Two weeks before finals, Keeley felt overwhelmed. Jennica bombarded her with texts, seeking advice on wedding flowers—the latest crisis—and honeymoon destinations. Jennica was agonizing over Gerber daisies versus tulips for her orange flowers, and mums versus roses for the hot pink ones. How was Keeley supposed to know?

As for the honeymoon, Keeley only knew about the Caribbean, but Jennica wanted somewhere without a beach, a place to "explore the culture," but somewhere Cameron hadn't already visited a dozen times. Keeley had no opinion. She wished Jennica would stop asking!

The wedding invitation hung on the refrigerator next to an engagement photo of Lydia and her new husband. It was that time of life: the marriage apocalypse—the dread of every unattached person. Valentina's medical school friend's wedding invitation also adorned the fridge.

Jennica and Cameron looked blissfully happy in their engagement photo. Keeley was happy for her friend, truly, but did they have to be so obnoxiously in love right in front of her, while she still dealt with her ex-husband?

Exhausted, Keeley broke down crying when her ancient laptop unexpectedly shut down, erasing three pages of a paper. That was it. She was done.

She decided to call in sick to work, watch a movie, and then rewrite the paper. But her laptop refused to turn on. She texted Valentina, asking to borrow her laptop, but Valentina was out and wouldn't be home until 10 p.m.—too late; the paper was due at midnight. Keeley felt doomed.

At home, curled up under a blanket watching an animated Disney movie with Molly, she remembered to text Aaron not to send her food that day.

"Are you sick?"

"No, just sulking." She knew he'd ask why, so she elaborated: "My laptop died, and I lost two and a half hours of work on a paper due at midnight."

"Why didn't you save it?"

"It's not about saving; my computer is dead. Everything's gone, not just the paper."

"I might be able to fix this. I get off work in two hours; have your laptop ready, and make sure you're not wearing pajamas."

Why did her pajamas matter? Was he planning to take her somewhere?

It was as if a weight lifted. Aaron was wealthy. He probably knew a good electronics repair shop she couldn't afford. She might actually finish the paper on time!

Tension eased as she sank back into the couch. She might even enjoy the movie, knowing help was on the way.

A movie and a half later, the doorbell rang. Keeley changed back into her school clothes before answering. Aaron stood on her doorstep in one of his signature designer suits, and her breath caught. This was how she best remembered him.

"Do you have it?" he asked.

She nodded meekly, the laptop tucked under her arm. She followed him to his car, sniffling; her nose was stuffed from crying.

"Relax. It'll be okay."

"No, it's not," she sighed wearily. "I'm doomed."

"Can't you ask for an extension? You're surely not the only one this has happened to."

"My professor has no mercy. He'd only berate me for not taking better care of my things."

Aaron made a sound of acknowledgement, then fell silent for the rest of the ride. Surprisingly, he pulled into the parking lot of a chain electronics store in the Bronx.

Noticing her expression, his stoic face softened slightly. "They do data recovery here. I called Aiden—he's out of the country, but he has a friend who works here and agreed to help without an appointment."

Tears welled up. She was saved. "Thank you."

"Let's see if we can get your paper back before you thank me."

She shook her head. "Even if not…you tried. I really appreciate it."

A small smile appeared. "It's the least I could do."

They entered the store, and Aaron asked for David, a pudgy young man with braces who immediately ushered them to his workstation and requested the laptop.

Keeley offered it as if it were a wounded animal. "Can you save it?"

"Let me look. Give me about ten minutes."

They sat quietly in the waiting area. Keeley fidgeted. This paper was worth about a tenth of her grade. Failure to submit it would drop her grade significantly.

Aaron hesitantly patted her shoulder. Too anxious to protest, she found the comfort oddly nice.

David returned with a smile. "Good news: I can temporarily restore your system to transfer files to an external drive. Bad news: it'll cost about three hundred dollars, and you seriously need a new laptop. This one could crash again anytime."

Before Keeley could speak, Aaron said, "No problem. How long?"

"About forty-five minutes."

Relief made Keeley blubber. "Thank you so much! You saved my life!"

He laughed. "No problem. I'm glad it's not beyond repair. This is time-sensitive, right?"

She nodded emphatically. "A paper due at midnight, only half-written."

"Okay, I'll get started. While you wait, look at our laptop models. We offer payment plans."

Her spirits sank. She couldn't afford a new laptop, even with a payment plan.

(The final promotional sentence was removed as it was unrelated to the story's text.)