Echoes of the Past

You can love a person so much but still choose to say goodbye to them. You can miss someone badly but still be glad they aren’t in your life anymore. It’s hard to get over something that was so magical—something I once thought would last forever. It’s true—nothing really lasts forever—but I never believed that phrase until I was faced with it myself.

As I sip my coffee from the 12th floor of one of New York’s tallest buildings, now the CEO of one of the world’s leading makeup brands, I wonder: was it all meant to end like this?

Just then, I hear a soft knock on the door. I turn my head and see Samra Richards, my best friend and business partner, walking in with her usual smile. She’s always known me better than anyone.

“Girl, what’s with that look?” she teases, trying to make me smile. “Come on, don’t tell me it’s that guy again!”

I didn't answer her right away. Instead, I look back out the window, pretending I don’t hear her. But her presence makes me feel a little less alone. She comes closer and sits beside me, her eyes searching mine.

“Kyra,” she says softly, “I’ve known you since sixth grade. You can’t hide anything from me. Just tell me—what’s going on?”

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything inside me. Then I turn to face her.

“What if I had just stayed in Chicago that summer? What if I’d spent that time with you, just like I always did—every summer?”

“Well, it already happened,” she says. “And you’re not even in Italy anymore.”

I nod silently, feeling the familiar ache in my chest. We sat quietly for a moment, the city noise far away. Then I speak again.

“I don’t think I could love anyone else the way I loved him”, I whisper.

My story starts in Venice, Italy—a city of canals and history, full of beauty and memories. But when I was just eight years old, my parents moved us to Chicago. We settled into a new life, and eight years went by quickly. I grew up in Chicago, dreaming of the day I’d return to Italy. Then, when I was sixteen, my parents decided it was time to go back to Venice. They wanted me to embrace the culture they loved so much, to grow up in the city that shaped them.

Venice was different from Chicago—narrow streets and quiet canals. I started attending Sunny Valley Institute, or SVI—a school known for its bright, talented students. I remember walking through those crowded hallways, feeling excited but also overwhelmed. That’s when I first saw Silvano.

He was tall, with dark, intense eyes that seemed to hold secrets. From day one, he fell for me—his gaze never left me during class or at lunch. But I was oblivious, caught up in my own world, my heart already drawn to Aiden, the local heartthrob.

Aiden was the boy everyone admired. Charming, confident, and popular. He had a smile that made everyone fall for him. Silvano, on the other hand, was quiet, mysterious, and well-known around town, yet I never quite noticed him back then.

A few months after I arrived in Venice, Aiden and I started dating. We went on countless dates—riding gondolas through the canals, walking hand-in-hand through Piazza San Marco at sunset, sharing gelato in the quiet streets of Dorsoduro. Those days felt like a dream. Everything was perfect.

One evening, we sat along the edge of the Grand Canal. The moonlight shimmered on the water. Aiden looked at me with those gentle, tender eyes that made my heart race.

“You’re really special, Kyra,” he whispered softly, brushing my hair behind my ear. I felt like I was floating—lost in the magic of the moment. Then, he gently placed a necklace with a tiny “A” around my neck. It was simple, but it meant everything. That night, under the moonlight with the gentle sound of water was a moment I knew I would cherish forever.

We spent every day together that summer. I thought it would last forever. I believed I’d found my soulmate. But everything changed after two months.

One day, I saw him with another girl—Layla from Milan. I was walking home from school when I saw them in front of his house. He was holding her hand, smiling like I didn’t exist. My heart fell. I felt numb, like I’d been punched in the stomach. Tears blurred my vision, and I couldn’t breathe properly. My legs felt weak, and I just turned and ran, not knowing where I was going, just wanting to escape the pain.

After my breakup, Silvano reached out to me. We began talking more—about Venice, about life, about our hopes and dreams. He was gentle, patient, and understanding, always listening without judgment. I sensed he knew what had happened with Aiden, and I think a part of him felt relieved—maybe hopeful that he might have a chance with me. But I couldn’t ignore the sadness I saw in his eyes each time he looked at me. I knew he cared deeply, more than I realized, but I was still caught up in my heartbreak, unable to let go of Aiden and everything we had shared.

Despite everything, Silvano and I grew closer. We shared stories, laughed, and discovered we both loved art and music. But I never saw him as more than a friend. My heart belonged to Aiden—at least, I thought it did.

Then, I had to leave Italy again. My parents decided it was best for me to go back to Chicago. I hugged Silvano goodbye at the airport, tears in my eyes, promising to stay in touch. I left Venice behind, trying to forget the summer that had changed my life forever.

Back in Chicago, I threw myself into school and my dreams. I tried to forget Aiden, but he was always with me—his photos, the necklace he gave me, the memories of those perfect days. Sometimes, late at night, I’d cry myself to sleep, wondering how someone I loved so much could leave me so easily.

Silvano and I kept in touch for a few months, exchanging messages and calls. But life was busy, and over time, we drifted apart. I focused on my future, and he focused on his. Eventually, our contact faded into memories.

Now I’m only 24, but I’ve achieved a lot. I’m the CEO of a makeup brand that’s loved worldwide. I’ve come far from that young girl in Venice. Yet, Venice still haunts me. I haven’t been back since that summer. I buried those memories deep inside, telling myself it was better this way. But I knew—I was still running from the past.

Samra kept urging me to go back—to face my feelings, to find closure. “You can’t keep running,” she said. “We’re going to Venice tomorrow!”

At first, I hesitated. But then I nodded. Maybe it was time—to finally face everything I’d avoided for so long.

When I arrived in Venice, walking those familiar streets, everything flooded back. The city was just as beautiful, but now the memories hit me harder. Still, I felt calm, somehow. I knew Silvano had heard I was back.

One evening, I got a message from him—an invitation to meet. My heart pounded. We sat in a small cozy restaurant, and I noticed how nervous he looked. His hands trembled slightly, and his eyes seemed vulnerable—more than I’d ever seen. We talked about the past, about old times. Samra told him how we had come to Venice searching for Aiden.

Silvano knew how much I loved him.

“You really loved him,” he said softly, with sadness in his voice. “Yes, I really did”, I said as I took a deep breath.

We asked if he was still in contact with Aiden. He nodded. “Aiden’s in Milan,” he said quietly. My stomach clenched.

“Could he still be with Layla?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Silvano looked down, then back at me. “I don’t know, Kyra. Aiden keeps things private. But maybe we should find out.”

We decided to drive to Milan. Silvano came along, eager to help. The long drive was filled with music, laughter, and stories. I realized how much I missed him—how much I’d wanted someone who understood me.

Then, Silvano looked at me with a serious expression.

“Kyra,” he said softly, “I’ve loved you all these years. I never told you because I was afraid.”

At first, I thought he was joking. I laughed nervously, unsure if I believed him. But then I saw the sincerity in his eyes—that he truly meant it.

And yet, my heart still belonged to Aiden.

We sat in silence, feeling the weight of those words. Until Samra suddenly shouted, “We’re here, guys!”

We arrived at Aiden’s house. Silvano had contact with him, so we decided to go inside. My stomach twisted as we knocked. The door swung open—there was Layla standing behind Aiden. My heart sank. It was what I’d feared—he had been with her all these years. Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at her, understanding everything in that moment. It could’ve been me.

We made some excuse, saying we were just passing through, traveling. As we drove back to Venice, Samra kept trying to comfort me. But I was overwhelmed—by heartbreak, memories, and the cruel truth that some things could never be again.

Back home, I stayed inside for days. I was overwhelmed—by sadness, by memories, by the understanding that I’d lost something precious. I felt like I’d lost Silvano too. Nothing felt right anymore.

After a week, Silvano messaged me. “Are you okay?” he asked. I hesitated but then responded, telling him I was fine. We agreed to meet again—at the beach.

That evening, as the sun dipped into the water, casting a golden glow, I sat alone. Silvano and I talked about everything—our past, our hopes, our fears. And then, he reached out and took my hand. I looked into his eyes, and in that moment, everything felt right.

We leaned in and shared a gentle kiss—the kind that makes you realize what you’ve been missing. At that moment, I understood. Sometimes, heartbreak is necessary to find your way back home. And for me, that home was right here—on this quiet beach, with someone who truly cared.