Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

Sherilyn was clueless about the gravity of the situation until she coughed up the phlegm and swiftly looked up.

“Spit it out here!” The nurse held up a trash bin, extending it toward Sherilyn. Sherilyn hurriedly complied.

Mouth agape, panting, she asked, “Did it work?”

She could feel that she had coughed something up, but she couldn’t be sure it was helpful. “It worked!” Pointing at the monitor, the nurse joyfully announced, “The patient’s oxygen levels are rising!”

The doctor’s face relaxed. “Clearing that blockage was crucial. Let’s get ready to administer the medication.”

The nurse said, “Family members, please step outside for now.”

Sherilyn let out a sigh of relief and nodded. “Okay.”

As she was walking away, she felt someone tug at her hand. Confused, she looked down and saw it was Sylvia.

Barely able to catch her breath and not fully awake yet, Sylvia had her eyes slightly open.

But her consciousness was clear.

“Sylvia.” Sherilyn held her hand, gently patting it. “It’s fine. Everything’s okay now.”

Silence followed, but hot tears welled up and rolled down Sylvia’s cheeks.

Sherilyn’s eyes reddened instantly, understanding her meaning. “Sylvia, don’t cry. I’m your darling girl, Sherilyn.”

Finally, Sylvia slowly let go of her hand.

As Sherilyn turned away, she took a deep breath, realizing she was sweating profusely. Right. She needed to rinse her mouth. She raised her hand, about to pull the curtain aside. Then, an arm reached out, helping her with it. Sherilyn looked up to see it was Gilbert.

“Ahem.” Gilbert cleared his throat, his eyes flickering, “Wouldn’t you rather use the restroom? Let’s go.”

“Sure.” Sherilyn walked ahead, with Gilbert following closely.

She had acted impulsively earlier and was feeling a bit scared. When she walked into the restroom, she tripped.

“Careful!” Gilbert reached out, steadying her by the arm.

Startled, Sherilyn quickly straightened up and pulled away. “I’m good, thank you.”

Again, it happened.

Gilbert stared at her pale face, wondering if she was so resistant to his touch. Was he some monster or a carrier of disease? But right then, he couldn’t scold her because she had just saved his grandmother.

Suppressing his feelings of rejection, Gilbert grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and handed it to her, “Rinse your mouth.”

“Thanks.” Sherilyn thanked him, took the cup, and rinsed at the sink.

Observing the girl’s profile, Gilbert struggled for a little while before speaking up, don’t need to thank me. I should be the one thanking you. Sherilyn, thank you.”

“You

It was as if she had heard something unbelievable. Sherilyn looked up, puzzled. What did he say?

“I said thank you.” Gilbert repeated with a significant favor in mind, “Thank you for saving Grandma.”

Oh, that was it. Sherilyn finally caught on, smiling, “No need. I didn’t do it for you. A favor received should be repaid with kindness, especially since Sylvia has taken care of me for five years. It was the least I could do.”

It made sense.

But Gilbert picked up on a hint that she was setting boundaries between them. That was what he had wanted before. Yet, he felt inexplicably irked at that.

“Grandma is mine. Whether you care is your business, but thanking you is mine.” He raised his chin toward Sherilyn, “Tell me. What do you want? I’ll give it to you as a thank–you gift.”

Sherilyn refused it. “No need…”

“Hurry up!” Gilbert grew impatient. “I don’t like owing anyone. Just say it!” Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Sherilyn got the message. He was worried she might use it as an excuse to cling to him. He wanted to use the thank–you gift to set clear boundaries between them.