The Summer We Almost Missed

When Laura arrived in the small coastal town of Bellmere, she had no intention of falling in love.

She had come for three weeks, nothing more. Her aunt had left her an old blue house overlooking the sea, and Laura had decided to sell it before returning to the city. She had already signed the papers with the estate agent, packed most of her belongings, and made a list of everything that needed to be repaired before the house could be shown to potential buyers.

Love was not on the list.

Neither was James.

She met him on her second morning when he knocked on the front door carrying a toolbox.

“Are you Laura?”

She looked at him suspiciously.

“Yes.”

“I’m James. Your aunt asked me to look after the house.”

Laura glanced at the toolbox.

“Does that mean you’re a handyman?”

“Among other things.”

“What other things?”

“Mostly making mistakes and pretending they were intentional.”

She laughed before she could stop herself.

James smiled.

“Your aunt said the back window was broken.”

“It is.”

“I can fix it.”

Laura stepped aside.

“Go ahead.”

He walked through the hallway and into the kitchen. She followed him.

“Have you known my aunt long?”

“Since I was a kid.”

“She never mentioned you.”

“She probably didn’t mention most people.”

“That sounds like her.”

James examined the window.

“She was a good woman.”

“She was.”

There was a brief silence.

Laura looked toward the sea.

“I miss her.”

James nodded.

“So do I.”

He repaired the window in less than an hour. Before leaving, he noticed the boxes stacked near the staircase.

“You’re selling?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Everyone keeps saying that.”

“Because everyone here loved your aunt.”

Laura smiled sadly.

“I didn’t know how much this place meant to people.”

James looked at her.

“Maybe you should stay long enough to find out.”

She shook her head.

“I’m a city person.”

“That’s what people say before they become coastal people.”

“I won’t.”

“We’ll see.”

She smiled.

“We will.”

Over the next week, James kept finding reasons to visit.

The kitchen sink needed repairing.

The garden gate needed painting.

The old wooden bench on the porch was falling apart.

Laura began to suspect that her aunt had left James a list of imaginary repairs just to make sure he would keep her company.

One afternoon, she confronted him.

“Is there actually anything wrong with this house?”

James looked around.

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

He smiled.

“Your aunt told me to make sure you didn’t spend the entire summer alone.”

Laura stared at him.

“She did?”

“She said you’d try.”

Laura laughed.

“That sounds exactly like her.”

“She also said you work too much.”

“That sounds less like her and more like you.”

“Probably both.”

James sat on the porch.

“Come on.”

“Where?”

“To the beach.”

“I have work.”

“You’ve been working for six hours.”

“I need to finish.”

“You need sunlight.”

“That’s not how adulthood works.”

“It’s how summer works.”

She hesitated.

Then she put down her laptop.

“Fine.”

The beach was nearly empty.

James showed her a narrow path through the dunes that led to a quiet stretch of sand.

Laura took off her shoes.

“This is beautiful.”

“I know.”

They walked beside the water.

“Did you grow up here?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Never wanted to leave?”

“Once.”

“What happened?”

“My father got sick.”

Laura looked at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“He recovered.”

“And you stayed?”

James nodded.

“Sometimes life decides for you.”

She looked toward the horizon.

“I don’t like that.”

“Neither do I.”

“But?”

“But sometimes the life you get turns out to be better than the one you planned.”

Laura didn’t answer.

She was beginning to wonder if he was talking about her.

That summer, they became inseparable.

They ate ice cream after dinner, watched sunsets from the cliffs, and spent long evenings sitting on the porch listening to the waves.

Laura learned that James loved old jazz records and hated modern furniture. He knew every trail along the coast and could identify birds by their calls. He had a habit of tapping his fingers against the table whenever he was thinking.

James learned that Laura drank tea when she was stressed, that she hated flying, and that she had once dreamed of becoming a painter.

One night, he asked, “Why did you stop?”

She looked at the sea.

“I wasn’t good enough.”

“Who told you?”

“No one.”

“Then why believe it?”

She shrugged.

“Sometimes you’re your own worst critic.”

James looked at her.

“Maybe you need a better critic.”

She smiled.

“Are you volunteering?”

“I might be.”

Their first kiss happened during a power outage.

A summer storm had knocked out electricity across the town. Laura and James were sitting in the dark kitchen with candles between them.

“Do you remember when you said I wouldn’t become a coastal person?” James asked.

“I remember.”

“I was right.”

She laughed.

“I haven’t admitted that.”

“You don’t have to.”

Lightning illuminated the room.

Laura looked at him.

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

He hesitated.

“Because I want to kiss you.”

Her heart beat faster.

“So?”

“So I’m waiting to see if you want me to.”

Laura leaned closer.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you hadn’t waited.”

He smiled.

Then he kissed her.

It was gentle and uncertain at first, but soon the storm outside became irrelevant.

When they separated, Laura whispered, “This is a bad idea.”

“Probably.”

“I’m leaving in two weeks.”

“I know.”

“I live in London.”

“I know.”

“This can’t work.”

James looked at her.

“Maybe.”

She frowned.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know.”

He took her hand.

“Then let’s not decide tonight.”

They didn’t.

For two weeks, they pretended the summer would never end.

Then Laura’s departure became unavoidable.

Her train was booked.

The house was sold.

Her apartment in London was waiting.

On her final evening, James took her to the cliffs.

The sun was setting over the sea.

“I don’t want to go,” Laura said.

James was quiet.

“Say something.”

“I don’t want you to go either.”

She looked at him.

“Then ask me to stay.”

He swallowed.

“Stay.”

She closed her eyes.

“Again.”

“Stay.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

Laura opened her eyes.

Neither of them moved.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

James smiled sadly.

“Then stay.”

“I can’t.”

His smile faded.

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“That if I stay, I’ll give up everything I’ve built.”

“And if you leave?”

She looked toward the sea.

“I might give up something better.”

He took her hand.

“You don’t have to choose between your life and me.”

“How?”

“We’ll find a way.”

She shook her head.

“You make it sound easy.”

“It won’t be.”

“Then why are you so calm?”

“I’m not.”

She looked at him.

He was crying.

That was when she realized how hard he had been trying to be brave.

Laura stepped forward and hugged him.

“I don’t know what happens next.”

“Neither do I.”

“I hate goodbyes.”

“Then don’t say goodbye.”

The next morning, Laura boarded the train.

James stood on the platform.

She pressed her hand against the window.

He raised his.

The train began moving.

For the first few minutes, Laura watched Bellmere disappear behind her.

Then she reached into her bag and found the house keys.

She stared at them.

Suddenly, she stood.

“Stop!”

The other passengers looked at her.

She ran toward the conductor.

“Excuse me!”

He looked confused.

“What is it?”

“I need to get off.”

“We’ve already left the station.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Laura laughed nervously.

“Because I made a mistake.”

The conductor stared at her.

“I don’t think we can stop.”

“I know.”

She sat down, breathing heavily.

For the first time in years, she realized something.

She had always believed courage meant leaving.

Maybe sometimes it meant staying.

Laura called the estate agent.

“Hello?”

“Yes, it’s Laura.”

“The buyer has already signed the final documents.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“I want to know if there’s any way to undo the sale.”

There was a long silence.

“There may be.”

Three days later, Laura stood outside the blue house again.

James was in the garden repairing the gate.

He looked up.

His face went completely still.

“What are you doing here?”

Laura smiled.

“I changed my mind.”

“You’re staying?”

“If you’ll have me.”

He dropped the screwdriver.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

He ran toward her.

She laughed as he lifted her off the ground.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“So did I.”

“What changed?”

She touched his face.

“I realized that I was afraid of losing my old life.”

“And?”

“And then I realized I was more afraid of losing you.”

He kissed her.

Behind them, the sea stretched endlessly beneath the afternoon sun.

Laura never became exactly the person she had been in the city.

She changed.

She painted again.

She opened a small studio near the harbor.

James helped her renovate it, although he insisted that the crooked shelves were intentional.

They married two years later on the beach where they had first walked together.

When people asked Laura whether she regretted leaving London, she always smiled.

“No,” she would say.

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t give up my life.”

She would look toward James.

“I found it.”

And every summer after that, whenever the sun set over Bellmere, they returned to the same cliffs.

Sometimes they talked.

Sometimes they were silent.

But whenever Laura took James’s hand, she remembered the summer when she had almost missed the most important decision of her life.

And she was grateful that, at the very last moment, she had found the courage to turn around.