A Whisper of Summer
As the semester edged toward its end, the air on campus grew warmer, sweeter. Spring's soft bloom began giving way to early hints of summer—the kind that stretched lazily across the days and made even the busiest student feel like pausing for breath.
Emma and Sam found more moments of silence in each other's company now, not because there was less to say, but because comfort had settled in. Long walks. Lazy mornings. Studio nights filled with music instead of pressure.
But peace wasn't the same as certainty.
The Internship
"Did you apply?" Sam asked one evening, casually flipping through a sketchbook as Emma packed up her latest canvas.
Emma looked over at him, a frown tugging at her lips. "For the Rome residency? No. I haven't decided."
Sam sat up straighter. "Emma, come on. That's huge. You've been dreaming about that since—like—forever."
"I know," she said quietly, pushing brushes into her bag. "But it's three months… in another country."
He tilted his head. "Is it the distance? Or… me?"
Emma looked up at him, the truth heavy behind her eyes. "I'm scared. Of going. Of leaving. Of losing you."
Sam stood and walked over to her, gently taking her paint-stained hands. "Listen to me. If that's what's holding you back, don't let it. You have to chase that dream. I want you to. And I'll still be here when you come back."
Emma blinked quickly, the threat of tears rising.
"I don't want us to become something I regret," she whispered.
"And we won't," he promised. "But if you don't do this—that's what you'll regret."
She didn't answer. Not yet. But deep down, she knew he was right.
The Whisper of Old Ghosts
A week later, Emma was at the campus library, buried in a pile of reference books, when a voice made her look up.
"Emma?"
It was Sofia.
Emma's breath caught. They hadn't spoken since the day everything fell apart.
Sofia offered a cautious smile. "Hey… I didn't know if I should say hi, but... here I am."
Emma hesitated, then closed her book slowly. "Hi."
Sofia shifted awkwardly, clutching a thick notebook to her chest. "I wanted to apologize. For the way I left things. With you. And Sam."
Emma studied her. "You don't need to explain."
"I do," Sofia said firmly. "I was wrong. I was jealous of something I didn't even understand. And I hurt you both because of it."
Emma's throat tightened. "Why now?"
Sofia gave a sheepish smile. "Because I heard about the Rome offer. And I remembered how you used to talk about it like it was your North Star."
Emma's brows lifted in surprise.
"Just… don't let people like me stop you from reaching it," Sofia finished. "You deserve it."
There was a beat of silence, then Emma nodded. "Thank you."
It wasn't forgiveness. Not entirely. But it was a beginning.
The Letter
That night, Emma sat on her bed, her laptop open in front of her. She stared at the application portal, heart pounding.
Sam had fallen asleep on the couch beside her, exhausted after a full day of filming for his media class. He looked peaceful, stretched out under the warm lamplight, lips slightly parted.
Emma smiled softly.
Then, she clicked Submit.
She watched the confirmation screen appear and leaned back in her chair. The decision was made.
She whispered, almost to herself, "I'm going."
Sam stirred slightly in his sleep but didn't wake. She walked over, tucked a blanket around him, and kissed his forehead.
She didn't know what the future would look like exactly. But she'd just taken the first step.
Farewells and Firsts
The final weeks of the semester moved fast. Projects were submitted, critiques given, and friends began packing up their rooms. Graduation ceremonies loomed for the seniors. Goodbyes hung thick in the air.
Emma and Sam stood in front of the art building on their last day together before her flight. He was holding a tiny sketchbook she'd gifted him—each page filled with memories: coffee stains, pressed flowers, even a doodle of their first walk together.
"You'll come back, right?" he said with a smirk, trying to keep it light.
She smiled. "If I don't, it's only because Rome kidnapped me."
"Rome's gonna have to fight me then."
They laughed, then stood silently.
"I'm scared," she admitted, stepping into his arms.
He hugged her tightly. "Good. That means it matters."
She pulled back, just enough to look into his eyes.
"I love you," she said.
Sam froze for just a breath, then grinned wide.
"I love you too."
They kissed—soft, slow, and full of every promise neither had the words to say.
And as the sun set behind them, Emma realized: this wasn't an ending.
It was a beginning.