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 on Our Final Evening, I Overheard a Woman Saying, “You Can’t Keep Deceiving Her. She’s Going Home Tomorrow, and You Still Don’t Know How You’re Going to Get Rid of Her.”

Three days later, I bought a plane ticket to the Portuguese island of Madeira.

On my second day there, while I was lost in one of the narrow streets, a man approached me.

“Ma’am, it looks like you could use some help.”

He was 72 years old. His name was David.

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

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

We had coffee together.

The next day, he invited me to breakfast.

And that was how a week that would change my life began.

Every morning, David waited for me outside my hotel. We walked together, laughed, and spent hours talking by the ocean.

Sometimes, he held my hand.

At first, I felt embarrassed. After forty-two years of  marriage, it felt strange to have feelings for another man.

But with each passing day, I grew more attached to him.