"That reminds me," Aaron said nonchalantly. "I'm going on a business trip this weekend. Would you like me to bring you back a souvenir?"

Keeley's eyes widened in shock. No one in either of her lives had ever offered to bring her a souvenir from anywhere.

"I really don't need anything," she insisted. "Please don't feel obligated. Where are you going?"

"Monaco. I'm looking to expand my business there."

Right. This was around the time Aaron had expanded overseas in her last life. They had already drifted apart by then, so she didn't even know where he was going on all those business trips.

She tried to place the name. "Isn't that the tiny country at the bottom of France, technically a city-state?"

"Yes. It's known for gambling and Grand Prix racing, but it's about to become a hub for investment bankers, and I want in."

There was the Aaron she knew: the shrewd businessman. He'd seemed so lackadaisical lately that she almost forgot he was still the vice president of one of the biggest companies in the country.

"That makes sense," she said, feeling out of her element. Her knowledge of the business world was purely superficial, even after attending all those events. Probably because she was always chatting with the wives, daughters, and girlfriends of the businessmen; they only cared about fashion and tropical vacations.

Aaron looked like he was about to speak, but his train of thought was interrupted. His face was blank as usual, but the temperature around him seemed to rise twenty degrees—like spring melting the snow.

"You're wearing my necklace."

She immediately clutched it, her cheeks burning. How had she forgotten she was wearing it? How embarrassing!

"It's pretty," she said lamely.

He smiled brightly, completely transforming his cold, angular features. Keeley had only seen him smile like that a handful of times, never in this life.

"I'm glad. You never wore any of my other presents."

Why did she feel guilty? He was the weirdo who kept throwing money away on someone he barely knew back then.

"I'm a simple person. That other stuff was too much," she explained.

"So, if I get you a souvenir that isn't 'too much,' you'll accept it?" he asked, with a hint of eagerness. Did he really want to get her a souvenir that badly?

"I'll accept, on the condition that you get me the most ridiculous thing you can find for under $20."

He smirked at the challenge. "Done!"

He considered her a friend—friends could buy each other things under twenty dollars. Hadn't she bought Valentina an "I Heart NYC" T-shirt for ten dollars from a street vendor in their freshman year because she thought it was funny?

Their entrees arrived, and Keeley dug into her steak with relish. This was exactly what she needed, and oddly enough, Aaron was the one who provided it. She never thought she'd see the day he could be a source of comfort instead of stress.

She thought about her father's advice: treat this Aaron and the Aaron from her previous life as different people. When he did things like this… she almost believed she could do it.

"Aaron?" she asked hesitantly.

He was chewing, so he could only manage a "Mm?"

"Why are you nice to me?"

He swallowed and frowned. "What kind of question is that?"

"I'm serious. I really don't understand."

By all accounts, it didn't make sense. Even disregarding the original Aaron's cruelty, she had been nasty to him from the beginning; he shouldn't care about her well-being.

Aaron set down his fork and looked at her seriously. "Why wouldn't I be nice to you?"

She could think of a million reasons, the least of which was that she was an ordinary woman, and he was Aaron freaking Hale—the Ice King! He cared about no one! Being nice to someone so insignificant was beneath him.

She shrugged, unable to voice her true thoughts.

He sighed. "You really think the worst of me, don't you? I'm nice to you because I want to be. Simple as that."

"But why would you want to be? I'm nobody."

"Not to me," Aaron said firmly. "Everybody is nobody but you."

It was oddly phrased, but she understood. Her heart skipped a beat. He meant she was the only one he considered a somebody—that she was important to him.

Keeley would have killed to hear those words twelve or thirteen years ago. Now, they made her want to cry. Why? Why was she important to this version of Aaron, but not the one she had loved?

Fate was cruel.

She looked down at her plate to hide the tears welling in her eyes. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

"Why?" she whispered.

"You make me happy," Aaron said simply. "Isn't that a good enough reason?"

He had said that before, but it hadn't been enough in the long run. She hadn't been enough. Unwanted tears rolled down her cheeks.

Oh, why couldn't she have forgotten her past life after high school? Without those memories, she might be able to accept his kindness more fully.

Too many "whys" haunted her: Why this Aaron liked her when her Aaron hadn't; why she had been reborn if she had to meet him again; why absolutely nothing made sense.

"Keeley? Are you alright?"

"No," she managed. She wiped her eyes desperately, but the tears kept coming. "I'd like to go home now."

"I'll call for the check." He signaled for the waiter and said nothing more.

Her eyes remained glued to her lap, so the waiter wouldn't see her crying. Pathetic. She hadn't cried about the actual bad parts of her day, so why was she crying now, when Aaron was being nice? The mention of the website was removed as it was an advertisement.