At 69, I went on vacation alone and fell in love with a 72-year-old man. For seven days I felt like the happiest woman in the world. But our last night I heard a woman say, “You can’t fool her anymore. He's coming home tomorrow and you still don't know how you're going to get rid of her."

During my second day there, as I walked lost through one of its narrow streets, a man approached me.

“Ma’am, it seems you need a little help.

He was 72 years old. His name was David.

He had silver hair, kind eyes and a voice so pleasant that I immediately felt comfortable beside him.

He told me that he was a widower and that he lived in Boston.

We had a coffee together.

The next day, he invited me to breakfast.

And so began a week that would change my life forever.

Every morning, David was waiting for me in front of my hotel. We walked together, laughed and spent hours talking by the ocean.

Sometimes I would hold my hand.

At first I was ashamed. After forty-two years of marriage, it was strange to feel something for another man again.

But with every passing day, I was more fond of him.