Keeley arrived home from a long day in the lab, exhausted. A contaminated sample had forced her to scrap an entire trial, delaying her research by at least two weeks.

Outside her door, she ran into Aiden, who looked concerned. "Rough day?" he asked.

"Yeah," she sighed. "A lab accident totally messed up my research project. I have to redo a trial."

"Yikes. I'm sorry. Wait a minute; I have some Swedish chocolate I can give you. My girlfriend introduced it to me a couple of months ago, and it's pretty good," he offered cheerfully.

She smiled. That was kind. "Sure, I'd love to try some. Thanks, Aiden!"

"Be right back!" He quickly returned with an unfamiliar chocolate bar. "This is a Marabou milk chocolate bar; it's the best."

"You get extra cookies this Christmas," she promised. He did a small fist pump, making her laugh.

"Hope your research goes better tomorrow! See ya," he said, closing his apartment door.

Keeley always thought he was a nice kid. She hoped his girlfriend appreciated him. She contrasted this with Aaron; a thought made her hand falter on her doorknob. That wasn't true. Hadn't he bought her ridiculously expensive chocolate when she cried at school? She'd almost forgotten.

Most of her memories of Aaron were from her first life. He had done many kind things for her since her rebirth: the chocolate, the DNA necklace, caring for her when she was sick, bringing her food.

In her room, she gently lifted Molly (presumably a pet) from her jewelry box and retrieved the necklace. She hadn't worn it since being drugged, but couldn't bear to discard it. Feeling a sudden urge, she put it on and clenched the tiny double helix.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Aaron. His timing was uncanny. 'I had a feeling I needed to check on you. Are you okay?'

He'd sent similar texts for months, so she replied honestly: 'You're psychic. Today pretty much sucked.'

'What happened?'

Keeley detailed the lab mishap and its consequences.

'This guy replies ridiculously fast,' she thought as another text arrived almost instantly. 'That does suck, I'm sorry. Do you need a pick-me-up?'

Did she? She had the chocolate, but she was tired and sad and didn't want to see anyone, especially him, but… 'To be perfectly honest, I could use a steak. And some ice cream.'

'In this weather?'

'It doesn't matter if it's inside.'

'Fair enough. I'll be by your place in half an hour.'

Keeley cursed herself for wanting to be taken care of. It was freezing, and she was too tired to walk to her fake apartment building. It was time to confess.

She texted her real building address (omitting the apartment number), planning to meet him downstairs. He didn't respond, so she couldn't tell if he was judging her. Oh well; he was bringing food.

She lay on her bed, questioning herself, until his arrival text. Sighing, she put on her coat and beanie and went downstairs.

Aaron waited at the curb, window down, his license plate (AKH8810) recognizable.

"Hi," she said tiredly, leaning her head against the headrest.

"Hey. Do you have a place in mind…?"

"You pick. I bet expensive steak tastes better."

A faint laugh came from him. She opened an eye; his expression was stoic.

"I know a good place. There's even an old-fashioned ice cream parlor nearby."

He could be surprisingly dependable. He'd said to come to him if she needed anything—those weren't empty words. He seemed oddly sincere lately.

The car ride was silent; Keeley was too weary. He didn't speak until they were seated in an uptown steakhouse she'd frequented in her first life.

"So…appetizer?"

She nodded; the crab cakes were amazing.

"Drink?"

Another nod. She couldn't speak until she ate.

Aaron ordered Cabernet Sauvignon and crab cakes for her, a mutton chop for himself, and a medium-rare filet mignon for her—her favorite cut. Good guess, or the most expensive option?

"Today must have really worn you out," Aaron observed.

Keeley groaned.

After devouring two crab cakes, she said, "I needed fuel."

He smirked, eyes soft. "Apparently. You look livelier. What was so bad about the accident? Did your mentor scold you?"

"Yes, but I'm more upset about missing deadlines. My grades will drop, and I'll probably get yelled at again."

"Your mentor seems strict."

She sighed. Dr. Kim was strict but fair. This was Keeley's mistake.

"She isn't bad; she takes her job seriously, and expects me to do the same."

Aaron was unusually sympathetic. "Accidents happen. I've rarely met anyone who takes their job more seriously than you, and I deal with businessmen constantly."

Keeley knew he was trying to comfort her, but it worked. Aaron cheering her up? Unheard of!

(The final promotional line was removed as it is unrelated to the text cleanup.)