I should have walked away. I knew what people would think. Gold digger. Daddy issues. Midlife crisis. Every ugly label society puts on relationships like ours.
But when she looked at me, I didn't feel sixty. I didn't feel like a widower, a retiree, a man past his prime. I felt seen.
So I stayed.
The first three months were a secret. We didn't go to restaurants in my neighborhood. Didn't post anything online. It felt like being a teenager again — sneaking around, stolen kisses, the thrill of something forbidden.
Then Elena came for a surprise visit.
She found us having breakfast on my patio. Amber in one of my shirts. The scene spoke for itself.
"Dad. What the hell is this?"
"Elena, let me explain—"