Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change? novel Chapter 1233

Gilbert stayed with Jenna the entire night.

Sherilyn didn’t disturb them. She quietly retreated to her own room, giving father and daughter their time alone.

It was nearly nine o’clock when a knock sounded at her door.

She didn’t need to ask who it was. Sherilyn stood, smoothed her clothes, and went to answer.

Outside, Gilbert stood tall and weary, his shirt rumpled from the long evening spent comforting Jenna. He managed a tired smile. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Sherilyn stepped aside, holding the door open for him. “Come in.”

“Thank you.”

He walked in, and Sherilyn closed the door behind him before following to the living room. She took her usual spot on the sofa, sitting across from him with the coffee table between them.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

It was strange—only a small table separated them, but it felt like an impossible distance, as if a whole galaxy lay between where they sat.

Gilbert watched her in silence, studying her face closely.

She was wearing makeup tonight, which was unusual for her at home. He couldn’t quite read her expression, but he could guess she wasn’t doing well.

She must have put on makeup to hide how exhausted she felt. Normally, Sherilyn never bothered with it when she was home.

He knew why: she hadn’t been sleeping, not really. The past days had been nothing but torment. How could anyone look well like that? Even he, after just a few sleepless nights, found his own reflection in the mirror hard to face.

“Sherilyn.” Gilbert finally broke the silence, inhaling deeply before saying her name.

“Yes?” Sherilyn responded immediately, almost as if she’d been waiting.

Their eyes met.

For a fleeting moment, there was an understanding between them—something wordless, shared.

She managed a small, wry smile. “You wanted to talk? Go ahead. I’m listening.”

Gilbert nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, the words thick in his throat.

His voice came out rough. “I… I know everything now.”

“I earned a decent wage at the diner. The manager was kind—he let me bring Jenna with me to work.”

Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but she smiled at the memory.

“Jenna was such an angel. All she did was eat and sleep, and when she was awake, I’d give her a little toy and she’d play quietly in her stroller. She never cried, never fussed… She must have known how hard things were for me, even as a baby.”

Gilbert listened, silent, his heart bleeding for her.

He thought, maybe that was just the bond between mother and daughter—Jenna understood, in her own way, how much her mother was struggling.

“That night…”

Sherilyn’s smile faded. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Those men… they hurt me.”

Gilbert knew the broad strokes of what had happened—his friend Joyce had told him what little she’d learned, mostly from news reports. No one knew the details.

But whatever had happened that night, it had been bad enough to leave Sherilyn with nightmares she couldn’t shake. Bad enough to haunt her even now.