Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change? novel Chapter 1250

“I want to smell!”

Before her brother could react, Joyce had already leaned in, scrunching up her nose. “Wow, that’s strong! You reek of smoke.”

She quickly explained, “Sherilyn’s sensitive to cigarette smoke. She really can’t stand the smell.”

That, by the way, was why she’d never allowed Gilbert to smoke in the house.

Nanson looked embarrassed, glancing apologetically at Sherilyn. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… Are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor or anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Sherilyn smiled and shook her head; she’d already recovered.

“Don’t listen to Joyce exaggerate. I am a bit sensitive, but it’s not that bad—I’m alright now.”

Seeing she’d stopped coughing, Nanson finally relaxed. “Sorry again. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

When they left the lounge, Nanson offered to give Sherilyn a ride.

“That’s alright,” she replied with a warm smile. “My friend’s waiting for me in the car.”

She meant Candida.

“Alright then,” Nanson didn’t insist. “Let Joyce know when you get home, okay?”

“Will do. Bye, Nanson. Bye, Joyce.”

“Bye!” Joyce waved.

Sherilyn turned and headed across the street.

“Hey, listen,” Joyce said, looping her arm through Nanson’s as they waited for the valet to bring the car around. “Look out for Sherilyn when you can, okay? She’s got it tough, raising her daughter on her own. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“Don’t worry.”

Nanson nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “So… her engagement to Mr. Harrison, it’s really off?”

Hadn’t that been the talk of the town lately? Everyone in their social circle knew—the Harrison family’s new heir was supposed to reunite with his ex-wife, his first love.

“As real as it gets.”

Joyce nodded, sighing. “Mr. Harrison… I don’t even know what to say about him. He does care about Sherilyn, I don’t doubt that, but he’s got way too much baggage. Anyway, I’m with Sherilyn—she should do whatever makes her happy.”

Life’s too short—barely thirty thousand days. You have to live the way you want.

“Marriage, breakups… none of that’s the point. Happiness is.”

Candida drove off, and Sherilyn turned to walk inside.

But—almost without thinking—she suddenly spun around and ran back to the front gate, pulling it open in a rush.

The street outside was empty. No people, no cars. Nothing.

She frowned, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. What was she thinking? Why did she have the feeling someone was following her?

Shaking her head, she closed the gate and headed back in.

Just around the corner, two blocks away, Gilbert sat in the backseat of his car, heart pounding in his chest.

That was close—so close! Sherilyn had nearly caught him.

He knew how pathetic he looked, sneaking over here again and again, lurking like some obsessed voyeur.

But what could he do?

Longing for her was like wild grass growing out of control inside him—he couldn’t cut it down, couldn’t burn it away.

His temples throbbed. Gilbert gritted his teeth, grunted softly, and fished a pill bottle out of his pocket. He shook one out, tossed it into his mouth, and swallowed dry.

Then he slumped back in the seat, closed his eyes, and waited for the pain to pass.