<b>Chapter 49 </b>
Veronica’s eyes went wide with surprise. Her apartment building had two units per floor. The only person living next door was… Vernon.
Vernon Fletcher… Ashton Fletcher…
She snapped her gaze toward Ashton.
There was no way it was that much of a coincidence, right?
Ashton raised an eyebrow, his deep gray eyes seeming to see right through her. “It’s exactly that much of
a coincidence.”
With that, he stepped out of the elevator.
Veronica stared at his tall, broad back and suddenly remembered how Vernon had been going on about his second grandson, who was supposedly living like a monk.
So, it was him.
The figure in her mind slowly ovepped with the one in front of her.
Veronica would have never guessed it, but that’s how small the world was.
She steeled herself and walked out of the elevator.
Ashton leanedzily against the doorframe, his eyes locked on her. He was clearly not nning to go
inside.
“What’s wrong?” Veronica asked softly, not daring to look too far up.
Her mind was racing, trying to remember if she’d ever said anything stupid in front of this grandfather- grandson duo.
Ashton nced at the peri nt in her arms. “Weren’t you giving that to my grandpa?<b>” </b>
Veronica blinked nervously. “Y–Yeah. Right. I’ll leave it to you, then.”
She shoved the peri into his arms and turned to unlock her door, practically fleeing into her apartment.
Ashton stared <b>at </b>her closed door for a moment before letting out a quiet<b>, </b>amused breath through his
<b>nose</b><b>. </b>
Back inside, Veronica dropped her things. She flopped onto the couch<b>, </bpletely drained.
She was extremely humiliated<b>, </b>and her cheeks burned with dyed embarrassment.
The ns she had made for the evening were all postponed. She ended up throwing together a bowl of noodles for dinner<b>. </b>
At 9:00 pm, a message came through from Ashton. “I’m leaving. I left something for you at the door. Don’t forget to take it.”
Veronica blinked. She slid on her slippers and tiptoed to the door.
After peeking through the peephole to make sure no one was outside, she opened it.
At the doorstep sat a small, palm–sized box made of dark, polished wood.
She picked it up and opened the lid. Inside was a round jar of white cream.
A faint woody fragrance drifted up. It smelled… familiar. It smelled kind of like Ashton himself.
The thought startled her.
Just then, across the hall, a door creaked open.
Vernon stepped out, humming a tune, with a flower pot in his arms.
“Veronica! You’re home!” he greeted.
Veronica nodded. “Yeah.”
“My second grandson just left. Ugh! I should call him back,” he muttered, distressed.
Veronica’s scalp prickled. “No, wait! Vernon, I met him already!”
“You did?” He perked up. Then, his eyes fell on the jar in her hands, and it clicked. “Oh! So, you’re the
neighbour who gave me the peri!”
It was no wonder Ashton showed up out of the blue. He usually never came by unless he needed something. And he even took a jar of Vernon’s homemade scar cream!
Vernon chuckled to himself, convinced he’d pieced it all together.
<b>le </b>cleared his throat and asked, “Did that brat tell you how to use the scar cream? Ah, forget it. He
obably didn’t. Let me tell you.”
Veronica’s ears perked up. “Wait, this is… a scar cream?”
“That’s right. That brat begged me for <b>a </b>jar,” he emphasized every word, dropping a heavy hint. “Don’t worry, Veronica, I’ve got a medical license. This cream is safe. Trust me.”
Veronica knew that Vernon liked gardening and sometimes made his own herbal <b>incense </b>to give away. She hadn’t <b>realized </b>he was actually a licensed doctor.
“Thank you, Vernon. Let me pay you for it.”
<b>“</b>It’s fine. It’s just some homemade stuff. It’s <b>not </b>expensive!” He pretended to <b>get </b>mad at the idea of her
paying.
<b>In </b>the end, she gave in. She thanked him properly and headed back inside with the box <b>in </b>hand.
On her phone, a new message hade in from Ashton. It was sent five minutes ago.
“Twice a day, morning and night. Apply at the corners of your eyes. Massage gently for three minutes.”