Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

Gilbert realized his mistake when the words left his mouth, his gaze darting

uncomfortably. But he wasn’t used to backing down before Sherilyn. What was said was- said, like water spilled on the ground.

Gilbert stubbornly asked, “So, are you going to eat?”

Was he getting impatient? Sherilyn was impressed but didn’t want to cause trouble. So, she nodded, “Yeah, of course, I’ll eat.”

Gilbert’s lips curved slightly, his tone softening a bit. “What flavor do you want?”

Sherilyn answered, “Anything, I’m not picky.”

Not getting what she wanted, everything else felt the same, just something Gilbert imposed on her.

“Fine.” Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “I’ll go get it. Hold on.”

Sherilyn nodded and found a place to sit down.

After a while, Gilbert came over with a plate, this time not bothering to pack it up, bringing the plate over. “Eat it now.”

“Sure.” Sherilyn didn’t hold back, casually asking, “What’s the flavor?”

Gilbert said, “You said anything was fine, so I didn’t ask. I let them choose randomly.”

Fair enough.

Sherilyn picked up one with her fork, stuffing it into her mouth, then suddenly frowned. “What’s wrong?” Gilbert noticed. “Not good?”

“No…” Sherilyn forced a smile, “Just a bit hot. It burned my mouth a little.”

Oh. Gilbert didn’t ask further, taking one and biting into it, “Well… cinnamon pastry. It tastes pretty good.”

He then asked Sherilyn, “You like it?”

Sherilyn struggled to swallow what was in her mouth. “Yeah, love it…” Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

Love it? Not at all. Not only did she not like it, but she also despised it. She had known Gilbert for nearly ten years, and they had been eating at the same table for about five. Yet, he still had no idea that she hated cinnamon.

As it turned out, Gilbert didn’t pay any attention to the likes and dislikes of someone he didn’t care about. It wasn’t his fault. He had no obligation to pay attention to her.

So, even though it was hard to swallow, Sherilyn endured the discomfort and ate one.

10

Then, she put down her fork

“Why stop?” Gilbert looked at her, puzzled. “Full already?”

“Yeah.” Sherilyn grabbed a napkin, cleaning her mouth. “I’m full.”

“Are you kidding?” Gilbert’s eyes narrowed, his tone cold, “That’s all you’re eating?”

“Yeah.” Sherilyn nodded, “I’ve received your gift, thank you. I appreciate it.”

Appreciate it?

A flicker of irritation crossed Gilbert’s eyes. Was that her definition of appreciation?

“You don’t owe me anything now.” Saying so, Sherilyn picked up her bag. “I should be going.”

Suddenly remembering something, she added, “When are you free? Sylvia’s surgery is over, and we should get the divorce papers soon.”

“I’m busy!” Infuriated by her attitude, Gilbert glared at the uneaten pastries on the table. “That busy, huh? Can’t wait a bit?”

“No.” Sherilyn shook her head, not understanding why he was upset. She stood up. “Then I’ll be going. Enjoy your meal.”

Without waiting for Gilbert to respond, she left, bag in tow.

Gilbert sat there, frustration building up inside him.

What was she trying to say? Was she dissatisfied? She spent a few years abroad and didn’t learn much, but she sure became a pro at annoying others!

Sherilyn took a nap in the afternoon to prepare for her performance at Neon Nights Bar. She was supposed to perform a contemporary dance.

Colin had prepared a lavish costume for her, made of light, flowing chiffon. She started applying her makeup after changing.

Colin entered.

“Colin,” Sherilyn stood up hurriedly.

“Sit!” Colin waved her back down, smiling warmly, “You do your makeup and listen to me. That’s all.”