I spent my life building a quiet, modest life—just me, my daughter, and the everyday chaos of single motherhood. Her father left when she was three, and I didn’t have time to grieve—only time to work, cook, survive.
She grew up, moved away, got married. I was proud but left in the silence she used to fill. One day, my best friend Rosemary barged in with her usual flair and convinced me to try online dating.
That’s how I found Andreas. Or rather, how he found me. A gentle man from Greece who messaged first. We talked about gardens, bread, and salt by the sea. Then came the invitation—to visit him in Paros.
At first, I was hesitant. Then the messages disappeared. His account was gone. But I still had his address. I made a bold choice.
I flew to Greece.
But when I arrived at his home, Rosemary answered the door.
She had impersonated me—taken my online account, deleted my messages, and flown ahead, hoping to claim the connection for herself.
At dinner, I calmly exposed her lies. Andreas saw the truth. Rosemary stormed out in fury.
He turned to me and said, “Stay for a week.”
I stayed. And then I stayed longer.
We picked olives, baked bread, walked in silence, and slowly, without drama or pretense—I found something I hadn’t had in years:
Peace.
And maybe… love.
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