Chapter 476
Chapter 476:
Dominating the room was an imposing wooden table, its surface neatly adorned with rolls of fabric in various textures and colors. Along the walls, a selection of completed dresses hung gracefully, their designs exuding a quiet, timeless sophistication.
By the window, a sewing machine sat, its metal frame gleaming faintly. In front of it, a man hunched over, his hands moving with practiced precision as he worked.
Fernanda moved closer, her footsteps quiet against the worn floorboards. Crouching beside the machine, she called out gently, “Jalen?”
The man, Jalen Gibson, paused mid-motion. He turned his head slowly, blinking as he tried to make sense of the voice. His gaze lingered on Fernanda for a long moment.
At first, confusion clouded his weathered face. But then, recognition flickered in his eyes, quickly followed by a look of pure joy.
He dropped the scissors from his hands with a clink, reaching out to grasp Fernanda’s shoulders with unexpected warmth. “Is it really you… Fernanda?”
“Yes.” Fernanda confirmed with a quiet nod, her voice steady but filled with emotion. Her hands reached out to clasp Jalen’s thin hand, their touch a bridge between past and present. “It’s been so long. I’m here now—to keep the promise I made to you all those years ago.”
Upon Fernanda’s arrival, Jalen immediately ceased his task, stood briskly, and escorted her through a door into a charming, secluded courtyard.
This hidden enclave, a stark contrast to the neglected exteriors visible from the street, sprawled generously, its openness underscored by the immaculate condition of the place.
Grounded with slate-gray tiles that gleamed from constant care, the courtyard presented a serene escape. Encircling the courtyard were rooms situated according to the cardinal points. The southern rooms, which they had traversed from the street earlier, were now behind them.
Jalen resided in the northern room, using the west room for cooking and the east for storage. Dominating the heart of the courtyard was a grand plane tree, its branches casting cool shadows over the stone furnishings below—an ensemble of age-worn tables and chairs, near a timeworn well.
Bobby, experiencing this old-world charm for the first time, was utterly enchanted. The stifling discomfort that had gripped him in the previous, cramped room dissipated swiftly in this airy haven.
L𝓐tєѕτ chʜɑρτєrs ιn g𝒶l𝑛ovєl𝑠.ⲕоm
In warmer months, Jalen could have prepared coffee for them amidst the courtyard’s gentle breeze. However, the biting cold dictated a retreat indoors. Leading them to the room in the north, Jalen kindled a fire in the stove to boil water for tea.
As the warmth began to seep into the room, Fernanda, her eyes roaming curiously, ventured softly, “Jalen, could I possibly ask… where is Darrell?”
Jalen, turning towards her with a grave softness in his eyes, murmured, “He has passed away. It’s been four years now.”
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