Aaron looked distinctly uncomfortable, avoiding her gaze.

"I didn't want you to see how stupid I look," he admitted. "I thought you'd laugh at me."

Keeley was slightly offended. "Forget that," she said. "What happened to you?"

His discomfort intensified; he shifted in his seat. The almighty business icon, Aaron Hale, never behaved like this. Her curiosity gnawed at her—this had to be quite a story to elicit such embarrassment from him. He never got embarrassed.

"…a paintball broke my goggles."

That was completely unexpected. She was taken aback.

"What?"

"Cameron wanted to go paintballing for his bachelor party, and my stupid goggles were faulty. I got shot directly in the face," he said icily, crossing his arms.

Normally, this posture would look intimidating, but now it gave him the aura of a petulant child. No wonder he thought she'd laugh. She was tempted.

Reining herself in, she bit her lip and asked if it hurt. He nodded. "It was more swollen yesterday, but somehow it hurts more today."

"Do you want me to get you some ice?"

"I already put some on before I came. I'm supposed to do it every hour, but I think I can wait until rehearsal is over."

She stood on tiptoe for a closer look. It really did look terrible. And he'd be immortalized in the wedding photos like that. What luck!

Aaron sighed. "Do you have to gawk at me when I look the least attractive I've ever looked in my entire life?"

What was he so self-conscious about? She'd seen him at his worst before, albeit in a past life. Unless… he didn't want her to see him at his worst because he actually liked her? Keeley had done the same in her first life; she'd always tried to look her best around him.

She tilted her head. "Are you being shy?"

"No," he denied unconvincingly.

"You are! You're totally acting like a girl who refuses to take her makeup off in front of her boyfriend."

Aaron looked pained. "Please don't make me the girl in this scenario."

She grinned, deciding to tease him. It was too easy. "Aww, you're so cute! Don't worry, it makes you look tough."

"Really?" he asked doubtfully.

"Totally! Like you fought off a bunch of thugs and won, but at a price. Girls love that kind of thing."

"Do you?"

Keeley blinked. Tough guys weren't her type. Having loved only one person, she didn't even have a type. She'd originally fallen for him because he was a mystery. If she had a type, it would probably be mysterious.

"Not really my thing." Seeing his face fall, she frantically tried to placate him. Why did she care if his feelings were hurt? "You're fine though! A black eye can't detract from true beauty."

His brow furrowed. "Beauty?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. You're a beautiful man. Hasn't anyone told you that before?"

"No."

A faint blush tinged his cheeks, though he quickly resumed his poker face. Was he…blushing? She'd never seen him blush.

"You're blushing," she said, slightly stupidly.

"Am not."

The blush deepened. Liar! Keeley clapped and pointed.

"Yes, you are! You actually blush?! What the heck! Twelve years with you, and I get nothing, and now you blush over a tiny, obvious statement of fact?"

She'd complimented him before—called him handsome—and he'd never reacted. Why now? She felt oddly cheated.

He scratched his neck, avoiding her eyes. "…it was unexpected."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's really your explanation?"

"You wouldn't expect someone who hates you to call you beautiful out of nowhere, either."

Her amusement vanished. His words were matter-of-fact, yet tinged with sadness. She didn't hate him anymore, but she understood why he might think so. She hadn't been nice since discovering the truth; she'd been quite rude.

"I don't hate you."

"Sure," he said sarcastically.

She didn't realize he was capable of sarcasm either. Probably Aiden's influence.

"I don't! You've done a lot of stupid stuff, but I've forgiven you." Keeley wasn't angry anymore.

"Then why—"

She knew what he'd ask: Why won't you be with me? Because of their history. She wouldn't set herself up for failure again. It was better to cut him off before he got his hopes up.

"We have literally nothing in common. We were always doomed, even without all that stupid stuff."

Keeley couldn't believe she was talking to her ex-husband like rational adults. Communication had always been a problem.

He'd hidden things from her in the name of "protection." She wasn't much better—she'd never admitted how much she disliked his social circle.

Aaron opened his mouth to retort, but the wedding planner called them over. It was time for their rehearsal. Like at Lydia's, the processional and recessional would be at the end.

His eyes said the conversation wasn't over, but Keeley couldn't think of anything more to say. They were too different.

Unfortunately, Aaron's black eye answered her earlier question. She still cared. Great.

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