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After my wife died, I never expected to fall in love again, let alone with her much younger sister.
Elle's too young for me, though.
Too vibrant and cheerful to be saddled with a grumpy widower and two little kids.
Besides, she's only here for a few months before she moves on to follow her dreams.
And there's no way we could be together even if she were staying.
It doesn't seem to matter how often I remind myself of all the reasons why we can't, or shouldn't be together, my body won't listen.
Ever since Elle moved in, all I can think about is her. All I want is her.
She restored order to my home. She got my kids to smile and laugh again. Even I'm smiling more.
For the first time since my wife's death, I feel alive, hopeful.
I already said goodbye to my childhood sweetheart, my wife, and the mother of my children.
And I know I have to let Elle go; I'm just not sure if I can.
