The town hadn’t changed.

Noah stared out the cracked window of the old bus as it rolled past the familiar landmarks of his childhood — the rusted swing set behind St. Mary’s Church, the boarded-up bakery where he and Elijah used to sneak pastries, and the crooked stop sign at the corner of Linden Street that no one ever bothered to fix.

It was like time had stood still. Except for him. He had changed — taller, leaner, more guarded. Ten years of silence had reshaped him into someone unrecognizable to the place he once called home.

He stepped off the bus with a duffel slung over his shoulder, the summer heat thick and clinging. The air smelled like dried grass and old secrets. He paused on the sidewalk, staring down the street toward the house at the end of the block — *Elijah’s house*.

They used to race down this very road barefoot, laughing and shouting, with scraped knees and wild hearts. Back when love hadn’t yet been named, and therefore, couldn’t yet be forbidden.

Noah hadn’t planned to come back. But the letter — the one that arrived two weeks ago, unsigned, written in shaky handwriting — changed everything.*“He’s gone. You should know.”*

He didn’t believe it at first. He refused. Elijah couldn’t be dead. Not him. Not the boy who used to tuck wildflowers behind Noah’s ear and whisper that the stars would understand them even if no one else did.

But now, standing here, heart hammering like he was seventeen again, Noah knew.

This wasn’t a visit. It was a return to a grave — even if he didn’t yet know where it was.

The house looked smaller than he remembered. The paint had faded, the porch sagged, and the front yard had surrendered to weeds. He walked slowly toward it, like the ground might open beneath him if he moved too fast.

He reached the steps. His hand trembled as he raised it to knock, but the door creaked open before he touched it.

A woman stood there. Older. Gray streaking through her black hair. Eyes swollen but sharp.

“Mrs. Reed,” Noah said, his voice barely more than a breath.

She looked at him like she was seeing a ghost. “You came,” she whispered.

“Is it true?” he asked. “Is Elijah really…?”

She nodded. “He waited. A long time.” Her eyes filled. “But you never came.”

Noah felt the world tilt under his feet. Everything inside him collapsed into silence.

The kind of silence that once kept their love hidden.

And now had buried it forever.

All he could do was just stare at the walls remincing on how they were happy back then before the entire world turned against them because of the love they shared which was considered something really sinful.

The homophobia in the society had made their love really bitter instead of bringing joy and happiness to them,they couldn't do anything in the community without being looked down upon or being judged.

---

Noah sat at the edge of Elijah’s bed — or what used to be his. The room was preserved like a photograph: books still stacked on the windowsill, an old denim jacket slung over the chair, a Polaroid of two boys taped to the mirror — one with dark curls, one with freckles, both grinning with their eyes closed.

His throat tightened.

Mrs. Reed had let him in without asking questions. Just pointed him upstairs and said, “You should see it before I pack it away.”

The house was quiet now, except for the tick of a wall clock and the sound of grief stretching itself across the floorboards.

Noah stood and walked to the desk. The wood was worn, but clean. Neat. Elijah had always been neat, even when everything around him was falling apart. He opened the drawer slowly, almost afraid of what he might find.

What he found was a bundle of *letters*, bound with twine, edges frayed.

Each envelope was addressed to *Noah Hale*. None were mailed.

His fingers trembled as he untied the twine. He opened the top letter.

*June 14, 2015*

*"I saw a boy today who had your walk. I followed him for three blocks before realizing he wasn’t you. I think I scared him. I miss you, and it’s not getting easier."*Noah folded it shut. He reached for the next.

*September 9, 2016*

*"Mom says you probably forgot. But I don’t believe her. I think you’re still out there, still trying to become someone strong enough to come back."*

Another.

*April 3, 2018*

*"I kissed someone last week. It didn’t feel like anything. Not like you."*

Noah read them all — *years of unsent words*, grief in ink, hope stitched into every line. Elijah hadn’t just waited — he had *lived inside the waiting*, one letter at a time.

By the last one, dated just months before his death, Noah was in tears.

*January 2, 2025*

*"I think I’m getting tired, Noah. But if you ever come back, I left the window unlocked. Just in case."*

The window was still unlocked.

Noah stood there in the fading light, a man ten years too late, holding the pieces of a love that had never been allowed to breathe.

He sank to the floor and whispered to the room that still smelled like Elijah, “I’m here now.”

But the silence didn’t answer.

Noah couldn't do anything except to regret why he hadn't come back earlier.

Pang of sadness pierced through his heart like a sharp sword through the flesh.

His throat tighten as he felt like screaming and letting out his anger.

He blamed it all on himself saying that if he was there earlier Elijah wouldn't have died.

He felt like everything happened because of him .Had I not confessed to Elijah that day this couldn't have happened, he wouldn't have died,he thought to himself as tears swelled up in his eyes and he couldn't control them any longer.

The funeral had already happened.

Noah learned that from the woman at the corner store, the one who used to sell them candy as kids. She recognized him instantly — not with warmth, but with a hesitation that stung. Like his presence reopened something she thought was long buried.

“Elijah was laid to rest last winter,” she said, handing him a bottle of water without making eye contact. “Snow on the ground. Quiet. Not many people came.”

“Why not?” Noah asked, already knowing.

She shrugged. “People here remember.”

He left without another word.

Back in town, whispers followed him. The boy who ran. The boy who loved another boy. The boy who broke Elijah Reed’s heart. No one said it out loud, but the silence screamed it.

That night, Noah walked to the cemetery just outside the edge of town. Moonlight spilled over the field like cold water. The wind was soft, carrying the scent of pine and something older—something lost.

He found the grave easily.

*Elijah Reed*

*2001–2025*

*"He loved without apology."*

Noah knelt beside it, fingers tracing the carved letters. That line — it was too honest, too brave for this town. Mrs. Reed must’ve fought for it.He sat there for hours, talking softly to the stone like it could hear him.

“I wanted to come back sooner. I told myself I would. But I got scared, Lij. Scared of what they did to us, what they might do again. And when the fear faded… I thought maybe you moved on. Maybe forgetting was easier for you than it was for me.”

He wiped his eyes, then laughed bitterly. “Turns out you remembered every damn day.”

The wind stirred, almost in response.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out the last letter Elijah wrote. He laid it gently against the stone.

“I came back. I just wish I hadn’t waited for your silence to call me home.”

He pressed his forehead to the earth and whispered the words they never got to say aloud:

“I loved you, too.”

And this time, not even the silence tried to deny it.

Noah cried out his heart at the cemetery,his world seems to crambled down,the man he loved laid there not sleeping but dead .

Thinking about not seeing Elijah tore him apart that he couldn't bring himself to stand upright on the ground.

He had always thought that when the right time comes he would definitely come back for the person he loved the most in the world,the love of his life.

But when the time came,the person his heart ached for ,the person he wanted to stay with for the rest of his life ,the person he wanted to hold and cuddle with every night with was dead he could bring himself to hide his sorrow.

He stayed up in the cemetery crying and sobbing so much , his heart was heartbroken so much that everything around him seemed so dark .

The love of his life was lying there lifelessly.

He couldn't believe it.

--