Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?

The glow from Edgar’s phone lit up his face, showcasing his sudden burst of euphoria in the dimly lit room. Unable to hold back his excitement, he quickly typed a response.

[I’m free, so should I wait for you to finish up?]

Sherilyn replied almost instantly. [11 o’clock, meet me at the first intersection.]

Edgar was over the moon.

[Sounds good.] He replied.

Meanwhile, Gilbert finished his whiskey in one gulp and poured himself another. Yates glanced at him, saying. “Easy there, bro. What’s the rush?”

“I’m fine.” Gilbert looked down, his handsome features calm yet somber. “What’s next? Find another spot to continue?”

Surprisingly, he seemed in high spirits tonight. Yates and Derek were up for it.

“Sure.”

Derek grabbed his phone. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Alright.”

“Um…”

Edgar raised his hand, looking slightly embarrassed. “Guys, go ahead without me. I’m gonnal sit this one out.”

“Huh?” Yates looked puzzled at his cousin. “Why bail? You said you were free tonight.”

“… um,” Edgar stuttered, “got a last–minute date.”

Yates, knowing Edgar better than anyone there, slung an arm around his shoulder and whispered, “What kind of date? Don’t tell me it’s with a girl?”

Edgar stood up suddenly, looking nervous. “It’s getting late. I’ll catch you guys later.”

With that, he rushed out.

“Hey!” Yates pointed at his retreating figure, chuckling. “Look at him, all grown up.”

With a loud thud, Gilbert slammed his glass onto the table and stood up abruptly. Without a word, he headed for the door

“Hey! Where are you off to?”

“Home!”

“What?”

Yates and Derek were flabbergasted. What’s wrong with Gilbert?

09:27

Outside, Gilbert saw Sherilyn getting into Edgar’s car at the intersection. Edgar’s smirk made Gilbert seethe with anger. This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

“David, drive!”

“Alright.”

Gilbert leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to let it go. He couldn’t really intervene. If Sherilyn wanted to be with Edgar and had her grandmother’s blessing, what could he do?

But his mood was foul, exacerbated by the whiskey. Feeling suffocated, he took off his suit jacket, then yanked off his tie and tossed it aside. Even unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt didn’t help. He was still irritable.

Mr. Johnson was about to explode with frustration.

Sherilyn led the way, and they stopped at a bustling night market.

“Sorry, Mr. Ferguson, this might be your first time at a place like this. With my salary, this is all I can afford,” Sherilyn apologized.

“Why apologize?” Edgar chuckled, shaking his head. “I might have been abroad for my studies and never been here, but not all places overseas are high–end. There are street food

stalls too.”

Sherilyn laughed. “No way. They don’t have street stalls overseas, just foreign food.”

Edgar paused, then burst into laughter, “Haha… right, you got me there!”

“Then you’ll be fine.”

Her casual demeanor made Sherilyn relax a bit more, “The food here is definitely better than any foreign food. Let’s go.”

She led him to a burger stand, ordering two burgers. Wiping down the table with a napkin, Sherilyn assured, “These burgers are amazing. You’ll see.”