Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change? novel Chapter 62

Chapter 62 

Sherilyn filled the kettle, rolled her sleeves, and gently washed and changed Sylvia into clean clothes with patience and care. 

Yates and Gilbert sat facing each other. 

Yates gestured toward the interior. “She’s changed, hasn’t she?” 

“Changed?” Gilbert seemed annoyed. “You’ve only seen her a few times, and you think your can tell she’s changed?” 

“Come on.” Yates squinted, “For some things, you don’t need to see many times to understand. Her whole demeanor, the look in her eyes, it’s all different now.” 

His tone sounded almost admiring. 

It only irritated Gilbert further, who retorted and smirked, “People don’t change their spots. that easily. It’s all an act!” 

“An act?” Yates raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “She puts on an act for you, but does she need to do that with me? You know…” 

Yates seemed to see through Gilbert. “I know you don’t like her. But haven’t you two signed the divorce papers?” 

He then gestured toward the interior again. “Considering what Sherilyn’s done for Sylvia, cut her some slack and treat her like family, at least.” 

“All this talk?” Gilbert snorted, “You came to see Grandma and haven’t helped out at all. Have your food. Off you go!” 

“I will not.” Yates bantered back, “I promised I’d leave this for Sherilyn…” 

“Enough!” Gilbert laughed and scolded, “My family, isn’t she? Since when is it your place to care? Get moving!” 

“Fine then.” Yates didn’t argue further and quickly finished his breakfast. “I’ll be heading. out soon.” 

Sure Gilbert nodded, “I’ll be a bit later.” 

They had a business project and planned to leave together after Yates visited Sylvia. But plans changed, and Gilbert had to wait. 

After Yates left, Sherilyn came out after she cleaned Sylvia and changed her into fresh clothes. She was holding the soiled clothing. 

The caregiver hurried over to take them. “I’ll wash these.” 

“Okay, thanks.” Sherilyn nodded, letting go. 

Gilbert watched her, his tone unconsciously softer, “Go wash your hands.” 

“Oh.” Sherilyn did as told, knowing she indeed needed to wash. When she returned, Gilbert. gestured toward a chair across from him. “Take a seat.” 

Sherilyn was puzzled. “Is there something you need?” 

If it wasn’t anything serious, she had to go–there was a rehearsal waiting for her. 

“Just sit.” Gilbert frowned, not the patient type. “What? Is the chair all in nails? Can’t sit?”