Eva gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "He mentioned that flower in his letters. The Blue Gentian. He said it was the only thing that grew at the summit."
Aiden didn't believe in second chances, mostly because he’d spent the last decade making sure he didn't need them. As a restorer of rare books, his life was one of quiet precision—handling delicate spines and ancient parchment in a basement studio that smelled of cedar and history. He liked things that stayed exactly where he put them. Then Eva Alexander walked into his shop.
Aiden realized then that he wasn’t just restoring a book. He was helping Eva find her way home. And in the process, the quiet, dusty corners of his own life were beginning to feel a lot less like a sanctuary and a lot more like a cage. Aiden - Eva Alexander.epub
"I'm not finished yet," Aiden said, his voice rougher than usual. "There’s still a lot of story left to save."
Aiden looked down. The leather was water-damaged, the edges charred. "What happened?" Eva gasped, her hand flying to her mouth
She looked at Aiden, her eyes bright with more than just academic interest. In that moment, the distance between them—the workbench, the years of guarded silence, the difference in their worlds—seemed to vanish.
"Thank you, Aiden," she whispered, her fingers grazing his as she reached for the flower. He said it was the only thing that grew at the summit
"A fire," Eva said softly. "Followed by a very poorly timed sprinkler system. It belonged to my father. It’s the only record of the years he spent in the mountains before he met my mother. The ink is running, the pages are fused."