Keeley was about to usher her father away for their celebratory dinner when he turned to Aaron. "Where are your parents, son?"

He shrugged, replying coolly, "They aren't here."

Robert frowned, hesitant to offend Aaron by commenting on his parents' absence. It was ridiculous that neither had attended their child's high school graduation. Who would do that?

"We're going out to celebrate," Robert said. "Why don't you join us?"

Keeley gaped. The traitor! He knew she disliked Aaron and still invited him? Whose side was he on?

She was about to protest when Aaron spoke.

"Thank you, Mr. Hall, but I don't want to intrude on a family gathering."

Keeley's tense muscles relaxed. Good. He'd finally given up. A couple of months ago, he would have done anything to be with her.

"It's just the two of us," her father said jovially. "The more the merrier! I insist." Keeley's heart sank.

"Alright, if you're sure. I'd be happy to join you," Aaron replied, his expression unreadable.

So much for their graduation photo being their last memory together. Keeley wanted to protest, but her father gave her a silencing look.

It was just dinner. She'd been through worse. It could be a final hurrah before they parted ways permanently.

Robert had driven to the school, so they all piled into his 1997 Chevrolet Impala—likely the oldest car Aaron had ever been in.

The ride was quiet. Keeley had nothing to say, and Aaron was naturally reserved. The awkwardness was stifling, so they were relieved to reach the popular buffet restaurant.

Aaron's slight expression of astonishment and distaste was both hilarious and sobering. Keeley almost laughed, thinking this might be his first experience with "slumming," but the class difference between them sobered her.

This was a special treat for her family. He would never have dreamed of eating at such a place.

It reminded her of having to change her restaurant preferences after they married because Aaron refused to go anywhere without at least one Michelin star. There was nothing wrong with chain restaurants!

She never truly belonged in the world of the rich, no matter how hard she tried to fit in.

Feeling bitter, she teased him. "Haven't you ever been to a buffet before?"

"Yes inside Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas." He claimed it was a top-ten buffet.

She looked at him quizzically. When had he been to Las Vegas?

In her previous life, she'd mentioned wanting to see the Grand Canyon and Las Vegas, but Aaron had refused, considering the East Coast more civilized. Apparently, a bad experience with Hollywood executives had soured him on the West Coast. He'd never traveled farther west than the Mississippi River.

"I found us a table," her father called, interrupting her thoughts.

Keeley sampled almost everything except salad. She'd never liked it, and eight years of eating it to fit in with socialites had made her loathe it. There were much better ways to eat vegetables—like in soup. She chose two types of vegetables before loading up on a baked potato, pasta, fruit, and various meats.

Robert also got a variety of foods, but Aaron took only a salad and a few small slices of meat.

Of course. He looked down on the place; why eat more than necessary? Keeley got seconds of several dishes just to spite him.

During dinner, her father questioned Aaron about Harvard: his enrollment date, campus visits, and expectations.

Aaron's answers were brief and to the point. He always used as few words as possible.

Once, Keeley had been proud of getting more than a few sentences out of him. How pathetic.

"Boston is nice, but I look forward to returning to New York. It's my home," Aaron concluded.

Keeley finally spoke. "That's why I'm not leaving."

His lips twitched. "I know."

What did he know? They were hardly friends. She'd never told him about her love for New York City.

Still, it wasn't an unreasonable assumption, as she wasn't leaving for college like most of her classmates. The graduation program listed everyone's college destinations. Many went Ivy League or to the West Coast. Only two other classmates were attending NYU with her.

"Well, it is the greatest city in the world," she said tartly, digging into her roast beef.

She avoided further conversation by getting a mountain of desserts, a decision she'd regret later with stomach cramps.

After dinner, they dropped Aaron off. He asked to speak to Keeley privately.

She agreed, hoping for closure. The final goodbye.

"Well, it's been interesting knowing you. Have fun at Harvard," she said, extending her hand. A handshake seemed fitting for such a dead relationship.

He took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulled her into a hug.

"Just let me hold you for a moment."

It was so unexpected that she didn't resist. She might as well let him have this. People hugged goodbye all the time.

When he released her, he gently cupped her cheek and stroked it. Keeley froze. He better not try to kiss her again. That was her limit.

Thankfully, he stepped back. His half-smile was wistful. "Take care of yourself, Keeley."

"Uh, you too. Bye."

As Keeley walked to her car, she glanced back. Aaron watched her go, but when their eyes met, he turned toward his house.

Thirteen years of love and pain were over. Their paths were diverging, as they always should have.