After encountering Graydon Meyer, Keeley was afraid to leave the house for a while. The uncertainty of who she might meet on the streets was nerve-wracking. Staying home felt safer. Besides, the doctor had recommended ample rest once the semester ended.

She ended up ordering all of Aaron's Christmas presents online. He was always a difficult person to shop for, since he could buy anything he wanted. She got him a few ties (a reliable choice), but also wanted something more meaningful.

She could have gotten him an unoriginal gift, like a watch engraved with their wedding date—similar to their first Christmas together in their "past life." He would likely appreciate it. However, she craved something new and different.

Cheesy homemade gifts usually pleased him. This sparked an idea. They hadn't fully decorated the house yet, and there was a blank space perfect for some pictures.

The photographer had sent a disc of their wedding photos a few days earlier. A photo collage frame seemed like fun.

Keeley didn't have many pictures with Aaron from this life: Christmas Eve last year, Jennica's wedding, the time she did his makeup while he slept, their ultrasound at the doctor's office, and their own wedding. That was it.

She found a five-slot frame online. She could choose one picture from each event.

Picking the best photos took time. At Jennica's wedding, the photographer had captured a picture of her and Aaron dancing; she chose that one. The angle cleverly obscured his black eye.

From their own wedding, there were countless options. Finally, she selected the photo where Aaron joyfully lifted her hand, and she laughed in embarrassed delight. The picture perfectly captured their personalities.

Indeed, all the chosen photos showcased their personalities. They looked like any other couple in love—each other's favorite people in the world.

Keeley smiled wistfully. That's how it should have always been. Neither of them should have hidden themselves. Aaron wasn't solely at fault.

After selecting her photos, she sent them to a one-hour photo printing service and arranged for pickup. The other presents were ordered and en route.

With nothing pressing, she started baking more Christmas cookies. Her dad (and Aaron, who inexplicably loved her baking) would be disappointed without the usual treats.

The sugar cookies and mint brownies were already in the freezer, but she hadn't made anything else. She started on the M&M cookies—a relatively easy recipe. She was still baking when Aaron came home and pilfered some cookie dough.

"Hey, love," he said, mouth full, making her laugh.

He'd become less formal lately, a welcome change. She used to yearn for this easy closeness.

"Hey. How was work?" she asked, turning to hug him. Their babies made it a little tricky.

"My father keeps nagging me about my mother's Christmas party, but otherwise, it was fine."

Keeley felt sorry for him. He tried to sound nonchalant, but she knew it upset him. He said he wasn't going because he wanted to spend the holiday with her and her father.

Having such a cold, business-like family must be hard. She hadn't realized how much it affected him, as he always acted like it didn't matter. But seeing how much he enjoyed simple things, like goofing off with her dad, showed her otherwise.

Feeling sentimental, she hugged him tighter. He wasn't alone anymore. He had her, albeit somewhat unwillingly. She would give him the family he'd always wanted.

Aaron soaked up the affection. "Someone's feeling huggy today," he remarked, smiling.

"Is that not allowed?" she teased.

"Oh, it's definitely allowed. In fact, feel free to do it even more."

She rested her head on his chest, comforted by his steady heartbeat. It felt safe.

Safety had never been associated with Aaron before. For a long time, he was a source of fear. Not anymore. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, he had become the most consistent part of her life.

Keeley was tempted to kiss him but resisted. She might fall back in love with him someday, but she didn't want to raise his hopes unnecessarily.

Instead, she asked if he wanted to help scoop cookies. He did, so she patiently showed him how to use the cookie scoop and space the cookies on the baking sheet. Then she taught him how to dip pretzels in melted white chocolate using a double boiler—her other project.

Aaron radiated contentment as they worked together. He frequently kissed her cheek, rubbed her belly, or played with her hair. He seemed particularly touch-starved. It pained her.

That night, Keeley snuggled close to him. His face was buried in her neck as he slept soundly. She used his arm as a pillow, and fell asleep quickly. The final sentence, seemingly an advertisement, has been removed.