was no particular reason she had chosen the same stretch of sand where she had met Kenji.
She was not entirely convinced by her own explanation.
He was there.
This time, he had brought a small notebook and a book whose pages were marked with handwritten notes. When he saw her approaching, he raised his lemonade in greeting.
“I was beginning to suspect the ocean had frightened you away,” he said.
“I’m not that easy to frighten.”
“Excellent. The restaurant I recommended serves a dessert that would challenge your courage.”
They spent the afternoon walking along the shore, stopping occasionally to watch the waves or discuss whatever caught their attention.
Kenji told her stories about teaching physics to university students. Some had been brilliant. Others had fallen asleep during lectures despite sitting in the front row.
“One student once asked whether gravity could be considered a personal opinion,” he said.
