Chapter 90: Permission To Exist

The first few days passed in fragments, and Della rarely knew whether it was morning or night anymore.

She would wake only long enough to feel Annelise’s cool hand against her forehead or the rim of a clay cup resting against her lips before exhaustion swallowed her whole again.

Her body had simply given up.

The Awakening had demanded more from her than she could understand, and the rejection of the mate bond had carved wounds deep inside of her that no herbs could reach.

Sometimes she would wake gasping, one trembling hand clutching at the centre of her chest. The pain wasn’t as unbearable as it had been the day Malachi rejected her, or those two days she had spent locked inside that dark room, but it lingered like an old scar that refused to heal.

The pain always came in waves that were sharp enough to steal her breath before slowly fading into a dull ache.

Annelise never left her through those moments.

She would simply sit beside the bed, rubbing slow circles over Della’s back while murmuring soft reassurances until the pain eased again.

"Your body is trying to mend two injuries at once," She’d explain quietly while replacing another warm herbal compress over Della’s chest. "The Awakening nearly consumed every drop of your strength, and the mate bond..." She sighed. "It leaves wounds no healer can truly see."

Della never answered. She could only stare at the wooden ceiling until sleep reclaimed her.

By the fourth day, the fever had finally broken, and the heavy blankets no longer felt like fire against her skin.

She managed to sit up on her own, though only for a few minutes before dizziness forced her back against the pillows. Even lifting the clay cup of water made her arms tremble.

"You don’t have to prove anything," Annelise reminded her each time.

"I’m not trying to." She replied.

"Then stop looking guilty every time I help you."

Della lowered her eyes. Was she?

"I’m sorry." She murmured tightly.

Annelise stopped grinding the herbs altogether, "There."

Della blinked.

"You’ve done it again."

"What?"

"You apologised."

"I did?"

"You apologise every time I hand you food."

Della frowned faintly.

"And you apologise when I cover you with a blanket."

Another silence.

"And yesterday..." Annelise smiled sadly, "you apologised because you coughed."

Heat crept into Della’s cheeks. She hadn’t even realised she’d been doing it, "I..." she whispered, "...don’t know how to stop."

She didn’t because no one had ever treated her this way. No one had ever sat by her side and nursed her back to health, and no one had ever wasted their time feeding her, or cleaning after her, or making sure she was comfortable.

Annelise’s heart clenched when she saw the distant, sad look on Della’s face, then she sighed and told her straight up, "You don’t need permission to exist anymore."

Her hurts hurt Della just as much as they brought comfort to her heart, and Della slowly looked away, or else she might be compelled to say ’thank you’ or ’I’m sorry’ again.

As the days stretched into a week, colour slowly returned to her face. The bruises around her wrists faded from angry purple into pale yellow, and the cuts across the soles of her feet began knitting together.

She no longer slept through entire days too, but instead, she spent long hours sitting beside the little window wrapped in a woollen blanket, watching the village beyond.

Children chased one another through dusty streets, women laughed while hanging damp clothes beneath the afternoon sun, and an old man carved tiny wooden animals outside his doorway while two little girls argued over whose rabbit looked prettier.

No one even noticed her there.

They looked like the most carefree people she’d ever seen.

The first time a little boy wandered close enough to wave at her through the window, Della instinctively looked behind herself.

Surely, he couldn’t be waving at her.

When she realised he was, she hesitantly raised her fingers and waved back at him. The little boy grinned so widely that he almost dropped the loaf of bread tucked beneath his arm before running away again.

Della wanted to scream. She wanted to scream to the world that a little boy had smiled at her, and not hauled stone at her. But her throat was still a little sour.

Annelise glanced up from the herbs she was sorting when she noticed Della had frozen.

"What is it?" She asked.

Della looked at her, still puzzled, "He smiled at me,"

"Of course he did." Beatrice couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

"He... wasn’t afraid."

"No."

"He doesn’t know what I am."

Annelise looked at her for a long moment, "No," she said softly, "He only knows who you were in that moment."

Della was still astonished. Waving back at someone — a stranger for that matter was something she never knew could have this much impact on her. It was as if warm water was being poured down her chest, and the feeling was purely indescribable.

Tears prickled at the back of her eye.

Two more days, and Della’s appetite finally returned — with surprising force.

One bowl of stew became two, and she was finishing a loaf of bread and a fully roasted chicken in one sitting.

Annelise laughed every time Della looked embarrassed, "The baby is making demands already." She said.

Della instinctively rested a hand against her stomach.

Almost as though recognising her touch, the tiny flutter answered, and her lips curved before she realised she was smiling.

"I think..." Her voice trembled. "...I think the little one likes the stew...and chicken,"

Annelise laughed so hard she nearly dropped the wooden spoon, "I suppose we’d better keep making it then."

Della smiled back at her.

The next day, Annelise took her out on a brief walk. They moved between houses, and Della had no idea that Annelise was such an extrovert till every one that walked by literally stopped to talk and greet them.

Annelise introduced her to their neighbours, especially the one who’d been giving them chicken all this time. His name was Darren, and he was a small farmer in the town.

"You feeling better?!" He asked.

His accent was different from anything Della had ever heard. It sounded southern and quite musical.

"Yes, thank you so much for everything," She replied, lowering her eyes a little. She’d never had anyone stare at her the way he was doing, and she had no idea how to describe it or even...react.

"My pleasure," He tilted his head down a bit, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"See you later, Darren," Annelise chirped in, then pulled Della with her.

The woman now had a teasing grin on her face, then she began softly poking the side of Della’s stomach, "Looks like someone’s got a little crush on you,"

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@Cameron_Woodbury

@Keri_Smith

@Regina McGrath

Thank you so much for staying with me! It means more than you know!