Louis Tomlinson was well-known in town as a man of few words, uptight and disciplined, yet deeply respected. He owned a mechanic shop and worked hard every day, his intense presence impossible to ignore. Though he kept to himself, everyone in the town recognized his values, and no one questioned his authority as an elder.

He was also a single father, raising his teenage daughter alone after losing his wife years ago. He expected perfection from her—top grades, church every Sunday, and volunteer work to help those in need. There was no room for laziness. Technology, he believed, was a distraction, so she only had a flip phone, a constant reminder of his old-fashioned beliefs.

But lately, she had told him she might be queer, that she might have feelings for a girl. The confession hit him like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know how to react, but his love for her kept him from voicing his judgment.

They sat across from each other at the dinner table. Louis ate his food, his eyes fixed on the plate, as the silence hung heavy between them.

“How’s school?” he asked sharply, his voice gruff, without looking up.

“Good, Dad,” she replied, forcing a weak smile.

“And the volunteer work? How did that go?” he pressed, still focused on his food, cutting into his meat with careful precision.

“Good,” she said again, her voice quieter now, as if sensing the tension.

Louis took another bite, chewing slowly, before he finally let out a long breath and broke the silence. “And how’s your… friend?” His words hung in the air, sharp but controlled, as he kept his eyes on the plate, unwilling to meet her gaze.