“Heather Greene. I’m supposed to be subbing today, but no one told me where.”

  “Right.” Chris glanced around the office. “That would be for Esther Dunja. I’ll take you down to her class. She’s hyper-organized, so I’m sure she left all of her plans on her desk.” Chris pointed at Linda. “I’ll be back.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Chris walked Heather down to the classroom, calming the poor woman’s nerves. It wasn’t her first time substitute teaching, but it certainly was her first in that school, and she was still pretty new to the job. Once Chris had Heather settled, she went back to the office and stopped short in the doorway.

  Ash.

  Ash fucking stood in the school office.

  Chris was an idiot.

  She should have put this together so much faster than she had. Ash had kids. She’d said as much. But Chris had stupidly assumed that Ash’s kids weren’t elementary age, more middle school age. Not here. Not in her school. Chris clenched her jaw, not sure what the hell to do or say or even which direction to go. She wanted to turn on her toes and walk right out of there, hide in Mel’s room until whatever Ash was doing there was finished and Chris could get ahold of herself.

  Doing just that, Chris spun around and walked away from the office. Panic swelled in her chest. This wasn’t good. No, this was worse than not good. This was a nightmare. And she had no one she could even call about it. The bell just rang, and her best friend was out on the playground getting her students, and everyone else she knew was in the same situation.

  Except Andry.

  Andry would have the same flexibility that Chris did, but could Chris really call her? Over something like this? Could she admit to her ex-wife that she’d slept with a woman on the first date that wasn’t even really a date?

  “Damnit,” Chris muttered under her breath. She whipped out her phone and made the call, stepping out the back doors toward the staff parking lot to have what little privacy she could when not in her office. “Please answer.”

  “Hey, what’s up?” Andry’s sweet voice came through the phone.

  Chris was nearly in tears. “I did something stupid.”

  “Well, that’s not the first time.” Andry laughed. “What is it this time?”

  “That woman…the one from Friday…”

  “Yeah, I remember her. Did you have fun?” Andry had no idea what she was asking, did she?

  Chris whimpered. “Yesssss,” she dragged out the word.

  “And...?”

  “And she’s a parent at the school,” Chris hissed. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “You…wait…hold on. You don’t just forget a face, Chris. You didn’t knowingly sleep with a parent.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Chris clenched her jaw, crossing her arms and glancing around furiously. No one could hear this conversation. No one. “She’s new to town. I didn’t realize her kids were this young.”

  “How old did you think she was? Because she screams barely thirty.”

  Chris was still an idiot. “I don’t know? I didn’t do the math.”

  “How old is she?”

  “I didn’t ask!” Chris nearly screeched, but she bit her tongue to hold it in. “We didn’t exactly look at each other’s IDs to make sure we were legal.”

  “So you didn’t know. Talk about it like adults, Chris. You’re not an idiot.”

  How did Andry know she was thinking that? Chris shook her hand out and squared her shoulders. Andry was right. She didn’t have any other choice but to walk back inside and deal with the problem in front of her. “What do I even say to her?”

  “That you didn’t know.” Andry was probably rolling her eyes. Chris could see it now. She was leaning back in her chair in her office, rolling her eyes and thinking it was impossible that they were even having this conversation. “You need to be honest with her.”

  “I’ve never been anything but.” Chris bit her tongue because that wasn’t true, and she was covering up a lie with another lie. “No, that’s not true. I know that, but it’s not what I meant.”

  “I know what you meant.” Andry’s voice was drowned in pain and sadness. “You only ever lied about one thing.”

  “Right.” Chris bit the inside of her cheek. “It was more than one night.”

  Silence permeated through the call, and Chris wasn’t even sure Andry was still listening or if she was lost in her own chaos of hurt that Chris had caused in the past.

  “Look, I’m sorry I’m an idiot. I lied to you for years when I shouldn’t have. I lied to myself for longer. There’s no excuse for it.”

  “I know.” Andry sniffled. “At least you’ve come clean now.”

  The double meaning of Andry’s clean didn’t get past Chris. “I am, and I have come clean.”

  “How was it more than one night?” Andry seemed to snap back to attention.

  “We’ve been texting, that’s it.”

  “Then talk to her, Chris. You need to start on the right foot.”

  Chris knew Andry was right, even if she didn’t want to admit it and she didn’t want to do anything about it. “Thanks. I will.”

  “And Chris?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I still want you to be happy. Thank you for sharing with me.”

  “I panic-called you.” Chris rubbed her temple.

  Andry chuckled. “You did. Glad to know I still have some place in your life.”

  “You’ll always have a place in my life, Andry. Please know that.”

  “I do.” Andry sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ve got morning announcements.”

  “Crap. Me too. Talk to you later.” Chris hung up without another warning.

  Swiping her way back into the school, Chris started her long walk of shame. She had to get to the front office in one piece, because standing in front of Ash and having this conversation was going to take everything out of her. Did she want more? Yes. She was willing to admit that now that it wasn’t even a possibility. Because she wouldn’t date a parent. Not now. Not ever.

  Not that she was worthy of dating to begin with. She was still an idiot. She was still a drunk. And as Andry had pointed out, she was still a liar. With her shoulders set, Chris trudged her way to the disaster waiting for her.

  Chapter Six

  “I just needed to bring in proof of residency and my kids immunization records to finish registering them, right?” Ash’s stomach was in knots. This was worse than the first day of school after Mari died.

  The plump office admin sat behind her desk, staring at the papers Ash had handed over. She wasn’t ready to move to Cheyenne. She wasn’t fully ready to say that she was moving on, although that weekend had proved it, hadn’t it? She’d had two full days to think about it, and that’s all it had been. Ash moving on from the memory of her wife.

  “That should be all we need, and a copy of their birth certificate.”

  “Right.” Ash rummaged through her purse. She’d brought those with her, but she’d completely forgotten about them from the time it took her to get to the school and into the office. She handed the papers over.

  “I’ll just make a copy. Did you want to talk to Dr. Murphey? She should be back in the office soon.”

  “Oh, if she has time, I guess.” It would be a prime time for Ash to fill the principal in on some of the issues Avonlee was having, maybe get a jump start on her individual education plan and a recommendation for a therapist since she was likely to need it at some point.

  “I’m sure she’ll have time.” Linda smiled at her from the copy machine. “Maybe she’ll even give you a tour and show you the girls’ classrooms, meet their teachers before their first day.”

  “That’d be nice.” Linda could probably put any nervous parent at ease. Ash was appreciating that ability right now. Her shoulders relaxed a bit, and she didn’t feel like such an idiot standing there. Ash clasped onto the handle on her purse.

  “Here’s the paperwork back.” Linda handed everything over.

  Ash folded it up and shoved it into her purse. She really just wanted to get out of there and go home, so if the principal didn’t show up in the next five seconds, she was gone. She was just about to ask if there was anything else when Linda jumped in first.

  “Here’s Dr. Murphey.”

  Ash turned around. Her stomach plummeted to the center of the earth. What kind of shit show was this? Her brain short-circuited as she tried to comprehend what was happening.

  Chris.

  Dr. Murphey.

  Ms. Murphey.

  Junior English.

  Every fiber of her being told Ash to run. It told her to move back home to Seattle, get her kids back into a school with a principal who wouldn’t hate them, someone who wasn’t a bully, someone who was worth their salt and who would support her kids through everything. Chris wasn’t that person. She couldn’t be. She’d proven that to Ash decades ago.

  “Want to talk in my office?” Chris asked. She at least had the audacity to look pale.

  Though Ash couldn’t be sure how true she was in that. Ash’s voice wobbled, “Sure.”

  She wasn’t sure why she did it, but she followed Chris into her office. When the door shut, Ash’s back was ramrod straight. What on earth could Chris have to say to her now?

  “I should have figured out that your kids would be here,” Chris started. “I made the assumption they were older…that you were older.”

  “Avonlee is ten, and Rhubie is seven.”

  Chris nodded, crossing her arms as she leaned against the table in the corner of her office. “And you’re about five years younger than I thought. Add five to each of your kids’ age, and you can see why I’d think they were older. I’m so sorry. If I had known you were going to be one of my parents, I wouldn’t have…” Chris trailed off.

  “Fucked me?” The curse burst from her.

  Chris glanced around her toward the door. “This is my place of work, and it’s the place your kids are going to be learning. I won’t be their teacher, so there’s that, but I would appreciate it if we can keep some kind of civility while we’re here. And I know I shouldn’t have to say this, but from the look on your face, you’re probably in agreement that nothing can happen between us again.”

  Ash was very near tears. Her heart pumped hard, thudding up into her neck and clogging it with emotion. How was she even going to say this? “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  A deep line formed in the center of Chris’ brow. “Remember you? From last weekend?”

  Shaking her head, Ash tensed even more. Her chest was so tight that it was hard to breathe. She hadn’t realized who Chris was, not until she’d seen her in this environment, seen her standing with the damn lanyard, the confidence in her shoulders, the power. “Regan High School. Junior English.”

  This was her worst nightmare coming true. Not only had Chris made her junior year of high school a living hell, but seventeen years later they’d fucked. And neither one of them had put it together. And now Chris—Dr. Murphey—was her girls’ principal? She couldn’t handle this.

  “You were my junior English teacher. You hated me.”

  The light went off in Chris’ eyes. She stilled, staring directly at Ash with a wide gaze and parted lips. “Ashton Garrison.”

  “Ashton Taylor now. My married name.”

  “Oh my god.” Chris covered her mouth with her hand, still staring, still in total shock.

  To be fair, Ash was too. She had never thought that she’d see this woman again. She’d always thought she’d recognize her in an instant, but seventeen years, different states, what was the likelihood that they would run into each other? It had to be completely improbable.

  “Oh my god!” Chris said louder. “Holy…” she trailed off, not finishing out the curse that Ash knew was on her tongue. “And I didn’t hate you.” Chris stood up, straightening her back but still keeping her distance.

  Ash was so grateful for that, because she couldn’t be sure what she’d do if Chris came any closer. Run. She’d definitely do that, but to bring her girls back? That wasn’t ever going to happen.

  “I really didn’t hate you,” Chris said softer, her hand out in front of her as if she was going to touch Ash, but at the last minute, she pulled back. “You were my favorite student.”

  “Favorite?” Ash screeched.

  Chris once again furtively glanced toward the door. “Yes, my favorite. I was working on my master’s, Ash. I didn’t know a lot of what I was doing, but you were so brilliant with words. You were amazingly creative in your assignments.”

  “You constantly told me that my stuff was shit.”

  “No.” Chris shook her head. “I told you that you could do better, because you could.”

  “You’re such a liar!” Ash stepped forward, suddenly finding that grit she’d needed earlier. “You made my life a living hell. There was nothing I could do that could please you. You were always telling me that I could do better, that I wasn’t good enough. You’re the worst teacher I ever had.”

  Chris’ lower lip quivered. “I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know.”

  “No, how could you? You didn’t care about us. All you cared about was you.” Ash was on a roll now, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to stop. “My friends used to call you a bitch behind your back, and they were right. God, I can’t believe I had sex with you.” Reaching up, Ash grabbed her hair and pulled at it hard. “How stupid could I be?”

  “You’re not stupid,” Chris murmured, her voice raw. “You’re not. You’re brilliant. I wanted to challenge you back then. I’m not lying when I say that you were one of the best students I had, Ashton. Your writing is brilliant.”

  “Was,” Ash spat.

  Chris shook her head in confusion.

  “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I gave up writing, and I’m not going back to it.” Her career was dust, and she was back to working in the real world.

  “Going back? Ashton, you’re going to have to fill me in on what you’re talking about. It’s been seventeen years—”

  “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just forget last weekend ever happened, because it won’t happen again. And not because you’re my daughters’ principal, but because you’re a bully. If I could move my kids to another school, I would.”

  “I’ll sign the waiver if that’s what you want. If that’s what’s best for them.” Chris seemed to shrink before Ash’s eyes, her entire body becoming even smaller if that was at all possible. She looked meek almost.

  Ash hadn’t even considered a waiver. But she’d worked her kids up to going to school here, and to change the plan again would only devastate them both and probably push Avonlee further behind than she already was. That and it was an argument she absolutely didn’t want to have with Avonlee.

  “Ashton, I promise you I didn’t remember who you were. If I had, then Friday night never would have happened.”

  “Of course it wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have allowed it.” Ash clenched her jaw hard, glaring with everything she had. “I can’t believe they let you continue to be a teacher.”

  “I know I’m not perfect,” Chris stated, her voice soft as if she was placating Ash into something she didn’t want. “No one is perfect.”

  “What are you saying?” Every word was still an accusation. Ash wasn’t going to let this go. Chris had been awful to her.

  “I’m saying that I mess up, and I will continue to mess up.” Chris collapsed into the chair at the table, her hand covering her eyes. “This is a perfect example of that. But I promise you that I was a good teacher, and that I am a good principal. It’s the one thing I manage to do right in my life.”

  Empathy tickled the back of Ash’s heart, despite the fact that she didn’t want to feel it. Was this just another trick? Chris had been particularly hard on her when she was a kid, always giving her a grade just below what Ash thought she deserved, talking only to her about the problems in her assignment. Chris never did that with anyone else.

  “Yeah, well, we’re all screw ups in one way or another.” Ash slid into the seat next to Chris, not sure why. She’d much rather leave and never come back, but if her girls were going to school there, they’d have to figure out how to see each other. “Friday shouldn’t have happened, for so many reasons.”

  Chris frowned, looking over her head. “Well, if there was one way you pleased me, it was that, but it certainly hasn’t been the only way.”

  Ash chuckled, a smile tugging at her lips that she worked hard to contain. This wasn’t a funny conversation. This wasn’t any type of talk that was amusing. Except Ash wanted to laugh. She brought her hand up to her lips to try and stifle the snort. She shook her head, unable as the laugh bubbled up from her chest. “What?”

  “I don’t know.” Chris laid her hands flat on the table and leaned back in the chair. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

  Chris looked devastated. The lines in her face were deeper, her gaze was glued to some spot on the other side of the table, and her entire energy was deflated. Ash hadn’t done that, had she? No, she couldn’t feel bad for her bully. Ash pulled herself back together and ran her finger in a circle on the tabletop.

  “I expect my girls to be treated in a way I wasn’t.”

  “They’re with two of my best teachers.” Chris still didn’t look at her. “Ms. Walsh is an amazing teacher, she’s been teaching almost ten years now—she’ll be Rhubie’s teacher. And Ms. Dunja will be Avonlee’s.”

  “I’m sure you say that about all your teachers.”

  Chris cut Ash a look. “I don’t play you for a fool, so don’t act it.”

  The wind rushed out of Ash’s lungs. She sat there stunned. That was the Ms. Murphey that she remembered. The one who didn’t hold back when she had something to say or a point to make. Ash pursed her lips.

  “You’re still as cruel as you were back then, aren’t you?” Ash scoffed. “Great. Just where my girls needed to end up.” Ash stood up, not willing to put up with any more of Chris’ bullshit. She’d been here before, and she wouldn’t stand for it again. “If you pull any of the crap on my kids like you did on me, you can bet your ass I’ll be filing a report on you.”