Summer at the Farmhouse 🌾 Katy hadn’t visited her grandparents’ farmhouse in years. Nestled on the outskirts of a quiet rural town, it was the kind of place where time slowed down and the sunsets painted poetry across the sky. She arrived just before dusk, her suitcase light but her heart full of memories, golden summers, laughter under apple trees, and the boy she used to race through the fields with. She wandered through the creaky wooden porch and was greeted by the familiar scent of dried lavender and old books. The farmhouse hadn’t changed. Neither had the oak tree out back, the one she used to climb with Kevin. And then, as if the past was calling her back, she heard a voice. “Katy?” She turned. There he was, Kevin. Still with that crooked smile, now with a few more freckles and a calm in his eyes that hadn’t been there when they were kids. He was visiting his uncle next door and had stopped by to say hello. That hello turned into an hour on the porch swing, which turned into a walk through the wheat fields under moonlight and passionate sex in the field. They talked about everything and nothing. About how time had trickled by, and how both had chased their dreams in distant cities. She shared stories of photo shoots and fashion shows; he told her about building furniture and restoring vintage barns. And in that quiet night, with fireflies blinking softly around them, the distance between childhood and now felt suddenly small. Her grandparents had already gone to bed, leaving an extra quilt on the couch and a slice of pie in the fridge. Kevin stayed a while longer, just talking and reminiscing. And when the stars started melting into the horizon, he kissed her on the cheek,the same way he used to when they were thirteen and awkward, and whispered, “Some moments are meant to circle back. Katy smiled, curled up under the quilt, and thought to herself, Maybe this summer was the one that would write a new chapter. She drifted off to sleep with a heart full of warmth and the scent of wheat still in her hair.