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.”

I listened silently.

“One day, she found me sitting in the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten all day, and I hadn’t been taking my medication properly. I was in such poor condition that I had to be taken to the hospital.”

Sarah added quietly:

“My father was in a very difficult state back then. The doctors helped him recover, but for a long time afterward, we were afraid he would shut himself away again.”

I was beginning to understand why Sarah was so worried.

But I still didn’t understand why they had been deceiving me.

“And what does any of this have to do with me?”

David raised his head.

“Because after that, I decided I would never fall in love again.”

I was confused.

“What?”

“When you lose someone you’ve spent almost your entire life with, you feel as though you could never survive that kind of pain a second time. I convinced myself that it was better to live alone than to risk losing someone I loved again.”