Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change? novel Chapter 1193

"Is it serious or not?"

Dr. Wilson shook his head, a gentle smile on his face. "Well, for now, your symptoms are pretty mild—just a bit of resistance. But you only started showing signs last night. It’s too soon to say how it’ll develop."

"So…"

Sherilyn hesitated a moment, then asked, "Could you write me a prescription anyway?"

"Of course."

Dr. Wilson nodded, scribbled the prescription, and handed it to her with a few words of warning. "Same as always—don’t take more than I’ve recommended."

He passed her the slip of paper.

"If things get worse, don’t just rely on the meds. Come see me right away, okay?"

"I will, thanks so much."

"Of course. That’s what I’m here for."

Sherilyn thanked him, took the prescription, and headed out to pick up her medication.

…

Back at Blue Haven.

It was early afternoon. Sherilyn took Jenna upstairs for a nap. She herself hadn’t slept well the night before, so she planned to rest, too.

Once Jenna was dozing, Sherilyn slipped out of bed, grabbed her purse, and pulled out the bottle of pills Dr. Wilson had prescribed.

She shook out a single tablet, just about to swallow it, when her phone buzzed.

It was a message from Gilbert.

*Had lunch yet? Remember, we’re meeting with that French designer today. I’m on my way back to pick you up, then we’ll go together.*

Oh, right.

Sherilyn blinked, checked her calendar, and realized Gilbert was right—it was today.

This designer was a big name in the industry. Just a couple of days ago, she’d been genuinely excited.

But now? Not at all.

A wedding dress? Getting married? Spending her life with him?

Sherilyn’s brows furrowed. The way things stood now, she just couldn’t bring herself to want any of it.

But if she tried to openly fight Gilbert—well, she’d tried that before, plenty of times. It never worked.

So, what could she do?

…

They drove to the bridal boutique.

Right on time, they were shown in to meet the designer.

Not just the designer, actually—his whole team was there, too.

"Ms. Gomez," the designer greeted her warmly. "Let’s talk about what you’re looking for. I’d love to hear your thoughts."

He continued, ticking off questions.

"Do you have any favorite styles or looks? Or anything you definitely don’t like—certain fabrics, colors, silhouettes?"

"Any elements you’re drawn to, or things you’d rather avoid?"

He smiled. "According to Mr. Harrison, we want to create a unique, one-of-a-kind wedding dress for you. So your preferences are absolutely essential."

Sherilyn frowned, silent for a long moment.

"Sherilyn?" Gilbert’s voice was tense, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Why wasn’t she saying anything?

Was she really thinking about calling off the wedding? About not having a dress—or a ceremony—at all?