Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change? novel Chapter 1181

"Sure thing," Sherilyn grinned, stepping forward with a brightness in her eyes.

"Really?" Gilbert cocked an eyebrow, not quite believing her.

"Really," she replied, her smile playful and teasing.

She reached up and gave his cheek a little pat, laughing softly. "There you go."

"That's it?" Gilbert tried not to laugh. He should've known she wouldn't kiss him in front of Jenna—such a tease.

He squeezed her hand anyway, not letting go. "Come on, let's eat."

Sherilyn gave his hand a half-hearted tug but didn't really try to break free. She just let him lead her toward the dining room.

"Hurry up—Jenna was just saying she’s starving," Sherilyn called over her shoulder.

"Well, we can't let our little princess go hungry, can we?" Gilbert said, voice full of mock concern.

"Is tonight the night for Mom’s famous roast chicken?" he added, grinning.

"You bet!"

The dining room table was already set, only missing the roast chicken.

"Hang on," Sherilyn said, smiling. "I'll go bring it in."

While she was gone, Gilbert sat with Jenna and pulled his phone from his pocket, placing it on the table—just in case his brother called. He flicked the screen open to check—no missed calls, no unread messages.

He couldn't help but wonder how things were going back at home.

Just as he put the phone down, Sherilyn reappeared, carrying a steaming dish.

"I'll get that," Gilbert said, jumping up to take the dish and set it in the middle of the table.

Sherilyn shot him a look. "What were you doing on your phone? Something up?"

Gilbert smiled, shaking his head. "Nah, just wrapped up some work stuff. All good now... let’s eat."

"Seriously?" Gilbert frowned. "That’s not normal. What did the doctor say?"

He couldn’t shake a gnawing sense of dread, like something was about to go seriously wrong.

"Nothing concrete yet," Francis said, voice heavy. "I’ll stay here tonight."

"Alright. Call me if anything happens, okay?"

"Will do."

Just as Gilbert hung up, Sherilyn emerged from the bathroom with a pile of pajamas, eyeing him suspiciously. "Who were you on the phone with?"

She couldn’t help but notice—he’d seemed distracted all night. Was she just being paranoid?

"My brother," Gilbert said, caught off guard. Seeing her doubt, he smiled and handed over his phone. "Really. See for yourself."

He unlocked the screen and pulled up his call history, holding it out to her.