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I take a slow breath, meeting his gaze. "I am."

"No personal conduct on school grounds or at school events. Independent oversight of Kayla's assessments. All parent communication through official channels with administrative presence at conferences," Harrison says. "If you maintain those boundaries, the district will support you. But if complaints arise or parents raise concerns about favoritism, we'll need to address them immediately and transparently."

"I understand," I say firmly.

Harrison studies me for a long moment, then nods. "All right. I'll prepare the administrative memorandum and place it in a confidential file."

When I walk out of his office, my hands are still shaking—but this time, it's not from fear.

It's from relief.

Before heading home for the day, I walk down the quiet hallway toward the teachers' lounge to grab my travel mug from the drying rack by the sink.

Jennifer is standing by the counter when I walk in, stirring a packet of sugar into a fresh cup of coffee. The moment the door clicks shut, her head snaps up, and her usual polished expression vanishes.

"Well, I hope you're happy," she says, her voice sharp and bitter.

I stop near the counter, keeping my tone perfectly even. "Good afternoon, Jennifer."

"I got written up because of that ridiculous email."

I look at her, refusing to shrink. "You mean the email you sent?"

"It was a professional reminder, Megan. I didn't even use your name."

"You described my classroom, Brock's donations, and how often he comes to school," I say, keeping my voice quiet and steady. "Who exactly did you think people would assume you were talking about?"

Jennifer sets her spoon down against the counter with a hard clatter. "I don't understand what he sees in you. I've been nothing but nice to him, and he acts like I don't exist."

I stare at her, the sheer bluntness of her admission hanging between us. "Jennifer, I'm not responsible for who Brock wants to date."

"Well, congratulations. You got the rich attorney, and now I'm the one with a reprimand in my file."

"You got reprimanded because you emailed parents with insinuations about another teacher's personal life."

"I didn't mention your name!"

"You didn't have to, and you know that."

A dark flush creeps up her neck, staining her cheeks. She opens her mouth to fire back, but there is nothing left for her to hide behind. She grabs her mug off the counter, her knuckles white around the handle.

"Enjoy your little relationship while it lasts," she mutters coldly.

I take my travel mug from the counter. "Have a good evening, Jennifer."

She turns on her heel and walks out, the heavy door clicking shut behind her.

I stand alone in the quiet lounge for a moment, my heart beating a little faster than normal. But for the first time in weeks, the suffocating knot of anxiety in my chest is gone.

I'm finally done making her jealousy my responsibility.

By the time Brock arrives at my apartment that evening, the tension that has weighed on my chest for weeks has finally broken.

The moment I open the door, he's standing there in a sharp dark suit, his gaze intense and searching. "How did it go?"

"He documented the disclosure," I say, a long breath of relief loosening the knot in my chest. "Dr. Harrison made it clear the arrangement is still subject to review if concerns arise, but we have a plan now."

Relief washes over Brock's features, followed immediately by quiet respect. "We do."