question everyone else had apparently been too polite to say aloud.
“Girl, is he rich-rich?”
The room erupted in awkward laughter, but Yuki didn’t laugh. She had expected questions about money, inheritance, loneliness, and whether she had lost her mind. What she hadn’t expected was how quickly people she had known for years would dismiss her feelings simply because the man she loved did not fit their expectations.
Kenji was not a wealthy businessman, a famous celebrity, or a powerful politician. He was a retired physics professor with silver hair, a slightly crooked smile, and a peculiar sense of humor that could make an ordinary conversation feel like an adventure.
He owned a modest home, kept too many books, and had a habit of explaining everyday problems as though they were complicated scientific experiments. He could spend ten minutes discussing why a pancake turned out unevenly, only to conclude that
