Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?



The door to the room opened silently, a testament to the care with which Gilbert entered. His eyes immediately found Jenna, who, despite being half- asleep, managed to muster a greeting for him.

"Mr. Gilbert."

"Hey there, kiddo."

Glancing at Sherilyn, he subtly nodded towards the door, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll stay with Jenna, get her back to sleep... Why don't you head down to the dining room?"

"Why?" Sherilyn asked, puzzled.

"Just go, you'll see," he urged without offering further explanation. Gently pulling her to her feet, he then lay down beside Jenna.

Waving her off, he added, "Go on, then."

Feeling a mix of curiosity and reluctance due to not wanting to disturb Jenna's descent into slumber, Sherilyn left the room without further questions and made her way downstairs.

As she neared the dining room, a delightful aroma wafted towards her, igniting a hunger she hadn't realized was there. Her stomach betrayed her with a loud grumble just as she was spotted by a smiling staff member at the dining table.

"Good evening, Ms. Gomez," the staff member greeted her warmly.

"Hello," Sherilyn replied with a smile, returning the greeting. "You're from the South Building, right?"

On her first day at the South Building, Gilbert had introduced her to all the staff members to help her recognize faces and prevent any of the Harrison family's spies from sneaking in unnoticed. This particular staff member, however, seemed unfamiliar.

"No, actually."

With a chuckle, the staff member clarified, "I'm one of the chefs from the main house. Mr. Gilbert asked me to prepare a special dish for you. It's all ready."

Pointing to the table, he continued, "Please, have a seat, Ms. Gomez."novelbin

"Thank you," Sherilyn said, taking the offered seat.

The staff member then unveiled the dish. "This was prepared according to Mr. Gilbert's instructions. Enjoy."

"Thanks."

After the staff member left, Sherilyn eyed the silverware beside her plate, pondering why Gilbert had arranged for this surprise. It must have been Candida's doing, she thought, or possibly Naomi's, now that Naomi was acting as Charles's little 'informant.'

Hesitant, Sherilyn debated whether to indulge. She was hungry, but eating at this hour? Yet, there it was a beautifully prepared fish dish.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Gilbert:

et

[The sea bass is steamed, no oil added, just a touch of the spicy and sour sauce you like. Go ahead, it's all protein, won't make you gaina pound.]

He added:

[You're already slim enough. Any thinner and it could affect your health.]

His tone...

Sherilyn couldn't help but chuckle, murmuring, "Such a fusspot, like my grandma."

Then she paused, struck by her own comparison. Was she really likening Gilbert to her grandmother?

Habits, she realized, were indeed formidable-easing one into comfort and complacency.

Yet, here she was, confined to the

comfort Gilbert provided, their relationship stuck in a peculiar loop, making her feel both trapped and unwilling to settle for mere contentment.

Sighing, Sherilyn looked down at the fish before her, picked up her fork, and poked at it, giving in to the moment.