Cameron yelled that the food was ready, so Keeley and Jennica coaxed their reluctant children out of the kiddie pool. Keeley's six-person dining set—purchased by Aaron when she moved in—was insufficient for their growing family, so they'd added a small plastic table and chairs for the children when they had guests.

Aaron rushed to where Keeley was struggling to lift a protesting Kaleb from the pool. "What are you doing? Go sit down; I'll handle this."

He kissed her cheek, and she rolled her eyes. She wasn't an invalid, and his overprotectiveness was annoying. June 17th couldn't come soon enough.

She sat beside Jennica as Aaron prepared the twins' hamburgers to their liking. Kaleb preferred cheeseburgers with many condiments, while Violet wanted only ketchup on hers.

"You weren't kidding about the overprotectiveness," Jennica whispered. "Does he let you do anything?"

"No," Keeley replied sourly. "I hope he snaps out of it soon."

"No kidding; I'd go crazy. How are you going to manage with the twins out of school?"

She wasn't. That was the problem. She'd have to entertain them at home for the next week and a half.

"Have you come over every day?" she suggested hopefully. "Noah could keep them occupied for hours."

Jennica grinned. "I'm in. He begs to see 'pretty Violet' every day anyway. At this rate, we might end up in-laws someday."

Keeley laughed. "Oh, stop."

Matchmaking kids was fun, but she hadn't expected it to happen. People outgrew childhood friends; she certainly had. She didn't even remember her supposed first crush, Zack Bolton, who lived below her when she was four.

Her father had mentioned him at the twins' fourth birthday party, watching Violet and Noah play. She'd expected Aaron to be jealous, but he'd dismissed it with a cocky smirk.

"Why would I be jealous of someone so insignificant you don't even remember?" he'd said later that night.

He had a point. She hadn't stopped thinking about him—negatively—even after five and a half years apart. Aaron was branded on her heart, even if she'd been too angry to realize it.

After the children were settled, he hovered, like a fly. "Do you need more water? Ketchup? Pickles? I know you always need pickles when you're pregnant. I already put four on your burger, but is that enough?"

Keeley suppressed her annoyance and smiled. "I'm fine, honey. Thanks."

The pet name instantly relaxed him. She'd started using it a few months after confessing her love. He'd been so pleased his face was pink for nearly thirty minutes.

Ah, that sap. It was easy to make him happy. She sometimes teased him to see how easily he blushed. She never tired of that adorable look.

"Hey Keeley, did you finish your research paper?" Cameron asked, joining them.

"Yes! I submitted it to my boss; it should be in next month's issue of the DOMA medical journal. There were slight differences between mice and rabbits, but the overall effect was the same. I'm moving on to dogs next," she said happily.

Everything was going great. She'd move to human trials within a decade and finally help people like Kaleb. She was sure he was cheering her on.

They chatted about work. Cameron and Aaron, working closely as CEO and vice president, knew each other's projects, but Keeley hadn't known about Jennica's. Apparently, she'd landed a small role in a commercial featuring mothers and newborns.

Keeley was surprised such commercials existed but was happy for her friend. Jennica missed acting and hadn't worked since before Noah was born. A commercial was a small step, but better than nothing.

The conversation turned to the children and the transition to kindergarten after dinner. Aaron kept a watchful eye on them.

Aaron had insisted on the highest-rated preschool in Manhattan. Keeley didn't mind; preschool was preschool. Their disagreement arose with kindergarten.

Aaron wanted the best private school, but Keeley worried about the snobbish, wealthy children. He was against public school, but she knew private schools offered better educations.

She'd attended private schools her whole life. Elementary and middle school were fine, with many upper-middle-class children. But Westwind Academy, the city's most prestigious high school, was cliquey. Keeley didn't want her children immersed in the ultra-rich. Aaron understood but wanted them to have the best education possible.

They compromised, choosing a well-rated, less expensive school, less likely to attract high-society children. She also made him promise they'd never attend Westwind. Too much drama. She wanted them to live normally, as he'd promised before their marriage.

The final paragraph, advertising a website, has been removed as it was irrelevant to the text editing request.