At 67, my first holiday took me to Malta, and I decided to say "yes" to every opportunity. Love resurfaced: he left the table for a moment last night at dinner, and I chose to pursue him.

Trois mois plus tard, David a pris l’avion pour venir me voir.

Il a séjourné à l'hôtel.

Rebecca l’a rencontré avant moi.

Elle l’a interrogé comme un détective.

Il est tout de suite tombé sous son charme.

I didn't trust him right away.

Confidence gradually returned.

He told me when he was scared.

I used to tell him when I was angry.

We stopped protecting each other from inconvenient truths.

A year later, I returned to Malta.

David was waiting for me at the airport.

This time, he didn't pretend that our meeting was a coincidence.

He was holding a sign that read:

ELEANOR, 68 YEARS OLD. ARE YOU STILL SAYING YES?

I laughed.

Then I modified the sign with a pen I took out of my purse.

SOMETIMES.

David read it and smiled.

"That's better."

Last night, we ate at the same restaurant in the port.

The waiter greeted David by his first name.

I wasn't afraid.

Clara joined us for dessert.

Before leaving, David took me into the courtyard.

For a second, I remembered hearing him speak over there.

"No surprises," he said.

" GOOD. "

"No secret plans."

"Even better."

"I'd like to spend all the time we have left going back and forth between your place and mine."

I watched it.

"Is this a marriage proposal?"

"That's a question."

That difference mattered.

I said yes.

Not because I had promised to say yes to everything.

This promise was that of a frightened woman who believed that courage meant never refusing an experience.

I know better than that now.

Sometimes, courage means stepping out of the courtyard.

Sometimes it's getting on a plane.

Sometimes, it's about making a man deserve the right to ask you again.