Chapter <b>81 </b>


    Veronica blinked in surprise. She started to ask, <b>“</b>Did you not…”


    Mid–sentence, a realization hit her. Ashton never went back to the office.


    She inwardly cursed. The chicken soup was long gone. Not even a drop was left.


    Seeing her falter, Ashton arched a brow. “I waited for your soup, you know. In the meantime, I had the pleasure of sampling Grandpa’stest culinary invention. Didn’t you-


    ??


    “Ah?” Veronica quickly feigned ignorance and cut him off, attempting to dodge the awkward topic. Then, like an idiot, she asked, “What dish was it?”


    Ashton’s smile turned frosty. “Pork chops with mango salsa.”


    Noticing her hesitant expression, he had a sinking feeling that the soup that night would end up just as cold as his heart.


    Veronica gave a sheepish smile and tried to find a way to cover up her blunder. She cleared her throat before saying, “Vernon really is quite the innovator…”


    No wonder Ashton’s face looked like he had been poisoned when she opened the door earlier. That was the reason. She wondered if that dish was even safe to consume.


    She pictured Ashton sitting at a table full of strange dishes, wearing that same expression. Despite herself, she found it a little funny, though it was not very kind to do so. She tried her best not tough and urged herself to make amends.


    “Uncle Ashton, what brings you here?” Wanda came running in from the living room, asking


    the obvious.


    Ashton looked at her and retorted, “What do you think?”


    Her eyes darted around yfully as she said, “Oh no, you didn’t go to the office? I thought you were super busy today. We finished the soup ages ago. I even washed the pot myself!”


    That tone of hers could drive anyone up the wall. As expected, Ashton’s face darkened like the bottom of a burnt pan. He couldn’t believe her audacity.


    Veronica noticed the deepening gloom in his eyes and quickly mped a hand over Wanda’s mouth before thetter could worsen things any further.


    “I’m so sorry, Mr. Fletcher. I thought you had gone to the office, so I didn’t leave anything for you,” she said, bracing herself.


    “It’s fine. A feast from Grandpa once in a while wouldn’t kill me. My stomach troubles should stay put for now.”


    Ashton gave her a faint smile, though storm clouds churned in his pale gray eyes.


    “It’s kind <b>of </b>you to exin, though I wasn’t here for just a bowl <b>of </b>soup. I was simply reminded of our time at the hospital. I missed your cooking.”


    Wanda’s eyes widened in disbelief. Her picky uncle, who never missed a meal, was talking as if no one had ever fed him.


    And when did he start having stomach troubles? Even if he did, was Vernon not more than capable of curing it?


    Her brain whirred as she arrived at a bold conclusion. Ashton was lying!


    Unfortunately, Veronica still had her hand over Wanda’s mouth to keep her from blurting anything out. Thus, she couldn’t get a single word out.


    Veronica didn’t notice the change in the girl’s expression. Ashton’s nonchntment only deepened her guilt.


    He had saved her life, after all. So, how could she act so distant out of fear of gossip, despite what he had done for her? There had to be a better way to handle this.


    She remembered her visit to the hospital. Ashton had beenpletely alone. He had no family <b>or </b>friends–no one to visit him.


    And now, with that disaster of a meal from Vernon…


    Veronica felt a tight knot forming in her chest. She couldn’t believe what she had done.


    “I’m sorry, Mr. Fletcher. My cooking is nothing special, but if you don’t mind, I’d be happy to prepare dinner for you personally tomorrow. If you’re busy, your assistant cane by and pick it up.”


    “Thank you, Ms. Dolton.” Ashton pretended to hesitate, but gave a slight nod in the end. With one smooth motion, he plucked Wanda right out of Veronica’s arm.