Maya couldn't stop thinking about Adrian Vale.
She tried to focus as she dusted the shelves of The Turning Page, the familiar scent of old paper and leather-bound spines grounding her, but her mind kept drifting back to his eyes—dark and thoughtful, with that rare, fleeting moment of vulnerability. He wasn't what she'd expected, and that only made him more intriguing.
As she moved to the counter, she saw it—the book.
It sat in the exact spot where she'd found the envelope that morning, an old, worn hardcover resting on a pristine layer of white paper. Maya picked it up, flipping it open with tentative fingers.
Wuthering Heights.
She frowned. "Seriously?" she muttered to herself. Of all the books in the world, why this one?
But then, as her eyes skimmed the first few pages, something unexpected happened. She felt a strange connection to it, as if the pages themselves were whispering truths she hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge.
The words were like a mirror—dark, passionate, and full of longing. She could almost hear the echoes of her own thoughts as she read, the same isolation, the same longing for something she couldn't name.
Adrian had picked this book for her. It wasn't just a random choice—it felt deliberate, like he understood something about her that she hadn't even realized yet.
Maya leaned against the counter, the book still in her hands. What was it about him that made her feel this way? She wasn't the type to be swept away by a stranger, especially not someone as complicated as Adrian Vale. But there was something magnetic about him, something that tugged at her in a way she couldn't explain.
As she closed the book, the doorbell jingled, signaling the arrival of a customer. Maya quickly tucked Wuthering Heights behind the counter and forced a smile.
"Good morning," she said, looking up.
The man standing in the doorway was older, probably in his sixties, with round glasses perched on the edge of his nose. "Morning, miss. I'm looking for a gift for my granddaughter."
"Of course," Maya said, her professional smile in place. She guided him to the children's section and helped him pick out a book about fairy tales. As he paid and left, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed.
That Adrian had somehow left a mark on her. One she couldn't quite erase.
---
The day passed in a haze of customers and shelving books, but Maya found it difficult to focus. Her mind kept wandering back to Adrian. To the look in his eyes, the strange sadness he carried with him. She couldn't help but wonder what lay behind the walls he'd so carefully built around himself.
Around six in the evening, just as she was preparing to close up for the night, the door opened again.
This time, it was him.
Adrian stood in the doorway, drenched from the rain that had returned with a vengeance. His hair was soaked, and his coat clung to his frame, but there was something about the way he stood there—calm, composed, as if this was the most natural place in the world for him to be—that made her heart skip.
"Adrian?" she said, her voice coming out a little more surprised than she'd intended.
He smiled, though it was tinged with something uncertain. "I wasn't sure if you'd be here."
"Did you... expect me to be?" she asked, unable to hide the curiosity in her voice.
He hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside. "I wanted to apologize. For yesterday, for the way I left things. It wasn't fair to you."
Maya blinked. "You don't owe me an apology."
"I do," he said softly, stepping closer. "I don't want to leave things unfinished between us."
Her heart hammered in her chest. She had to remind herself that he was Adrian Vale—the kind of man who could have any woman he wanted, who could easily walk away without a second thought. And yet here he was, standing in front of her, looking like he was torn between the person he was expected to be and the person he wanted to be.
Before she could speak, Adrian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. "I've been thinking about what you said—about not trusting easily. I get it. But I'd like the chance to prove that I'm not like the rest of them."
Maya took the paper from him, glancing down at the neat handwriting.
Dinner. Tomorrow night. 7 PM. Just the two of us.
Her pulse quickened. She should've said no. She should've turned him down flat. But something about the quiet sincerity in his eyes made it impossible to refuse.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
"I know. But I think you deserve more than just silence. More than just a chance to run away from things."
Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at him. He was so different from what she had imagined. Adrian Vale wasn't just a billionaire heir with a polished exterior. He was a man who was, despite everything, searching for something real. Something that wasn't tied to wealth or status.
For the first time in a long time, Maya considered taking a step forward instead of retreating.
She swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the decision in her chest. "I'll think about it."
Adrian's gaze softened, as though he had expected nothing less. "Take your time. But I'll be waiting."
And just like that, he was gone again, leaving Maya with the echo of his words and the strange, unsettling feeling that she had just agreed to something that could change everything.
---
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Maya couldn't focus on anything, the pages of Wuthering Heights forgotten on the counter. What was she doing? She didn't belong in his world. And yet...
Maybe for once, she didn't need to belong. Maybe she just needed to be herself.