“No. But—”
“Then stop borrowing problems.” She leans back. “You handled that mom perfectly. You got the delete. You’re setting boundaries. You’re doing exactly what you’re supposed to do.”
Am I though?
Because I’ve also slept with my boss since starting.
And hidden it from my brother, my boss’s best friend.
And pretending I’m not falling for him. And Ben.
So my professional competence is maybe canceled out by my personal disasters.
I don’t say any of that out loud.
“Thanks,” I manage instead.
My phone buzzes. Marco.
Heard what happened. Thank you for handling it. I mean it.
My face fills with heat. Thank God Sabrina’s looking at her laptop and can’t see me turning a bright red over a simple text message.
Just doing my job,I type back.
His response:You’re doing more than that. You’re protecting her. I won’t forget it.
I stare at those words until my phone screen goes dark.
When your boss thanks you for basic decency and you want to climb him like a tree.
Again.
Sabrina closes her laptop. “Okay. Just got a note from Elena. She’s drafting a formal Parent Bill of Care for the PTA. Filepe will interface with school admin about the broader policy.”
“That seems like a lot.”
“It’s exactly what’s needed.” She stands. Packs her bag. “Privacy isn’t negotiable. Especially for kids. Not to mention kids withanxiety. Or kids whose parents are in the public eye.”
She’s right. Of course she’s right.
“Also,” Sabrina adds, pausing at the door, “for what it’s worth? You’re really good at this. The nanny thing. The boundary thing. All of it.”
My throat tightens. “Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
She leaves.
I sit there for a moment.
Just processing.
A year ago I would’ve been the mom filming. Would’ve captioned it something like “Parenting goals!” and chased the engagement.
Now I’m the one shutting it down.
When you realize you’ve become the person you were always meant to be.
