A Love In The Small Town

Sixteen

The decision to go back had been made, but that didn't make the reality of it any easier. Louis was quiet in the days leading up to their trip to his hometown. Harry noticed the subtle ways Louis' tension resurfaced—his sleepless nights, the way he worked longer hours at the shop, as if keeping busy might drown out the thoughts racing through his head.

Harry didn't push him to talk, sensing that Louis needed time to sort through his feelings. But he made sure to be there, offering quiet reassurances—a hand on Louis' shoulder, a kiss on his temple before bed, a promise spoken in soft tones that they'd get through this together.

The day they left for Doncaster, the air was crisp and cool, the early signs of winter creeping in. They packed lightly, just enough for a few days, though neither of them really knew how long they'd stay. The drive would be long, and Harry was acutely aware of the unspoken weight that sat between them as they climbed into the car.

As they drove through the winding roads out of Cloverbrook, the silence in the car wasn't uncomfortable, but it was heavy. Louis stared out the window, lost in thought, while Harry kept his eyes on the road, his fingers drumming softly on the steering wheel in time with the music playing softly on the radio.

After a couple of hours, Louis finally spoke, his voice quiet. "I haven't been back in years."

Harry glanced at him, seeing the tension in Louis' jaw. "Do you think it'll feel strange being there again?"

Louis let out a small, humorless laugh. "Probably. A lot of memories tied to that place—some good, some not so much."

Harry nodded, keeping his tone gentle. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for. If it gets too much, we'll leave. No questions asked."

Louis gave him a small, grateful smile. "I appreciate that. But I think I need to do this. Even if it's hard."

They drove in silence for a little longer, the countryside blurring past them. Eventually, Louis began to open up more, as if the distance between him and his father's house was giving him the clarity he needed to talk.

"You know, when I left, it wasn't just about my dad," Louis said, his voice low, reflective. "It was about everything—feeling trapped, feeling like I didn't belong there anymore. My whole life, I was expected to do certain things, be a certain way. And when I didn't fit into that mold... well, things got tense."

Harry nodded, listening carefully. He had heard bits and pieces of this before, but Louis had never spoken so openly about the reasons he had left Doncaster.

"I tried for a long time to be what he wanted," Louis continued, his hands fidgeting in his lap. "But it never felt right. And the more I tried, the more I felt like I was losing myself. So one day, I just... left. No explanations, no goodbyes. I didn't even know if I was coming back."

"Do you regret it?" Harry asked softly, glancing at Louis.

Louis was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Sometimes. I regret not explaining things better. I regret not trying harder to fix things before they got so bad. But at the same time, I needed to leave. If I hadn't, I don't think I would've ever found myself. Or found you."

Harry's heart swelled at Louis' words, and he reached over, squeezing Louis' hand gently. "I'm glad you found me," Harry said, his voice soft but full of meaning. "I'm really glad you did."

Louis gave him a small, grateful smile before turning his attention back to the road ahead.

The hours passed slowly, the scenery changing from rolling hills to the familiar landscape of northern England. When they finally pulled into Doncaster, the weight of where they were going settled more heavily on Harry's chest. He could only imagine what it felt like for Louis.

They didn't go straight to Louis' father's house. Instead, they checked into a small hotel on the outskirts of town, giving themselves a moment to breathe, to collect their thoughts before the inevitable confrontation. Louis was jittery, pacing the room as he debated whether to call or just show up unannounced.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, watching him with concern. "Take your time," he said gently. "There's no rush."

Louis sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to say to him. I've thought about this moment a thousand times, and now that I'm here... I have no idea where to start."

Harry stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of Louis. "You don't have to have all the answers right now. Just be honest with him. Tell him what you're feeling, what you've been carrying. That's enough."

Louis looked at him, the vulnerability in his eyes so raw that it made Harry's heart ache. "What if it doesn't change anything? What if he still hates me?"

Harry shook his head, cupping Louis' face gently in his hands. "Then that's on him, not you. You can't control how he reacts. All you can do is show up and be true to yourself. And no matter what happens, I'll be right here with you."

Louis closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into Harry's touch. When he opened them again, there was a new determination there, a quiet strength that made Harry feel proud of him.

"I'll call him," Louis said, his voice steady now. "I'll call and see if he's willing to meet."

Harry nodded, stepping back to give Louis space. He watched as Louis picked up his phone, dialing the number he hadn't called in years. The silence that followed felt deafening as Louis waited for his father to pick up.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Louis spoke. "Dad? It's me."

Harry could hear the low murmur of a response on the other end, but he couldn't make out the words. He watched as Louis' face shifted from tension to something more guarded.

"I'm in town," Louis said after a pause. "I was hoping we could talk. Face to face."

There was another long silence, and Harry could feel his own heart pounding in his chest, waiting for Louis' father's reply.

Finally, Louis nodded, his voice quiet. "Okay. I'll come by tomorrow."

When Louis hung up the phone, he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with relief. "He said he'd see me. Tomorrow."

Harry smiled, wrapping his arms around Louis in a tight hug. "That's a good start."

Louis nodded against Harry's shoulder, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah. I guess it is."

They spent the rest of the evening in quiet conversation, the tension slowly easing between them as they prepared for what tomorrow would bring. Louis was still nervous, but Harry could see the quiet resolve in him, the strength it had taken to make that call.

As they lay in bed that night, wrapped up in each other, Harry whispered softly into the darkness, "You're doing the right thing, Lou."

Louis turned to look at him, his expression tender. "I hope so."

Harry kissed him gently, his lips brushing against Louis' in a soft promise. "No matter what happens, we'll get through this. Together."

Louis smiled, his hand reaching for Harry's under the covers. "Together."

And as they drifted off to sleep, Harry knew that no matter what tomorrow brought, they would face it side by side—because that was the kind of love they had built, the kind that could weather any storm.