If You Only Knew

Prolouge

"Harry, dear, get ready, please! We need to go pick up Louis from Jay's house!" Anne called up the staircase, her voice carrying a gentle urgency. The golden morning light poured through the kitchen window, glinting off the stack of unwashed dishes and catching the sparkle of dust motes drifting lazily in the air. In the playroom, toys lay strewn across the carpet like the aftermath of a grand adventure—miniature knights toppled over plastic castles, and a lone stuffed rabbit sat propped against a pillow, its stitched smile tilted mischievously.

"Otay, Mummy! I'm so excited for LouLou to stay here!" Harry's high-pitched squeal echoed down the hallway, followed by the rhythmic thud of tiny feet pounding against the wooden floor. Anne chuckled softly, her heart swelling as she turned to see her son racing toward her, his untamed curls bouncing wildly with each step. His eyes were wide with anticipation, a mirror of her own excitement, though tinged with the unfiltered joy only a four-year-old could summon.

"Hurry and put your shoes on, Haz!" she urged, glancing at the clock. A flutter of nerves danced in her chest—not from the rush, but from the bittersweet feeling that came with moments like these. Watching her son grow, watching him forge these connections that seemed so fleeting yet so profound—it was a reminder of how quickly time passed.

When they arrived at Jay's house, the warm autumn sun bathed the driveway in golden light. Harry bounced in his seat, craning his neck to see through the car window. The moment Anne parked, Harry flung the door open and clambered out, his small sneakers skidding on the gravel.

There, on the porch, stood Louis. His blond hair shimmered under the sunlight, his bright blue eyes wide and sparkling, like the clearest summer sky. He held a small overnight bag in one hand and a stuffed bear in the other, looking both excited and a little shy.

"LouLou!" Harry shouted, his voice a burst of uncontainable joy. Without hesitation, he let go of Anne's hand and bolted toward his friend, arms flailing as he ran.

"Hazzie!" Louis cried, his face breaking into a grin that could light up the world. He dropped his bag and stuffed bear to the ground as Harry launched himself forward, their arms tangling in a hug so fierce it nearly toppled them both over. It wasn't just a hug—it was an anchor, a tether binding them to the unwavering certainty of their friendship.

"I missed you!" Louis said, his words muffled against Harry's shoulder.

"I missed you more!" Harry replied, pulling back just enough to see Louis's face, his grin so wide it threatened to split his cheeks.

"Mummy said you're gonna sleepover tonight!" Harry exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Yeah!" Louis giggled, his voice bright and full of promise. "We can play games and eat snacks and stay up forever!"

Harry's hand found Louis's, their small fingers intertwining without a thought, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Anne watched from the car, her chest tight with the tender ache of love and pride.

The two boys stood in the sunlight, their laughter ringing out like the sweetest music. Their bond was unspoken but deeply felt, like the intertwining roots of two young trees growing side by side, destined to weather life's seasons together.

Meanwhile, Anne and Jay exchanged a knowing glance, their hearts swelling as they watched the boys with a mixture of joy and nostalgia. Time had a way of sneaking up on moments like these, magnifying their significance. "Okay, Boobear, come give Mum a hug and a kiss before you leave me for the night," Jay called softly, her voice thick with emotion. Tears glistened in her eyes, threatening to spill at the thought of her baby boy embarking on his first sleepover—a small step that felt monumental.