I didn’t know what to answer.
From the second day of my trip, I happened to meet a charming man named Michael.
He was about fifty years old and had also lost his wife. Despite our age difference, I remembered the promise I had made to myself: not giving up happiness again for fear of the past.
We chatted for coffee, had breakfast together, took a walk and then spent several wonderful days side by side.
For the first time in a long time, I was no longer lonely. I had the impression that I had finally found someone who understood me without many words.
Last night, Michael invited me to a cozy restaurant and told me with a mysterious smile that he had prepared a little surprise for me.
We had barely entered when a restaurant employee immediately recognized him and greeted him as a regular. I was surprised, because I had made sure I had never been to that establishment.
At that moment, his phone rang. He apologized, told me he’d be back in a few minutes and went out.
It was a few minutes, but I still didn’t come back.
A strange restlessness took over me. I decided to go find him and I moved on discreetly.
From the inner courtyard, I heard his voice. I wasn’t alone.
I took another step… and I was paralyzed with stupor…
At 67, I decided for the first time to date a man I had met abroad.
