Summer's Echo

by Robbi Renee

The wedding was absolutely beautiful. Or at least I contemplated that it was, since I—the bride—wasn’t in attendance. That October day was perfect for a fall wedding, but just not perfect enough for me to marry Deshawn.

Since I was seventeen years old, she’d been mine. My best friend, my confidant, my homie. But life—and the life-altering mistake that changed everything had reshaped us—twisted our paths in ways I never saw coming.

Granny never let her forget it. “You better get a handle on those girls before they become fast tails and have a house full of li’l babies,” she would fuss,

“I don’t know, man. Maybe because no matter where y’all are in life, she still needs your support. She’s always had your support.”

“You’re not someone who makes rash decisions. You calculate and process—you don’t just act on impulse. It’s been a long time, but I still know you, Summer. And I refuse to believe you just woke up this morning and suddenly decided to walk away from the man you were supposed to spend your life with. When it’s the love of your life, you don’t just abandon everything you planned. Something happened. Something changed. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That boy got too much of your time, Summer. That kind of closeness? It don’t stay innocent forever.”

Summer’s fingers slipped from my grasp, and I turned to see her still standing by the door. The space hadn’t changed in years, every detail frozen in time, and I knew what she was thinking: This was the scene of the crime.

I was no longer interested in a relationship built on conditions, timelines, and rules—love that came with expectations instead of exhilaration.

And suddenly, it clicked. Echo and I were more than close. We had become so inseparable that even on a night meant for other people, other dates, other memories, we still found our way to each other.

“These are monarchs, Sunshine,” he had said, eyes bright with wonder. “Their wings may be fragile, but they’re stronger than they seem. They are known for their resilience and endurance, even in their delicacy. Monarchs migrate thousands of miles every year, no matter what. I sometimes wonder what kind of remarkable journeys they’ve been on.”

“Because I know my Sunshine, Mr. Knight.” I let the words sink in before adding, “Even after all these years, I’ll always find her when she needs me.” A moment passed. Then, synchronous nods from both men spoke volumes without them saying a single word. “You have my blessing, but tread lightly.”

Echo swept his lips over my cheek, his voice a rough, reverent whisper against my skin. “I always wanted us, Summer. I wanted our family.” Family. The word hung between us, like an elephant in the room, an obvious but ignored reality.