CHAPTER 162: THE BOY WHO STOLE HIS SMILE

The car hummed to life, its low rumble filling the quiet driveway.

Noel leaned his forehead briefly against the window, watching the familiar street glide by in reverse as his father backed out.

The old neighborhood looked softer in the morning light, as if it already knew he was leaving again.

Richard cleared his throat, one hand steady on the wheel. "So... a boyfriend, huh?"

Noel dragged his gaze from the glass, lips quirking. "Dad, we’re still on this?"

"I’m just saying." Richard’s mouth curved into the shadow of a smile. "You could’ve given me a little warning. Thought I’d at least get an introduction before it became official."

"You’ll meet him soon enough," Noel promised, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Richard’s brows rose. "Soon enough? That sounds like next week, not next year."

Noel laughed, shaking his head. "Don’t overthink it. Just... be patient."

Richard sighed, tapping his fingers against the wheel. "You know your mom doesn’t survive on patience. She’s already planning holidays, birthdays, snack packs for two..." He side-eyed his son with mock despair. "And now I’m supposed to adjust too?"

"You make it sound like I’ve betrayed you," Noel teased.

"Not betrayed," Richard said with a snort. "Just feels like you grew up while I was busy reading dusty books in the library. One minute you’re begging me for coins to buy candy, next minute you’re telling me about a boyfriend like it’s the weather report."

Noel’s smile softened, his chest tightening at the quiet honesty in his father’s tone. He didn’t interrupt.

Richard’s eyes stayed fixed on the road. "You know I just want you safe, right? The world can be... less kind than this house." His voice dipped lower, weighted. "I can argue with your mom all day about snacks and vacations, but I can’t argue with what people out there might say."

Noel sat straighter, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I know. But I’m not scared, Dad. And you don’t need to be either."

Finally, Richard glanced over, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You sound more grown up than I expected."

"And you sound like you need a vacation more than Mom," Noel shot back with a grin.

Richard chuckled, the heaviness lifting. He reached across, squeezing Noel’s shoulder. "Just don’t forget this is still home. No matter what house that boy of yours finds."

Noel swallowed hard, looking back out the window so his father wouldn’t see how much those words hit. "I won’t."

The station appeared ahead, steel arches stretching into the pale sky. The place buzzed with movement—suitcases rolling, voices clashing, the occasional whistle cutting through the hum.

Richard pulled up near the entrance, killing the engine. The sudden quiet inside the car pressed heavier than the noise outside.

For a long moment, neither moved.

Noel traced the strap of his bag with his fingers before glancing sideways. "You’re staring again."

Richard blinked, caught. "Can’t a father look at his son before sending him off?"

"You’ll see me soon," Noel said softly, though the words didn’t untangle the knot in his chest.

"Soon still feels too long." Richard’s hand flexed on the wheel, then released. "You’ve got everything you need?"

"Yeah." Noel patted his bag, forcing a smile. "Didn’t even forget my toothbrush."

Richard shook his head, laughing quietly. "Of all things..." He leaned back, shoulders easing. "You know your mom will call every single day."

"Every day," Noel corrected with a grin. "And don’t pretend you won’t sneak in your own calls."

Richard’s mouth twitched. "Maybe." He hesitated, then let the words fall, softer than before. "I’ll miss you, Noel."

The honesty caught Noel off guard. He swallowed hard, blinking before the air blurred. Quickly, he leaned over, wrapping his arms around his father. Richard froze only a second before holding him back—firm, steady, the way only he could.

"I’ll miss you too," Noel murmured into his jacket.

They lingered longer than either admitted, until Noel finally pulled back. Richard cleared his throat, eyes brighter than usual.

"Go on," he said gruffly, forcing a smile. "Before I change my mind and lock you in the house."

Noel laughed through the ache, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He opened the door, the morning air rushing in. But before stepping out, he looked back.

"Tell Mom... not to plan the whole wedding before she even meets him."

Richard chuckled, shaking his head. "No promises."

With that, Noel disappeared into the tide of travelers. Richard watched until his son melted into the station crowd, his fingers still curled loosely around the wheel—like letting go was harder than he’d admit.

The train’s whistle cut sharp through the air, long and final. As the platform slid away, Noel pressed his forehead to the glass. Strangers hurried past, families clung to last embraces—until the platform itself was gone.

But what lingered was his father’s image, standing by the car, shoulders squared but eyes following him until the last possible second.

He exhaled slowly, fogging the glass. With his sleeve, he wiped it clear, unwilling to let the world blur.

The seat beside him stayed empty, and for once, he welcomed it. The train’s steady rhythm reminded him of a heartbeat—relentless, carrying him forward whether he was ready or not.

His phone buzzed. One unread message.

From Dad:

Don’t skip meals. Call me if you need anything. Proud of you.

Noel’s lips curved despite the heaviness under his ribs. He typed back slowly:

I will. Love you, Dad.

He locked the phone again, holding it tight as though the words themselves had weight.

Outside, the city gave way to rolling fields cloaked in morning mist.

Noel found comfort in the sight, though uncertainty still pressed at him—half-veiled, half-revealed, like the hills themselves.

But when he thought of Luca—the complaints, the crooked smiles, the way he stayed no matter what—the ache inside him eased.

Leaning back, Noel let the train cradle him forward, anticipation blooming in the space his father’s embrace had left behind.

The front door clicked softly as Richard stepped inside, slipping his shoes off in the entryway. The house felt quieter without Noel, almost too still.

From the couch, Clara looked up from the magazine she hadn’t really been reading. She rose immediately, brushing her hands on her skirt. "You’re back."

Richard gave a tired nod, hanging his jacket. "Dropped him off. Train’s already gone."

Clara studied his face as he sank into the couch. She sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. For a while neither spoke, the silence stretching heavy between them.

Finally, she broke it. "Do you think... we did the right thing? Letting him go like that. Letting him..." Her voice faltered. "Follow this path?"

Richard rubbed his palms together, staring at the carpet. "What else could we do? Chain him here?" He sighed, leaning back. "He’s not a kid anymore, Clara."

"That’s not what I mean." Her fingers twisted in her lap. "It’s just... will he really be happy like this? With a man? The world isn’t kind. People can be cruel."

Richard’s eyes softened as he turned toward her. "People will always have something to say. Doesn’t matter if it’s about who he loves or what shoes he wears. But him?" He shook his head firmly. "I saw his face in that car. He’s sure. Surer than I’ve ever been about anything at his age."

Clara bit her lip, her gaze dropping. "I just want him safe. Loved. Not... hurt."

Richard reached over, covering her hands with his. His grip was warm, steady. "So do I. But keeping him from Luca won’t protect him. Loving him enough to let him go... that’s the only thing we can do."

Her throat worked around a quiet sound that was half sigh, half laugh. "You always make it sound so simple."

"It’s not simple." He gave a faint smile. "It’s just worth it."

She leaned against him then, resting her head on his shoulder. For a long moment, they stayed like that, the quiet wrapping around them like a blanket.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer, almost conspiratorial. "You know... I keep imagining what he looks like. Luca. The boy who makes our Noel smile like that."

Richard gave her a sideways look. "Already planning to set another place at the table?"

"Of course." Clara mouth curved, a hopeful warmth in her eyes. "The sooner he visits, the sooner I can fuss over both of them. And maybe finally see the face that stole my son’s heart."

Richard chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re incorrigible."

"Just a mother," she countered gently.

Richard pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice dropping low. "He’ll be alright. He has to be."

Clara whispered, "As long as he’s happy."

Richard’s arm tightened around her shoulders. His gaze drifted to the doorway, where Noel had disappeared hours earlier, and his chest ached with both worry and pride.

"Then that’s enough," he murmured. "Whatever storms come, we’ll face them with him."

Clara leaned into him, her smile faint but sure. For the first time since Noel left, the silence felt like hope.