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After reading the letter, Anna sat in silence for a moment, the words lingering in her mind. She hadn’t expected this — not from Julian, not after all these years. A part of her was hesitant, unsure if she was ready to step back into his world of puzzles and intrigue. But another part of her, the part that had once been so drawn to his brilliance and his unyielding drive, felt a pull.

Julian, in her mind, was an absolute genius. His ideas had always been groundbreaking, often veering into realms of thought that others couldn't even begin to fathom. The thought of him reaching out like this, with such a bold and intriguing project, was shocking — and yet, it made perfect sense. It was the kind of thing Julian would do. His mind never rested, always searching for new puzzles to solve, new mysteries to uncover.

Anna felt a rush of excitement and curiosity. The prospect of reconnecting with him, of diving into something so intellectually stimulating, was too tempting to ignore. She’d love the chance to connect with him again — not just for the work, but for the person he had become.

......

Anna stood in front of the place, "Camphorwood," the logo hanging above the door casting a soft, inviting glow. A slight hesitation crept up on her as she gazed at the bistro’s familiar, dimly lit exterior. It looked almost untouched, like a relic from a past life. She could still recall the time spent here with Julian, their conversations ranging from scientific theories to philosophical debates, sometimes slipping into silence as they mulled over problems together.

Anna took a deep breath, pushing the door open. The familiar chime of the bell echoed as she stepped inside, the warm aroma of coffee and freshly baked bread immediately enveloping her. The interior of Camphorwood was just as she remembered — cozy, with its dark wooden floors and soft, ambient lighting that created an intimate, almost timeless atmosphere.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on him. Julian was seated in the corner, his back to the wall, a cup of coffee in front of him. The same quiet intensity that had always defined him was still present, but there was something different about him now. He wasn’t the disheveled, restless physicist anymore. Gone was the mad scientist look; instead, he wore a tailored jacket, a crisp shirt — elegant, composed. The sharpness of his gaze, though, remained unchanged.