I WENT back to the hotel, not feeling too confident that she would show up that evening, but I dressed and went down to the restaurant, waiting with hope. My flight was early the next morning, and I didn’t want to leave without seeing her again. Since talking to her at the gift shop, I had felt a new and unique feeling within me, but also a niggling fear that the age difference might deter her from wanting to have a relationship with me.

I went to the bar for a drink to calm the anxiety in my mind, and on my second drink, ten minutes after eight, she walked in. She looked quite stunning, though in a simple way, in a little blue dress. I left the bar to meet her and said, “Simply beautiful.”

“Thanks.” She smiled a little nervously.

After being seated, I said in a low, casual tone, “I was a little fearful that you might not show up.”

She sighed. “I’m here, but I’m still not sure about this.”

“This is a good start,” I said with an encouraging smile, “to hopefully better things.”

Dinner was a nice affair, and we got to know each other a little more. She owned the little gift shop, worked closely with a charitable organisation, and lived a quiet life with her young adult son studying overseas and her teenage daughter living with her. She said nothing of her divorce, for it would most likely bring back painful memories. I did not have much to say about myself, except that I was from a loving family, travelled regularly because of my job, played badminton, enjoyed car racing and lived in a condo in New York.

She summed it up in three words: “An eligible bachelor.”

“Something like that.” I laughed a little.

I loved her simplicity, her smile and melodic laughter, and I asked her, after we had finished dinner and were at the bar for a few drinks, “So, can we continue to see each other?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, sipping her cocktail, then said, “Maybe.”

“Well,” I said, finishing my scotch, “that sounds promising.”

There was silence for a moment as she seemed to be contemplating something. Then she asked in a slightly serious tone, “Tell me, how does a handsome young man like yourself, with your lifestyle and who I’m sure has dated pretty girls, find interest in an older woman?”

I signalled the bartender for another drink, took a deep breath and answered her. “I don’t know how to describe it, but what I do know in my heart is that I wanted a beautiful love story that was uniquely different.”

She looked at me with a little spark of interest in her eyes that had not been there before, and I continued, “Everywhere I went, I looked for her, but nowhere did I find her until I saw you.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment, trying to understand, maybe, how something like this could happen. Then she voiced, “It’s so incredible. I don’t know what to say.”

“Just follow your heart.”

We sat there for a long time, she not saying much and I sipping my scotch, just relaxing in each other’s company until she said she had to go. I walked with her to the lobby and said, “Thanks for showing up. The time spent was special.”

She smiled and nodded. “It was nice.”

The valet brought her car around, and though I felt like I didn’t want her to go, I said, “I will see you again soon.”

She didn’t answer, but her smile gave me hope.

On the flight home, I reflected upon the time between seeing her at the traffic light and saying ‘goodnight’ in the hotel lobby. I knew she would have voiced doubts about having a relationship with me because of our age difference, but I had found her after such a long time, and I was not going to lose her.

I returned to work, staying connected to her by sharing pictures and videos of places I visited and people I met. She was somewhat thrilled about it all, and through the internet, a new friendship began to develop.

Three months passed, and on a five-day break, I flew back to Guyana. I did not tell her, wanting to surprise her, and when I walked into the gift shop, her eyes lit up.

“Hey, you’re back.”

“Yep, on a short break.”

I wanted to ask her if she was happy to see me, but I didn’t, just wanting to give her time to express her feelings. She had a business meeting with the charitable organisation, and I had two business meetings during the day that I had postponed the last time I was there. But dinner was reserved for her, as she was the reason I came back.

As we sat down to dinner, I said to her, “Those three months seemed like three years while I waited for a few days’ break to come back and see you.”

She smiled but said nothing, and I waited for the few words I wanted to hear her say.

The menu came, we ordered, the wine was poured and, lifting her glass just a little, she said, “It’s nice seeing you again.”

I lifted my glass and said, with a pleased feeling in my heart, “Those words mean so much to me.”

I felt quite happy that she was slowly beginning to accept me, but that didn’t last for long. An older guy walked up to our table and greeted her, “Hey, honey.”

She looked surprised, then upset, as the man stood there with a smirk.

“What are you doing?” she asked quietly.

“Greeting my wife,” he stated, with a quick, daring glance at me.

“Ex-wife,” she corrected him.

He turned to look at me and said, “He looks quite young.”

He left before she could respond. She was so upset that I had to touch her hand and say to her, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. Stay calm.”

It was a good while before she relaxed, and I asked, “Does he do that all the time?”

She shook her head. “No. Since the divorce, I have not dated anyone until now.”

I did not realise then how good that sounded for me because I was concerned for her.

“I guess he still thinks he has a hold over you.”

She sighed. “It’s because I’ve been patient and tolerant of his behaviour because of my daughter’s close bond with him.”

I noticed the glint of helplessness in her eyes, and I knew she needed strength to stand against his narcissistic attitude. I touched her hand again and said, “You need to be strong and stand your ground against that control he’s unjustly wielding over you.”

She shook her head a little. “I’m not sure how…”

“I can be your strength,” I interrupted her, “if you want me to.”

She looked at me for a long moment, uncertainty in her eyes. Then she said, a little deflated, “He already remarked that you’re young, which I’m sure will be held against me, and added to that will be the burden of a divorced, older woman, two young adult children and an obsessive ex-husband. Won’t that be too heavy for you?”

“No,” I answered confidently. “Just give me the chance to help you regain control of your life so you can be happy.”

The warm smile that I loved to see returned, and she expressed, “I never thought I would meet someone like you.”

And so began a close relationship, uniquely different.