Aaron wasn't sure how to process Keeley's words. Was it fair to either of them? Probably not. Would he accept it anyway? Yes.

He knew he'd been wrong; he didn't deserve her love. But he never expected to hear her say she was tired of fighting the inevitable.

From her perspective, it must have seemed like she was trapped by some cosmic force, but it was only his persistence. He wasn't about to give up on her, just as she hadn't given up on him before.

That was her point, though. He wouldn't have been so persistent if he didn't remember their past life. She questioned why he had those memories.

If he hadn'tif she were the only one rebornthey never would have reconnected. He would have ignored her, like every other classmate, and lived the life his parents planned for him.

After all, they only became friends because Keeley pursued him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have given her a second glance.

"Don't force yourself," he sighed. "What I want doesn't really matter."

Her eyes narrowed. "That's all you have to say?"

"What else do you want me to say? You should know where I stand."

He cared more about her presence than her sincerity. He'd made that clear. Why did she even ask?

She closed her eyes and leaned against him. The situation was perplexing. He longed to know her thoughts, especially since she'd been sitting on his lap the entire time, as if it were perfectly normal.

"I do. I'm sorry I can't give you what you want," she said tiredly.

"What did I say about apologizing? It's unnecessary." Aaron glanced at the clock. "It's late, and you've cried a lot. Why don't you get ready for bed?"

Keeley looked up at him, her expression soft, before wrapping her arms around his neck. What was that for?

"If you'd been this nice before, I wouldn't have fallen out of love with you."

Her words struck him deeply. He knew it was true—a cruel twist of fate. There were no do-overs. He had to live with his mistakes twice.

He was speechless, so he scooped her into his arms and carried her upstairs. As he set her down on the bed and turned to leave, she pulled him onto the mattress. He was about to ask what she was doing when her lips met his.

Too startled to react, he remained still until she pulled away. She seemed embarrassed, but there was also a desperate plea in her eyes.

"Just this oncecan we pretend things are the way they were before everything went wrong?"

He'd dreamed of this, but "Are you sure? You've had a rough day; you might not be thinking clearly."

He didn't want her to regret this and avoid him later. He couldn't bear another awkward period between them.

Her expression shifted from embarrassed to unbearably sad. "You don't want me."

He quickly denied it. "Of course I do, but I don't want you to regret it. We just barely became friendly again."

"I won't. Tomorrow, I'll act like nothing happened, if you will."

"Then why—"

Keeley looked him in the eye. "Like you said, I had a rough day. I want to feel loved, for a little while."

It felt like a punch to the gut. He knew he hadn't made her feel loved after their marriage, and even before, he'd been emotionally unavailable.

She was giving him a chance to make amends, even if only for a moment. Even though it would likely hurt more afterward, he couldn't refuse.

Aaron caressed her face. She wanted to feel loved. He could do that.

He pulled her down onto him and kissed her slowly and sweetly, pouring his pent-up emotions into the kiss. He might not get another chance, so he had to do this right.

Aaron slept better than he had in his second life. Keeley was curled in his arms when he woke. He sighed contentedly and kissed her forehead. Last night hadn't been a dream.

His alarm wouldn't go off for a while; he decided to make breakfast. She'd appreciated it last time. He was pretty sure he still had pancake/waffle mix.

She came downstairs, dressed and with wet hair, as he flipped pancakes. They kept folding in on themselves, which was annoying, but he smiled warmly when she looked his way.

"Good morning."

"Morning," she said casually. She really was pretending last night hadn't happened. "Should I make coffee?"

"That would be great, thanks."

Aaron's heart was heavy, but he'd known this would happen and agreed to it anyway. He couldn't regret it—he'd been waiting for that moment since his rebirth. He would take what he could get.

He served the pancakes with melon slices while she poured coffee. Keeley pushed her mug toward him. Had she noticed it was his favorite, or was it a coincidence?

They ate breakfast in a comfortable silence. He was grateful for that. Last night hadn't ruined anything.

The extraneous promotional text ("Search the NovelFire.net website") has been removed. The writing is significantly improved in terms of grammar, punctuation, and flow.