Chapter 99: An Apple for Della

Annelise was not trustworthy at all.

Because how else would Della explain that she had specifically asked her to make sure she doesn’t run into Darren again, or let Darren into the cottage while she’s not around — and instead, Annelise had done something worse.

She had taken Della to Darren’s house instead, and asked Darren to look after her like she was some child that needed constant attention while she ran a small errand.

Della did not miss the stupid, cheeky wink Annelise had given her before she left the house in a hurry.

Which means, Della was now stuck with her neighbour. And she couldn’t just get up and leave because she had some morals in her and didn’t want to be rude.

And now, they were walking around his large garden behind his house, surrounded by a huge fence.

And Della never knew she was going to enjoy touring around his garden till it began, and now she couldn’t stop staring at everything in awe.

Darren kept a respectful distance as they walked, his hands tucked into the pockets of his worn trousers, "So..." he began, scratching the back of his neck. "Anne told me you like quiet places."

"She talks too much." Della said, shooting him a suspicious glance.

He laughed, the sound warm and unforced. "That she does."

Silence settled between them again, though unlike the silence she’d grown used to all her life, this one didn’t feel threatening.

It felt...comfortable.

Darren led her along a narrow stone path that wound between rows of vegetables she’d never seen planted with such care.

Tomatoes glowed like tiny rubies beneath the afternoon sun. Pumpkins sprawled lazily across the soil, and bundles of herbs hung drying beneath a wooden awning, filling the air with mint, rosemary and... something sweet. Cinnamon? "You grew all of this?" she asked quietly.

"Mhm."

"By yourself?"

"My father helped before he passed." He smiled faintly. "Now it’s just me."

Della looked around again. Everything had it’s own place where it thrived, and not a single plant looked neglected.

Her eyes landed on several wooden boxes buzzing softly.

She stopped, fear flashing in her eyes.

Bees.

It had her recalling an incident while she was young. Some teenagers had knowingly knocked down a beehive right above the tree she had been dozing off underneath, and they had almost stung her to death.

She had miraculously survived.

Della instinctively took two hurried steps backwards, staring at the box intensely like she could light it up on fire with her gaze.

Darren couldn’t help laughing, "They won’t hurt you."

"How do you know?"

"Because they’re busy."

She looked at him as though he’d just said the sky was green, then she eyed the wooden boxes suspiciously again, "I don’t trust them."

"They can probably sense that."

"They can?" Her eyes widened.

"No."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You lied."

"I did."

His smile grew a little, and it almost prompted her to smile. Instead, the corner of her lips twitched slightly, and he noticed it since he was always staring at her face.

A small victory.

He decided not to ruin it.

Instead, he continued walking, slowing his pace enough for her to catch up, "This way."

She followed closely.

Beyond the herb garden lay a small orchard. Apple trees stretched across the field, their branches heavy with fruit.

Pears.

Peaches.

Even oranges.

Della slowed to a stop beneath one of the apple trees, "So many..." She murmured.

"Go on."

"What?" She blinked.

"Pick one."

She looked at him in confusion, "I...don’t have any money."

Darren stared, blinked, then he suddenly burst into laughter. He laughed so hard that he had to bend over, one hand braced against his knee.

"Did I say something strange?"

"No." He tried—and failed—to stop laughing. "It’s just..." He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, "I own the orchard."

"Oh!"

"You don’t have to buy my apples."

"Right." Her cheeks flushed.

"So..."

"I may have embarrassed myself." She admitted.

"A little."

More heat crept into Della’s cheeks, "I’m sorry."

"There it is again."

She looked up, realising what she’d done. Then, she folded her lips inward and gave him a tight smile that never reached her eyes.

Something flickered across Darren’s face.

Sadness.

Not pity.

Just...sadness.

He reached up, plucked a bright red apple from the nearest branch, polished it against his shirt and held it out to her, "For you."

She looked at him like he was suddenly speaking the language of aliens, "Huh?"

"For you," He repeated.

The way she kept staring at him in complete disbelief, and all her other behaviours had him thinking about a lot of things, and one of those things slipped out of his tongue before she could control it, "Have you never been given something before?"

She tried to say no.

Because she didn’t want to look odd.

But he already saw the truth in her eyes.

The smile slowly faded from Darren’s face, and he looked at the apple in his hand for a long moment before quietly taking another one from the tree.

He tossed it into the air once before taking a large bite, the crisp crunch echoing through the orchard, "Mmm." He nodded dramatically, "Terrible."

Della stared.

"I should probably throw the rest away." He remarked, reaching towards another apple, "And this one." He crunched too, "Also terrible."

Another bite.

"Horrible."

Despite herself, Della let out the tiniest snort. It escaped before she could stop it, making Darren freeze, "Was that..."

Della immediately covered her mouth, "I didn’t—"

"You laughed."

"I didn’t."

"You absolutely did."

"I made a noise."

"A laugh-shaped noise."

"It wasn’t a laugh."

"It sounded nice." He smiled.

Della lowered her eyes, suddenly feeling strangely shy. No one had ever tried this hard...just to make her smile. And for reasons she couldn’t explain, that frightened her far more than the bees ever could.

"Della," Darren said after a few seconds had passed.

"Hm?" She looked up at him.

"I’m curious about something,"

"What is it?"

He plucked another apple and then extended it to her quietly. She again stared between him and the apple like what he was doing was foreign to her.

Then, finally, she reached in and gently took it from him.

"I’m curious to learn about how and where you grew up,"

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