Page 58 of The Headmaster’s Rule

I swirl my whiskey, grinding my jaw in the dark. I crossed a line by kissing her. Twice. That’s my fault. She deserves better than that. Better than me. That’s the true bottom line here, isn’t it?

The realization hits me like a slap to the face.

It’s not the school I’m worried about hurting so much, it’s her.

She’s young, with her whole career ahead of her. I know what happens to women who sleep with the boss. It’s never good. I can’t take her reputation, her opportunities, her future away from her. I can’t ask her to give that up for a bitter, jaded man twenty years her senior. She deserves someone as hopeful and unguarded as her. Not someone who lies awake at night, replaying his every mistake.

And, hell, the way I pushed her up against the wall in that supply closet, kissing her with no patience, no finesse… Shame washes through me at the memory.

I don’t deserve her loveliness.

A thump on the door breaks me from my spiraling thoughts, and I set my untouched whiskey aside, flicking on a lamp before answering it. I’m surprised to find my daughter on the doorstep, arms folded, foot tapping impatiently.

“Hey, Bug.” I muster a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re an idiot, Dad,” she says, storming past me into the house. I stare after her, bewildered.

“Good evening to you too.” Sighing wearily, I close the front door, bracing for whatever is about to happen.

“She’s too good for you, you know that?”

I freeze. “Who?”

My daughter lifts her gaze skyward. “Nora.”

“Juliana,” I warn.

“I know, Dad.”

My blood runs cold. Did Eleanor tell her?

No. I dismiss the thought instantly. She’s too careful, too respectful. She’d never betray either of us like that.

I blink as I realize I trust her implicitly. It’s been a long time since I felt that toward someone new.

Juliana watches my thoughts play out on my face, confirming, “She didn’t tell me. I figured it out.”

I rub my jaw. I could tell her I don’t know what she’s talking about, but how well does that ever work? Besides, I don’t want to lie to my daughter. It’s always been me and her against the world, and I swore to be honest with her.

“How?” I ask at last.

“Well, for one, she was super weird when she came out of the supply closet this evening,” Juliana says, giving me a pointed look.

I cringe, face heating as I inspect the floor. How did I end up in this position, getting busted by my daughter? It’s supposed to be the other way around.

“And she hasn’t been her usual self these past couple weeks,” Juliana continues. “At the start of the semester she was so bubbly and enthusiastic about everything, especially the fundraiser, but lately she’s been kind of down.” She levels her gaze at me. “And you’ve been worse than usual.”

I release a weighted sigh, loosening my tie and slipping it over my head, tossing it aside. “It’s complicated.”

My daughter holds up her hand. “That’s an excuse, and you know it.”

“Well… I’m her boss, Jules. There are certain rules.”

“Again, with the rules.” She throws her hands up in exasperation. “Fuck the rules.”

I frown, wondering what happened to my sweet little girl. Juliana has been different ever since arriving back at Wetherly. More distant, more defiant, and I’m not sure I like it.

“You know it’s not that straightforward.” But even as I say it, I hear the hollowness in the words.