As the sun-kissed shores of Cousins Beach prepare for one last, blistering hurrah, fans of The Summer I Turned Pretty are buzzing with anticipation. The third and final season of Jenny Han’s beloved adaptation exploded onto Prime Video screens this past July, delivering a whirlwind of romance, regret, and revelations that have left viewers gasping. But amid the sunsets and secrets, one bombshell stands tallest: Conrad Fisher, the brooding heartthrob who’s haunted our dreams since episode one, has evolved into something utterly irresistible – a devoted father. Yes, you read that right. The once-tormented college dropout, played with smoldering intensity by Christopher Briney, is now cradling a child of his own, his rugged features softened by paternal pride, making him sexier than ever. In a series defined by love triangles and lost summers, this twist isn’t just a plot pivot; it’s a seismic shift that could redefine redemption, rekindle forbidden fires, and leave Belly Conklin’s heart in tatters once more.
Flash back to the sun-drenched chaos of seasons past. Isabel “Belly” Conklin (Lola Tung), the girl who literally turned pretty one fateful summer, has spent years entangled in the magnetic pull between the Fisher brothers. Jeremiah (Gavin Casalegno), the golden-boy charmer, has been her steady anchor – her soulmate, her future. Their college romance, blooming amid late-night study sessions and stolen kisses, seemed unbreakable as season three opens. Belly’s junior year wraps with dreams of lazy Cousins days, wedding whispers, and a life scripted in soft-focus bliss. But then, like a rogue wave crashing the shore, Conrad crashes back in. No longer the aimless wanderer who ghosted her at the altar in season two, he’s transformed. Whispers from the set – fueled by teaser trailers dripping with tension – reveal Conrad’s new chapter: fatherhood. A surprise bundle of joy, conceived in the hazy aftermath of his post-breakup soul-searching, has him stepping up in ways no one saw coming. Picture it: Conrad, sleeves rolled up, trading surfboards for strollers, his signature tousled hair now framing eyes that hold a depth of quiet strength. Fans are swooning; social media is ablaze with edits splicing his brooding stares with baby-filtered glowups. “Conrad as a dad? I’m done,” one viewer tweeted, capturing the collective meltdown.
This isn’t mere fan service – it’s a deliberate evolution drawn from the emotional core of Han’s trilogy, We’ll Always Have Summer. In the books, Conrad’s arc grapples with maturity’s sharp edges, forcing him to confront the man he wants to be beyond the beach house shadows. The show amps it up, layering in visual poetry: sunlit playdates on the sand where Conrad’s laughter – rare and real – mingles with waves lapping at tiny toes. Briney’s performance elevates it further; his Conrad isn’t just hot-dad eye candy. There’s vulnerability here, a man wrestling with legacy after losing his mother Susannah to cancer, now building one of his own. “Fatherhood changes everything,” Briney hinted in a recent interview, his voice laced with the same husky timbre that makes fans weak. “Conrad’s always been the protector – of Belly, of his family. Now, he’s got this tiny human who needs him whole.” And whole he is: sharper jawline from skipped meals turned purposeful gym sessions, a wardrobe upgrade from faded tees to fitted button-downs that hug his frame just right. It’s the kind of glowup that screams “I’ve leveled up,” turning the series’ eternal question – Team Conrad or Team Jeremiah? – into a powder keg.
For Belly, the timing couldn’t be crueler. Engaged to Jeremiah and knee-deep in wedding fever, she’s forced to navigate a reunion that dredges up every “what if.” The season’s early episodes tease charged encounters: a backyard barbecue where Conrad’s arm brushes hers while chasing a toddler, sparks flying amid the grill smoke; a midnight beach walk where confessions spill like spilled champagne. “He’s not the boy I left behind,” Belly confides to her bestie Taylor (Rain Spencer), now a sharp PR whiz trading deb balls for boardrooms. But is that a relief or a reckoning? Jeremiah, sensing the shift, grapples with his own insecurities – his easy smiles cracking under the weight of Conrad’s newfound stability. The brothers’ rift, already raw from Susannah’s memorial garden ceremony, deepens into something primal: not just rivalry over Belly, but over who gets to claim the Fisher legacy.
Beyond the central storm, the ensemble shines brighter than a Cousins bonfire. Steven (Sean Kaufman) stumbles through post-grad haze, his office drudgery clashing hilariously with beach-house nostalgia. Laurel (Jackie Chung), Belly’s no-nonsense mom, explores tentative romance, her guarded heart cracking open in ways that mirror her daughter’s turmoil. New faces like Kristen Connolly as Taylor’s glamorous mom add layers of intrigue, while returning vets like Kyra Sedgwick’s Julia stir family ghosts. The soundtrack – a masterclass in nostalgic pop from Taylor Swift to Sabrina Carpenter – pulses with the ache of summers slipping away, each track a gut-punch reminder that this is it: the end of an era.
As episodes unspool weekly through September’s finale, The Summer I Turned Pretty isn’t just wrapping a trilogy; it’s torching expectations. Conrad’s dad era isn’t a side plot – it’s the catalyst, forcing every character to choose growth over ghosts. Will Belly chase the sun she’s always orbited, risking Jeremiah’s light? Or does fatherhood finally free Conrad to let her go? In Cousins Beach, where hearts break as easily as waves, one thing’s certain: this summer won’t fade quietly. It’s a blaze of what-could-have-beens, proving that sometimes, the prettiest turn comes when you least expect it. Grab your popcorn – the explosion is just beginning.