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Ashton teased, “Standing there taking a beating without fighting back? People who don’t know better might think you have some unusual kink.”
Veronica bit her lip, and her nose suddenly stung. She hadn’t felt like crying when Regina slapped her, and not even when Heath sided with Regina or left her standing there to chase after Eleanor.
However, Ashton’s words somehow struck a chord deep within her chest, and it made her heart ache. He probably thought she was just a walking burden.
She sniffled and turned her head away, her eyes burning with heat. Well, he wasn’t wrong. Every time they met, she’d brought nothing but trouble.
She mumbled, “I’m sorry, Mr. Fletcher. I’ve caused you enough trouble.”
Ashton saw her gradually reddening eyes and silently scolded himself.
What was he saying those things for? In that situation, how could she have had any choice in the matter?
Off to the side, William was nearly breaking into a sweat. He thought, “Come on, Mr. Fletcher! If you don’t
make a move now, when will you? Comfort her! Say something!”
Ashton gathered his emotions, even straightening his posture. After a long moment, he finally spoke
stiffly, “That’s it?”
William was dumbfounded. Well, there went Ashton’s chance of winning Veronica over.
Ashton looked at him, and William got the hint, quickly saying, “I’ll go grab some ointment for Ms. Dolton.”
Just as Veroinca was about to refuse, Ashton turned and pushed open the hospital room door, which had
been left slightly ajar.
His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, and he let out a scoff.
So, it wasn’t locked. She just had too much respect for boundaries to go in without permission.
“The charity food drive is over. Are you coming in now?” he asked.
Veronica was caught off guard. She couldn’t help but wonder if Ashton just called Heath a beggar. The bizarre image popped into her mind, and for a second, she nearly laughed.
After pulling herself together, she picked up the soup and entered the hospital room. Just like last time, she set everything neatly on the coffee table.
Ashton didn’t say a word. He just sat on the couch and watched her in silence. However, the quiet felt
awkward, and Veronica shifted uncomfortably.
Soon, William returned with a tube of bruise ointment. Ashton rolled his wrist slowly while watching her apply it. She glanced at his unwrapped hand and asked gently, “Is the injury healing?”
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“It’s ruined for life,” he replied.
Veronica’s eyes flew open in alarm. Before she could ask, he added, “Well, maybe not that bad.”
“Oh… I see.” She gave him an awkward smile.
Who knew he had a sense of dry humor?
Then, he said, “It scarred.”
Veronica tried to maintain a light tone. “It can’t be that bad, right?”
Ashton chuckled softly, his usually cold eyes showing rare warmth. Veronica’s heart, which had just settled, rose again with the man’s words. “Not really… It did leave a scar.”
He looked down, and his thick, long lashes lowered, casting shadows under his eyes. Then, he opened his palm. His hand was large, with long fingers, well–defined knuckles, and neatly trimmed fingertips.
What should have been the pampered hand of privilege actually had quite a few calluses on the palm. A dark brown scar was particularly visible along the dividing line of his thumb joint, running almost across his entire palm.
Veronica was stunned. When he’d caught the knife that day, he hadn’t shown the slightest sign of pain. This injury was far more serious than she’d imagined.
Her eyes immediately reddened, her voice trembling with guilt as she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” When he saw this, Ashton’s Adam’s apple moved slightly. “Don’t cry. It doesn’t even hurt.”
Chapter 25
