The Summer That Never Ended

The car rumbled down the winding road, swallowed by towering pine trees and the thick scent of earth and rain. Ryan sat in the backseat, forehead resting against the cold glass, watching as the world blurred past him. His parents sat in the front, chatting idly about the upcoming vacation, while his younger sister hummed a tune, oblivious to his reluctance.

A summer trip. Another forced excursion into some distant town his parents had chosen in an attempt to "bring the family closer." As if that ever worked. He was already overwhelmed with stress—college applications, constant pressure, and the gnawing feeling that nothing in his life made sense. He didn’t need this trip. He needed time alone.

The town they arrived in was nothing spectacular. A small coastal village, hugged by rolling cliffs and open fields, with streets so quiet they felt frozen in time. The air smelled of salt, and the wind carried the distant echoes of seagulls. It was the place where everyone knew everyone, where the local bakery still sold fresh bread before dawn, and where the bookstore had that comforting old-paper scent that lingered long after you left.

They stayed in a rented cottage near the beach, where waves crashed against the shore in a rhythmic, endless melody. It was supposed to be relaxing, but for Ryan, it was suffocating. His parents were so insistent on ‘family time’ that they left no space for his solitude. His sister, younger by five years, constantly pestered him to join in her sandcastle-building adventures, but he couldn’t find the energy to pretend to care. 

Ryan spent the first few days alone, reading in the corner of the porch or walking along the beach, hands in his pockets, lost in his thoughts. He wasn’t in the mood to mingle. Until he met her.

Her name was Evelyn.

They met by accident. Ryan had been walking near the town’s bookstore when he bumped into her—literally. She had been carrying a stack of books, and they scattered all over the sidewalk. She let out an annoyed huff, brushing back strands of dark hair from her eyes, but her irritation softened when she looked at him.

“Wow,” she muttered, kneeling to gather her books. “What a fantastic first impression.”

Ryan hesitated before helping her pick them up. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

She glanced at the book in his hand. "You read Tolstoy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded.

That was all it took.

They spent the rest of the summer together, meeting at odd places—the bookstore, the cliffs, the quiet café near the beach where she claimed they made the best coffee. Evelyn was different. She wasn’t loud or overly cheerful, but she had an unshakable presence as if she saw through everything. She spoke about books like they were people, about the universe like it had secrets only she could decipher. And for the first time in a long while, Ryan felt like he belonged somewhere.

The summer days melted away. They watched the sun disappear beyond the horizon and exchanged stories about their lives, their fears, and their dreams. She made him laugh. He made her feel understood. They were two lost souls who had somehow found each other in the vast open world.

Then, summer ended.

Ryan packed his bags with a heaviness he couldn’t shake. Saying goodbye to Evelyn was harder than he thought. She stood by the bookstore, her usual spot, hands in her pockets as the wind tugged at her hair.

“Don’t forget me,” she teased, though there was something sad in her eyes.

“Never,” Ryan promised.

They exchanged numbers. A thin thread connecting them despite the distance.

When he returned home, everything felt… empty. The same suffocating routine, the same pressures pressing down on him. But there was one difference—Evelyn. They texted every day, late into the night. She was his escape, his sanity in a world that never stopped demanding. They shared everything—their joys, their sorrows, their silence.

She made his world brighter.

Then one night, the messages stopped.

It happened on an ordinary evening. Ryan had gone out to get groceries. A drunk driver had run a red light. The impact was instant. The world blurred, sirens screamed in the distance, and everything went dark.

When Evelyn’s phone rang that night, she answered, expecting Ryan’s voice.

Instead, it was his mother.

The words didn’t make sense at first.

“…passed away in an accident…”

“…we thought you should know…”

Her heart stopped.

No.

Not Ryan. Not him.

She called his number over and over again, but there was no answer. She stared at their old texts, rereading their last conversation. It had been just a few hours ago.

Evelyn: You still awake?

Ryan: Of course. Can’t sleep. Thinking too much again.

Evelyn: Typical. What’s on your mind?

Ryan: You.

Her hands trembled. The person who had sent her that message was gone. The realization shattered something inside her. She curled up in bed, clutching her phone as if holding onto the last piece of him.

The world kept moving, but hers had stopped. The messages she sent remained unread. She visited the bookstore, the cliffs, and the café where they had laughed together, but he wasn’t there.

He would never be there again.

She wrote to him every night, even though she knew he would never respond.

Evelyn: Hey, I miss you.**

Evelyn: Did you know I found another Tolstoy book? You would’ve loved it.**

Evelyn: It’s not fair, Ryan. It’s not fair.**

Days turned into weeks, into months. People told her to move on. That time healed everything.

They were wrong.

Some wounds never heal.

Some nights, she found herself staring at their old texts for hours, scrolling up and rereading every word, as if somehow, she could bring him back. She imagined what he would say if he were still here, the teasing remarks, the quiet confessions.

She continued sending him messages.

Evelyn: It’s raining today. Remember how you always said the rain made you feel alive?**

Evelyn: I went to the café. It wasn’t the same without you.**

Evelyn: I miss you so much it hurts.**

She knew she would never get a reply. But some part of her refused to stop.

The summer they had spent together remained frozen in time, untouched by the world’s cruel indifference. In her mind, Ryan was still there, standing by the bookstore, waiting with that small, knowing smile.

And in some ways, the summer never ended.

Because he never left her heart.

And he never would.

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