A Bittersweet Adieu: How ‘The Summer I Turned Pretty’ Season 3 Finale Swaps Vows for a Tearful Paris Embrace, Leaving Fans in Tears

In the sweltering haze of late summer 2025, Prime Video’s The Summer I Turned Pretty bid farewell to its sun-kissed world with Season 3, Episode 11, titled “At Last.” Airing on September 17, the series finale—adapting Jenny Han’s beloved trilogy—delivered a gut-wrenching pivot that has fans reeling. Gone was the grand beachside wedding from We’ll Always Have Summer, the third book’s epilogue where Isabel “Belly” Conklin (Lola Tung) and Conrad Fisher (Christopher Briney) finally tie the knot amid crashing waves and nostalgic callbacks. In its place? A raw, rain-slicked reunion on the banks of the Seine in Paris, a moment so intimate and achingly honest it traded spectacle for soul-baring vulnerability. As Belly and Conrad collide in a whirlwind of confessions, kisses, and quiet devastation, the episode closes a chapter that began three summers ago, leaving viewers stunned, sobbing, and starved for more.

For the uninitiated—or those still recovering from the emotional whiplash—The Summer I Turned Pretty chronicles Belly’s coming-of-age amid the eternal tug-of-war between the Fisher brothers: the brooding, bookish Conrad and the golden-boy charmer Jeremiah (Gavin Casalegno). What started as a sun-drenched YA romance evolved into a poignant exploration of grief, growth, and the messy alchemy of first love. Season 3, premiering in July 2025, ramped up the stakes with Belly’s ill-fated engagement to Jeremiah, a plotline that detonated in Episode 9’s chaotic non-wedding. Fleeing the wreckage, Belly decamps to Paris for a study-abroad reset, chopping her signature waves into a chic bob and dipping her toes into a flirtation with local artist Benito (Fernando Cattori). It’s a bold arc of self-discovery, far from the Cousins Beach cocoon where her heart has always been tangled.

Episode 10, released a week prior, masterfully built dread and hope in equal measure. Conrad, haunted by Susannah’s (Jackie Hoffman) lingering ghost and his own unspoken regrets, reconciles tentatively with Jeremiah during a tense Friendsgiving gathering back home. The brothers’ raw exchange—Jeremiah urging Conrad not to squander his shot with Belly—crackles with the pain of fractured brotherhood. Meanwhile, in Paris, Belly navigates holiday lights and midnight scooter rides with Benito, her letters from Conrad (sent with the iconic infinity necklace) a lifeline amid the city’s romantic sprawl. The episode closes on a heart-stopping cliffhanger: Conrad, ticket in hand, boards a flight not to his Brussels conference, but to Belly’s doorstep. “This is it,” fans whispered online, bracing for the collision of past and present.

Then came “At Last.” Directed by Jesse Peretz and penned by Han herself, the 55-minute finale opens with Conrad’s arrival at Belly’s Montmartre apartment, his face etched with the exhaustion of a man who’s crossed an ocean on a wing and a prayer. She’s mid-celebration for her 22nd birthday, surrounded by quirky roommates and Benito’s lingering charm—his parting gift, a intimate portrait of her asleep, a subtle nod to the life she’s building sans the Fishers. The initial awkwardness is palpable: Belly, now “Isabel” in her newfound maturity, greets him with a hug that’s half-relief, half-reservation. They tour Paris by tourist bus, the Eiffel Tower looming like a judgmental chaperone, as Conrad admits he feared her exile was self-punishment for the wedding fallout. “I thought you were running from us,” he confesses. Belly counters that she’s no longer the villain in their love triangle—she’s just… her.

Intercut with this tentative thaw are vignettes from Cousins, tying up loose ends with a gentleness that contrasts the central storm. Jeremiah (now sober and thriving as a chef) hosts a make-or-break dinner for his pop-up restaurant, where he shares a charged kiss with co-worker Denise (a fresh face played by Ayo Edebiri), signaling his pivot toward healing. Steven (Sean Kaufman) and Taylor (Rain Spencer) navigate their long-distance woes—her San Francisco dreams clashing with his East Coast roots—culminating in a raw confrontation that hints at growth, not rupture. Laurel (Kyra Sedgwick) and ex-husband John (David Iacono) co-parent with quiet steadiness, while Adam’s (Kyren Romeo) comic relief (and ill-timed wedding champagne) lightens the load. Belly’s dad, mercifully, dodges the grim fate fans dreaded after his earlier health scare. These threads weave a tapestry of forward momentum, underscoring the show’s thesis: love isn’t just romance; it’s the messy mosaic of family.

But the beating heart—and the tear ducts—of the episode pulses in Paris. After a boozy birthday bash where Benito graciously bows out, Conrad and Belly wander to the Seine at midnight. Under a canopy of stars and string lights, they slow-dance to an ethereal cover of “At Last,” Etta James’ soul-stirrer repurposed for their fractured fairy tale. Belly admits Conrad’s letters sustained her through the loneliness; he reveals he’s spent the year in therapy, unpacking the grief that once armored his heart. “I see you now, Isabel,” he whispers, and in that vulnerability, the dam breaks. Their kiss—fueled by moonlight and months of pent-up longing—ignites into a steamy sequence: a frantic taxi ride, a stairwell tryst, and a tender consummation in her apartment, scored to Taylor Swift’s “Dress.” It’s sexy, yes, but searingly honest, a far cry from the brothers’ earlier fumbling encounters. As Screen Rant aptly put it, this “spark… finally materialized,” eclipsing even the books’ implied passion.

The genius—and gut-punch—of this choice lies in its subversion. Han’s novels culminate in a joyous wedding: Belly and Conrad, post-college, sprint into the ocean for a splashy first dance, surrounded by the Cousins clan, sealing their “infinite” bond with vows and volleyball. It’s triumphant, a bow on the trilogy’s hard-won happily-ever-after. The show, however, opts for prelude over payoff. We get no rings, no toasts, no Susannah’s unopened letter revealing prophetic wedding hints from earlier episodes. Instead, a quick time-jump shows Belly and Conrad driving back to the beach house, hand in hand, the drone shot fading on its weathered facade as if whispering, “And they lived summerly ever after.” It’s poetic, prioritizing emotional reunion over ceremonial closure, but for book purists, it’s a theft. “We didn’t get Belly and Conrad’s wedding. We didn’t get their first dance to ‘Stay.’ We never got the Valentine’s Day flashback,” lamented one fan on X, echoing a chorus of disappointment.

The fandom’s response? A tidal wave of catharsis laced with salt. X (formerly Twitter) lit up like a fireworks finale, with #TheSummerITurnedPretty trending worldwide. Team Conrad rejoiced: “SCREAMING……Under the moonlight, in paris, ahhhh,” gushed @oyemnassxo, capturing the collective squeal over the Seine-side smooch. “Belly and Conrad are FINALLY endgame; Fans ‘Can’t Stop Screaming,'” blared News18 headlines, as clips of the love scene racked up millions of views. Yet grief threaded through the glee. “Disappointed is an understatement… Absolute abomination. Retconning your female lead’s character growth for an infinity leash,” raged an IMDb reviewer, decrying the rushed pivot from empowered Paris Belly to Conrad’s arms in a single day. Reddit’s r/TheSummerITurnedPrett thread ballooned to nearly 3,000 comments, a mix of “10/10 no notes” defenses and pleas for a wedding flash-forward: “We deserve it as loyal fans!!”

Critics mirrored the divide. Collider called it a “rushed ending [that] robbed us of the best book scenes,” lamenting the episode’s overindulgence in Jeremiah’s “odd, culinary-themed side quest” at the expense of Bonrad (Belly-Conrad shippers’ portmanteau) bliss. ELLE praised the “masterful” intimacy but noted the “strange” disconnect in Conrad and Belly’s initial Paris vibes, a deliberate awkwardness that paid off in their moonlit thaw. FandomWire hailed it as “thrilling,” emphasizing how the finale honored the books’ spirit—Belly choosing Conrad—while forging its own path: “After all the ups and downs, a failed wedding, misunderstandings, heartache, and denial, [they] finally found their way back to each other.”

At a glitzy Paris event celebrating the drop—complete with Eiffel Tower projections and Swiftian playlists—Han addressed the elephant in the room. “I’m so grateful to Prime Video for continuing to support my vision,” she said, hinting at untapped stories in the Cousins universe. Whispers of a feature film swirled, with Deadline reporting fan frenzy over potential spin-offs: a Jeremiah culinary dramedy? A Taylor-Steven road-trip rom-com? Han’s end-credits letter, a handwritten missive thanking viewers, teases “something more to come,” fueling speculation of bonus episodes or a movie wedding redux. “We need to see them together, their engagement and their wedding,” echoed fans at the soiree, their pleas amplified by Han’s coy smile.

Three years on, The Summer I Turned Pretty leaves an indelible tan line on pop culture. It transformed Han’s intimate trilogy—sold over 2 million copies worldwide—into a bingeable phenomenon, spawning TikTok edits, Swiftie soundtracks, and debates fiercer than a beach volleyball match. Lola Tung’s Belly evolved from awkward teen to resilient woman, her arc a beacon for anyone who’s ever outgrown their summer self. Briney’s Conrad, once a cipher of quiet intensity, cracked open like a conch shell, his tears in Paris a revelation. Casalegno’s Jeremiah, too, emerged redeemed—not as the eternal also-ran, but a man reclaiming his light.

Yet the finale’s quietude lingers like sea salt on skin. By forgoing the book’s bombastic vows for a whisper-soft reunion, the show challenges us: Is love’s pinnacle the party, or the private promise? Fans, stunned into silence then sobs, seem split—half mourning the missed montage, half melted by the Seine’s magic. As one X user quipped, “That was one of the worst finales btw, took so long to get together. And no wedding, no dance. No book things.” Another countered, “IN THE HALLWAY???? IN THE CAR??????,” reveling in the unscripted heat.

In trading spectacle for sincerity, “At Last” mirrors life’s own imperfect closures. The beach house endures, a sentinel of summers past and—perhaps—future. Whether Han grants that filmic encore or not, one truth remains: Conrad and Belly’s story isn’t over because infinite love doesn’t fade with credits. It’s etched in every tear-streaked Paris night, every unspoken letter, every wave that crashes without apology. As the drone pulls back on Cousins, we’re left not with a bang, but a breath—stunned, emotional, and ready to rewind.