The sun was going to set in that moment, and the twilight was cast over the silent, peaceful town of Willowbrook. Emily stood on the old wooden bridge crossing a small river, her fingers touching the carved initials at the railing. She hadn’t been there for years. Since the summer that changed everything.
It was the summer she met James.
Emily was a shy girl always lost in books and daydreams. She liked to be alone. That summer, however, her parents took the decision of spending their holidays at Emily’s grandmother’s house in Willowbrook, which she had seen only on holidays. Little did she know that that small sleepy town held a lot of surprises for her when James strolled into her life one day.
He had been sitting there under a big oak tree, right on the river, with his sketchpad in hand, lost in his own thoughts. Emily, bored and curious, had wandered over. As she approached, she saw how lovely the drawing was that he worked on—a fine portrait of the landscape in front of him. The subtle movement of water he captured so well, caught in there the thread of light beneath the trees. She didn’t even think of it when her voice burst out:.
That is so beautiful. “
James looked up, taken aback by her voice. He too, like her, was shy; he did not answer but smiled softly instead and nodded to show his acknowledgment of the compliment. Emily sat next to him, and for a long time, they just sat there in silence while they watched the world go by.
Week turned to week, and they drew closer, their own quiet way. No words were needed; it was formed of silent togetherness, through shared glances, comfortable silence-reading by the river each day, with James drawing while Emily reads.
He was the first one to really see her. With James, she did not have to be anything other than herself. He could see her, understand her, in a way that no one else had ever tried to do, and she began to see him. James had that still sadness; she couldn’t help but feel it was there, but she never asked him to define it. Instead, she remained with him and offered what comfort she could in the form of her presence.
The closer summer was reaching to the end, the easier she found herself falling for him in ways that caught her off-guard. It wasn’t dramatic or overwhelming – it was slow, like a gentle tide rose up quietly and filled her heart with warmth. One evening as they watched the sunset, she steeled herself, reached out, and took his hand. He hesitated for just a moment, then intertwined his fingers with hers and in that simple gesture, she felt everything.
But just as summer had brought them together, it was also the very thing that was going to tear them apart.
One afternoon, sitting under the oak tree, James finally spoke about the sadness that had been lingering around him. He said he was leaving. His family moved to another town at the end of the summer, and there was nothing he could do to stop this either.
It was then that the sad words hung in her air: Their time was limited. Emily had known that. She knew that all along. But it seemed so much different hearing it out loud. The weight of that reality was unbearable. She tried to smile, to be strong, but tears slipped down her cheeks despite her efforts.
James gently brushed them away, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears. He promised her that he never would forget her; he said it was something special, something that must stay in his mind, where he could live it over again and again. And though it hurt, Emily believed him.
On the last day of summer, they stood on the old wooden bridge, hands clasped tightly together. The sun was setting in a brilliant glow, much as it had been on the very first day, when she first saw him. James pulled out his sketch pad and handed it to her. Inside was a drawing of her, sitting by the river, lost in thought, just as he had seen her so many times.
“I’ll miss you,” he whispered, yawning.
“I’ll miss you too,” Emily said, heart aching to say goodbye.
And with that, James kissed her softly on the forehead, turned, and walked away.
Years passed by, and life went on. Emily moved to the city, started a career, and set up her life. But every now and again, she caught herself thinking of James, of their quiet summer by the river, and the love they shared never needing those words in the air.
Now, as she stood on that same old bridge, memories came flooding into her head as she smiled to herself tracing the initials carved into the wood she and James had made so long ago.
Some love stories didn’t require words. Some love stories survived in the silence between moments, in the unspoken promises and in the memories that time couldn’t erase.
And that was enough for Emily.
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