Her Revenge Was His Regret (Shirley and Gilbert) novel Chapter 2

Sherry's eyes held a glimmer of hope, but also a hard, new resolve. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the blanket.

Lately, ever since she became "Mrs. Bode", she'd been getting too bold. He wouldn't put up with this kind of behavior.

Gilbert's brow furrowed. His voice was cold and flat. "Do what you want."

He didn't even pause to think.

Curled in Gilbert's arms, Wendy shot Sherry a smug smile, mocking her for overestimating herself to say such a thing.

Gilbert was the one who gave Wendy the power to mock her.

All the color drained from Sherry's face. She pressed a hand to her chest as hot tears spilled over.

She wiped them away and left the hospital alone.

Back at the house, everything was cold and dark. Gilbert was picky, so they'd never hired a nanny. Sherry had always done all the housework herself.

After a long, exhausting day at the hospital, her body ached. She was starving. But in the home that was supposed to be hers, there wasn't even a warm meal waiting.

She forced herself to cook through the hunger. She had just put the food on the table when Gilbert walked in.

He went straight to the dining room, looked at the meal, and scowled. His voice was like frost. "Sherry! You know Wendy likes broth. She hates chicken soup. You did this on purpose, didn't you?

"Wendy's upset because of you. She hasn't eaten all night. How can you sit here and eat? Go make something else for her. Now!"

The last thread of her patience snapped. "Why should I cook for Wendy? Am I her nanny? Or do you think I'm so worthless I should cook for your other woman?"

"Sherry! How dare you talk about Wendy like that! There's nothing between us, and you're still spreading rumors. Don't you know how much harm dirty rumors can do to a woman? Are you even human?"

Gilbert slammed his hand on the table and roared.

He directly knocked over the dinner she'd slaved over. Boiling hot soup splashed across the floor, scalding her leg. The pain was sharp and searing.

Gilbert didn't even glance back and walked out.

Right after that, he updated his Facebook—something he hadn't been willing to do in ten years.

A picture of Gilbert, wearing an apron, cooking.

She never knew he could cook.

His friends were shocked, flooding the comments.

"Wow, Gilbert, what a good man! Cooking for Sherry?"

Wendy replied, "It's for me!"

"Makes sense. He really spoils you!"

Sherry gripped her phone until her knuckles ached. She remembered once when she was sick, Gilbert had only brought her a plain bowl of oatmeal.

The difference between love and no love couldn't be clearer. And now she saw it.

But damn, it hurt.

Gilbert texted her, "Sherry, if you come over and apologize to Wendy, we can forget this. Otherwise, don't expect me home."

She hadn't done anything wrong. Why should she apologize?

Why would Gilbert never believe her?

Gilbert wasn't just the man she'd loved for five years—he was the one who'd pulled her out of her darkest time. She'd always been grateful.

Now she was just tired.

She didn't reply.

So Gilbert didn't come home at all.

Sherry sat awake through the night. When morning came, she started packing. She realized she had almost nothing that was truly hers. She'd given her whole heart to Gilbert. She hadn't even bought herself a nice dress.

It didn't take long to pack.

She was coming down the stairs when she ran into Gilbert's cousin, Cathy Bode.

"Well, well. Where's the stray dog off to now? Don't tell me you're moving into Gilbert's office to stalk him. You really have no shame."

Cathy's parents had died young, so she lived with the Bode family.

After Sherry and Gilbert married, they moved into their own place.

But every time Gilbert came back to his family home, Cathy would follow him back to their house. She always showed up whenever Sherry and Gilbert were getting close—then acted like it was an accident.

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