At 67, I took my first solo trip to Malta and promised to say yes to everything. Then I followed the man I was falling for — and overheard why meeting me was never an accident.
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I took one more step toward the courtyard.
David stood under a string of yellow lights with his back to me.
Across from him was a woman in her 40s.
She had his gray-blue eyes.
"You have to tell her tonight," the woman said.
"I know."
"You should have told her the moment you recognized her."
My hand tightened around the stone doorway.
Recognized me?
David lowered his voice.
"I didn't expect to fall in love with her."
The woman folded her arms.
"That doesn't make the lie smaller."
I stopped breathing.
David looked toward the restaurant.
"She leaves tomorrow."
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"Exactly."
"If I tell her now, she'll think every moment between us was planned."
"Wasn't it?"
He did not answer.
That silence told me more than any confession could have.
I stepped into the courtyard.
"Planned?"
David turned.
The color left his face.
"Eleanor."
The woman closed her eyes.
For one terrible second, none of us moved.
Then I looked at David.
"Who is she?"
"My daughter. Clara."
Clara gave me a small, unhappy smile.
"I'm sorry we met this way."
I barely heard her.
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My chest felt tight.
"What did you recognize me from?"
David took a step closer.
I moved back.
"Don't."
He stopped immediately.
The restaurant noise drifted through the open kitchen door behind us. Glasses clinking, People laughing, and a waiter calling for another bottle of wine.
Five minutes earlier, I had been sitting at a table overlooking the harbor, believing I had found something I thought life had taken from me forever. Now I was standing in a courtyard with a man who had admitted our meeting was not an accident.
"Tell me the truth," I said.
David glanced at Clara.
She shook her head.
"No more help from me, Dad. You tell her."
He looked older than he had that morning.
Not 70, ancient.
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"My wife knew your husband."
I stared at him.
"What?"
"Ruth knew Michael."
The sound of my husband's name in David's voice made my stomach drop.
Michael had been dead for four years.
We had been married for 39.
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