“Hello,” I speak, realizing that he certainly knows me.

“Jonathan.” He seems to read my mind. “From the dance classes at the community center.”

“Oh.” My best response in a while.

“You scared everyone in the studio with your accident. Glad that nothing serious happened. I was very worried about you.”

I notice the tribal tattoos on his right arm but try not to stare. I focus on the ground as he chatters beside me while I walk onwards.

“How often did we meet up?”

He gets confused and thinks about it. “When you took stiletto class and almost every day here on the beach to run,” he reports to...