Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?
Chapter 319

On Wednesday evening, Sherilyn went to the Johnsons' residence. It was the only free night she had before her busy weekend schedule, filled with performances from Thursday through Sunday. "Sherilyn, come here," Sylvia Johnson called out, uncorking a bottle of red wine to celebrate Sherilyn's safe return from Crestwood.

"It's a miracle you came out of that unscathed. Must be your grandma watching over you from heaven," Sylvia said with a hint of relief.

"Yes," Sherilyn replied with a smile.

From the corner, Gilbert thought to himself: Grandma's blessings? Was she really Sherilyn's grandma?

He reached over to cover Sherilyn's wine glass. "Grandma, Sherilyn doesn't drink. Maybe we should skip the wine for her."

He vividly remembered how she was when she got drunk.

"A little won't hurt," Sylvia shot a glance at her grandson. "We're celebrating, after all. Plus, we're at home. It's not like getting a bit tipsy here is a problem, right, Sherilyn?"

Sherilyn lifted her glass, "Sylvia's right."

There it was, Gilbert meddling unnecessarily again.

Releasing his grip, Gilbert busied himself pouring wine for the ladies and serving dinner.

It was just the three of them at the dinner table tonight. Francis was at the hospital for a comprehensive check-up and was expected to stay there for a couple of days, with Caroline accompanying him.

Eventually, Sylvia couldn't hold her liquor and started to show signs of intoxication. Concerned about her well-being due to her frail health, Gilbert promptly called for the caregiver to assist Sylvia back to her

room.

Turning around, he caught Sherilyn cradling her wine glass, happily serving herself another drink.

Great, she was getting drunk too!

"Stop drinking," Gilbert approached, taking the glass from her hand. "You're drunk, do you realize? Grandma insisted you stay over tonight."

Her room was always ready, maintained daily by the housekeeper, requiring no special preparation.

"Oh, okay."

Expecting a refusal, Gilbert was surprised when Sherilyn nodded, clumsily trying to stand up, leaning heavily on the table for support.

Catching her before she could stumble, Gilbert teased, "Can Ms. Gomez even replace her way?"

"Mhm!" Sherilyn nodded, pointing towards the door. "There it is."

Gilbert scoffed, "That's south, you're quite the genius. Come on, I'll escort you to your room."

"Okay."

Sherilyn didn't resist, allowing him to guide her by the arm.

Once in her room, Sherilyn let go of him and went straight into the bathroom.

"Sherilyn?"

Gilbert was concerned for her well-being, worrying she might get sick. He hesitated momentarily before deciding to wait outside the bathroom door. After a while with no sign of Sherilyn, his worry turned into impatience. He knocked on the door, "Sherilyn, are you okay?"

No response came from inside; everything was silent.

"Sherilyn!" Gilbert's patience wore thin. He warned, "If you don't make a sound, I'm coming in!"

After a brief silence, he pushed the door open, only to replace Sherilyn sitting on the floor, leaning against the bathtub.

"Sherilyn?" He rushed over, kneeling in front of her. "What's wrong? Are you feeling alright?"

Sherilyn looked up at him, a mischievous smile on her face, "Hehe, hehe."

Even though she was smiling, Gilbert couldn't feel any joy in it, which made him frown.

"Are you sure you're not feeling unwell?"

"No," she continued to smile, shaking her head. "I'm just fine."

Really? Gilbert couldn't believe it. Her expression reminded him of the day she broke up with Edgar. Was she still hung up on Edgar? "Come on, let's get you off the cold floor."

As Gilbert reached to help her up, Sherilyn suddenly grabbed his arm, catching him off guard. "I've made up my mind. Let's be together."