The Summer He Never Spoke About - The Days That Started Slipping Away - Part 12

 “That summers… don’t last forever.”

The boy looked at Grandpa, a little more serious now.

“You knew it would end?” he asked.

Grandpa nodded slowly.

“I always knew,” he said.

“But knowing something… and feeling it…”

He paused.

“…are very different.”

The night breeze brushed past them again.

“The days after that,” Grandpa continued,
“became a routine.”

The boy smiled slightly. “A good routine?”

“The best kind,” Grandpa said.

“Every evening… around the same time…”

“I would go to the well.”

“And most days…”

He smiled faintly.

“…she would be there.”

The boy leaned back, imagining it.

“Sometimes we spoke,” Grandpa said.

“Sometimes… we didn’t.”

“Didn’t?” the boy asked.

Grandpa nodded.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he said softly,
“we had already said enough… without speaking.”

The boy didn’t interrupt this time.

“There were days,” Grandpa continued,
“when we would just stand there…”

“Doing our own things…”

“But aware of each other.”

“And that was enough?” the boy asked.

Grandpa smiled.

“More than enough.”

The silence between them grew comfortable again.

“But slowly…” Grandpa added.

The boy’s expression changed.

“What?”

“Small things started changing.”

“Like what?”

Grandpa looked down for a moment.

“She would come a little later than usual…”

“Or leave a little earlier…”

“That’s normal, right?” the boy said.

“Yes,” Grandpa agreed.

“But when you start noticing someone…”

He looked at him.

“…even normal things feel different.”

The boy nodded slowly.

“And then one day,” Grandpa continued,
“she didn’t come at all.”

The boy sighed softly.

“Again…”

“But this time,” Grandpa said,
“I didn’t feel the same as before.”

“How was it different?” the boy asked.

“I didn’t feel empty,” Grandpa said.

“I felt… restless.”

The boy leaned forward.

“As if something was about to change…”

Grandpa added.

“Did it?” the boy asked quietly.

Grandpa didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looked at the dark sky.

“The next day,” he said slowly,
“she came.”

The boy relaxed a little.

“But…”

Grandpa paused.

The boy closed his eyes briefly.

“There it is again… your ‘but’…”

Grandpa smiled faintly.

“She wasn’t the same,” he said.

The boy opened his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“She smiled…” Grandpa said.

“She spoke…”

“Then what changed?”

Grandpa’s voice lowered.

“Something in her felt… distant.”

The boy frowned.

“Like she was there…” Grandpa continued,
“…but already somewhere else.”

Silence.

“Did you ask her?” the boy finally said.

Grandpa shook his head.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Grandpa looked at him.

“Because sometimes…” he said quietly,
“…you’re afraid of hearing the answer.”

The boy didn’t argue.

“And that day,” Grandpa added,
“when she left…”

The boy leaned closer again.

“She didn’t say…”

He paused.

“…‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’”

The night felt heavier now.

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