And What If I Were You

Chapter 2 - Part 28

Friday, March 18, 2022

Harry's Country House

Buxton, Derbyshire

6.30pm. Arriving home, but home isn't where he left it...

Harry pulls up in the courtyard and cuts the engine, letting out a long sigh as he stretches his neck from side to side. He's tired after his long drive up from London and he can't wait to pour himself a glass of wine and relax by the fire for the rest of the evening. He's hungry too after driving straight through without a stop and he hopes Louis has organised pizza as they do most Friday evenings. He grabs his phone and sees that Louis still hasn't responded to the voice note he sent earlier which is odd, but maybe he just didn't hear the alert.

He hauls himself out of the car and grabs his bag from the back seat, before heading to the front door. He frowns when he realises that the house is dark aside the exterior sensor lights which have come on automatically.

A spark of panic shoots down his spine and he opens the door quickly.

"Lou?" He calls out into the quiet hallway, the only response coming from Giselle with a soft meow. "Louis? Where are you?"

Nothing.

He flicks on the lights as he strides through the house to the kitchen at the back, but there's still no sign of Louis anywhere. Giselle is sitting up on the back of the couch, eyeing him with a dismissive gaze as per usual. Harry goes to her and scratches under her chin, which placates her somewhat.

"Where's Lou?" He asks her, but she just presses her face into his palm.

Harry dumps his bag on the couch and digs his phone out of his pocket to call Louis, but then he turns and that's when he sees it.

In the middle of the kitchen is an easel and he does a double take. His first reaction is one of happiness that maybe Louis has finally decided to get back to his art, but that reaction is short lived as Harry moves towards it and he sees what it is. It's the unfinished piece Louis had been working on before he lost his sight and he's sure it's exactly the same, not a single brush stroke having been added.

His eyes travel down the painting, the lines and colours so familiar now that he could easily conjure them in his mind without prompting. It's of the two of them when they were vacationing in Spain last year, on the balcony of their villa with the sun setting in the background. It isn't a direct representation of the moment, but then Louis' paintings never are, and although it's unfinished, he's captured the feeling and emotion of the moment perfectly.

When his gaze reaches the shelf of the easel he notices an envelope sitting propped up and he reaches for it. It has Harry's name written on the outside in Louis' scrawl. The lettering is even more messy than it used to be, and he's a little surprised as Louis doesn't handwrite things anymore since he can see what he's writing.

Harry opens the envelope and takes out the folded piece of paper, but there's something else inside, and he slides his fingers in, brows furrowing when he pulls out a ring.

Louis' wedding ring.

Harry stands there, frozen on the spot, the blood draining from his face.

He stumbles back like he's been punched in the gut and leans against the kitchen bench as he takes a deep breath and unfolds the paper. It's a single sheet of printed text and a lump instantly forms in his throat as he starts to scan the words.

~~~~

Dear Harry,

I'm not much of a wordsmith, as you know, but the thought of having to do this in person was too painful to even contemplate, so I've taken the coward's way out. I'm not proud of my actions, but I hope you will see that it's the right thing for both of us.

I've left you my final piece, the unfinished artwork of us in our happiest of times before the ground gave out beneath my feet and I tumbled into the darkness. In a way, it feels like a metaphor for our relationship - ended before reaching its full potential, but still beautiful as a moment frozen in time, as a representation of what could have been if the cruel hand of fate had not intervened and stolen our future from us.

We had so many plans, so many good times ahead of us, hopes for a family and a full life together, but they've been ripped away now and I simply can't continue like this, feeling like a failure and a burden. No matter how hard I try, I can't be what you need or what you deserve. I'm holding you back, and I love you too much to do that anymore.

I hope you can understand and respect my decision to leave and please know that I've done this from a place of love, not anger or hatred. You are the most wonderful man I've ever known and I wish you nothing but success and happiness. I'm devastated that I won't be there to share the future with you, but I'm reassured by your strength and your character, and know that you will flourish now that you don't have me dragging you down.

Even though I know you'll have questions and want answers, I ask that you let me go to find my own pathway without you, as hard as that might be. Please don't look for me, and don't worry about me, I'll be fine.

As they say, if you love something, then set it free, and that's what I'm doing - setting you free from a life half-lived with someone who can't be a true partner to you.

So while this is goodbye, just know that from the bottom of my heart, I'll love you forever.

Louis

~~~~

Harry can't breathe. It's as though all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Tears blur his vision as he finally manages to suck in a lungful of air. His knees give way and he collapses to the floor. 

It can't be true, it just can't. Louis would never leave him. They love each other more than anything.

He reads and re-reads the letter, skimming over the sentences until he can no longer recognise the words and phrases, gasping for breaths, hands shaking and heart rabbiting in his chest as beads of sweat gather and drip down his spine.

Harry wipes his tear-stained cheeks and looks up at the painting. The sketched outlines of him and Louis are like shadows on the canvas with the vibrant backdrop of the Spanish sunset behind them. The tears well up in his eyes once more and he hiccups out a breath as he glances down at Louis' wedding ring in his open palm.

He's gone. Louis is really gone and Harry is completely and utterly alone.