Ruin me, Stepbrother
The basket was getting heavy, filled with the apples we'd selected carefully, when Miles suddenly grabbed my hand.
"Come here. I want to show you something."
He led me off the main path, down a narrower trail between two rows of trees, and then we emerged into a small clearing I hadn't noticed before. In the center was a massive oak tree, probably a hundred years old, its branches spreading wide enough to create a canopy overhead. There was a simple bench built under it with its floor stem.