On the morning of Keeley's 25th birthday, she had a headache. Aaron texted a birthday greeting and wished her luck on her finals; she replied with a simple "thank you." She was surprised he didn't prolong the conversation, assuming he was busy.

She couldn't help comparing this birthday to her last. Last year, her father had taken her to dinner and bought her a cake—a stark contrast to Aaron's lack of effort. She'd excused his absence with a lie: he was away on business and would celebrate later.

It was a lie, of course. He hadn't gone anywhere; he simply didn't care about her birthday. To maintain appearances, he'd given her expensive jewelry—a display for other socialites—along with a cold "happy birthday" in the hallway. Knowing this was a performance for the "spies" in their house, reporting back to his father, didn't ease her pain. Her previous birthdays in that life had been miserable, leaving her feeling abandoned and unloved.

Despite her headache, her first final wasn't too difficult. She took a Tylenol halfway through, as the pain worsened, and finished the test once the medication took effect. She then studied for her next exam until her mind felt like mush. Just as she needed a break, her father texted, letting her know he was in the parking lot near the medical school. She gathered her things and happily went to meet him.

"Happy birthday, honeybun!" Robert exclaimed, a wide smile on his face as she got into the car.

"Thanks, Dad. I was about to lose my mind studying; your timing is impeccable," she replied.

"Must be good birthday luck," he said.

Keeley didn't believe in such luck. Many of her birthdays had been terrible, the worst being the one where she was drugged.

They drove to a pleasant Italian restaurant. She protested the price, but he insisted, saying it wasn't every day his baby turned 25. He must have been thinking of Kaleb, who would never celebrate his own 25th birthday.

'I wish you were here, Kal,' she thought wistfully. 'Mom too.'

The Halls might not have been able to afford appetizers, but the complimentary garlic bread was more than enough. Keeley ate four pieces before the entrees arrived, nearly stuffing herself. She relaxed and enjoyed herself, feeling better simply by being with her only family. Her dad had such a calming presence.

"So, are you doing anything fun with friends? I know you have work tonight," he asked.

"We're celebrating this weekend. They're taking me to see that new superhero movie," she replied.

"That's fun. Who are 'they'?"

"Ryan, Valentina, and Jennica. Her fiancé was supposed to come, but he's on a business trip." Jennica had complained about his absence during crucial wedding planning, but Cameron had no choice.

"Aaron's not going?"

Keeley nearly choked on her garlic bread. Tears welled up as she managed a frantic, "What?!"

Once she'd cleared her throat, she calmly asked, "Why would he be hanging out with my friends?"

"You guys seem pretty close these days. He spent Christmas Eve with us," Robert pointed out.

Her father knew nothing of recent events. He didn't know they were no longer friends.

"Aaron wouldn't hang out with my friends," she said honestly. It wasn't the main reason, but he'd never done so before. She always spent time with his associates or alone with him. "He prefers one-on-one; he doesn't like groups."

"What did he get you for your birthday?"

Hang on—who said anything about a present? He had given her one, but that wasn't the point.

She answered reluctantly, "A new laptop. A few weeks ago, because mine broke down. He said it was an early birthday present."

Robert smiled. "That's awfully nice of him." She couldn't deny it; it was.

Talking about Aaron reminded her of something. "Hey, Dad, why didn't you ever tell me he found me when I was drugged on my eighteenth birthday?"

His eyes widened. "He told you?"

"I figured it out."

"Well, I promised him I wouldn't. He was so upsethe refused to leave until the doctors said you were alright. I'm pretty sure he didn't want you to hate him more than you already did."

Keeley was stunned. In high school, she'd openly disliked him. Knowing he'd found her vulnerable, he must have known she wouldn't want him to see her that way. He could have used it against her, but instead, he'd backed off, leaving her alone until she contacted him at graduation.

Her heart ached. Even then, he'd been considerate. She'd never known.

Her father had always urged her to be nice to Aaron since that day. Was it because he'd seen how much Aaron cared when he dropped her off at the hospital? Was he truly that worried?

It didn't matter. It was the same reason he worried about her eating and sleeping properly now. She shouldn't let this new information change her.

"Interesting," she finally said.

Their food arrived, sparing her further discussion. She ate hastily, though her appetite had vanished.