"You don't like it?" he asks with a shy smile, brushing his shorter hair back. He takes a few hesitant steps toward the heavy wooden desk, looking a little out of place—like he's not sure he belongs.

I'm still stunned. He's here. In my house. My daughter opened the door for him.

I stay quiet a moment too long. All I want is to hug him, to run my fingers through that soft hair—but I stop myself. I have to.

"You look great, Ashley," he says, still smiling. And I realize I am too.

"It's lovely, Harry. I liked it longer," I admit, then blush. "But you still look good. You always do."

He chuckles. "Then I guess I'll let it grow out after filming's done."

"How are you?" he asks before I can respond again. There's concern behind his words.

"I... I'm okay."

His face tightens. "That weasel. That bastard Noah. When I get my hands on him—"

"Harry, it's okay," I move toward him, cautiously. I still can't quite believe he's here. That he left everything to come see me.

"It's not okay!" he says, pacing. "Had I not come here... if I hadn't pushed so hard... if only I—"

"You didn't exactly have to twist my arm," I try to joke, hoping to ease the tension.

"But you did resist, Ash. I didn't listen. I insisted. And now your job is on the line. Your future!" His voice cracks. "I went about this so wrong. In my attempt to show you I'm a man, that I could be someone you could depend on... I enrolled in your university, your class, for God's sake! And I put your entire career at risk."

He pauses, eyes stormy. "I tried so hard to prove I was your equal. That I wasn't just some kid. That I was smart enough, capable enough, good enough. And all I did was prove the opposite."

"Harry, you didn't know—"

"I should have known. I wanted to show you what you were missing. I wanted to stay close to you. And now look where we are."

"Harry, please, calm down," I say gently. "My daughter's in the next room."

His eyes widen. "Jesus. And now I've dragged her into this too."

He starts pacing again, running a hand down his face. My heart aches watching him unravel.

"Harry, please—just sit," I say softly, gesturing to the chair across from me. It hurts to see him like this, so full of guilt, so broken.

He sinks into the seat. "It's not okay. This is all my fault."

"Stop saying that. We're two consenting adults. We both knew the risks. Let's just figure out what to do next."

He doesn't respond, just mutters something under his breath about Noah and clenches his fists.

I kneel in front of him and take his hands in mine—cold hands, shaking. I lift them to my lips and kiss his knuckles.

"If things go badly—" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"Don't say that. I'll never forgive myself."

"Shhh. Listen to me. If the worst happens, I'll survive. I've saved money. I can open a practice. I'll be okay. We will be okay."

His eyes search mine, full of panic. "You're not going to talk to the dean, are you? Can't you just give Coopers what he wants? Just this once?"

The vulnerability in his voice breaks something in me. I see the boy in the man, the fear behind his strength.

"I can't. And I won't," I say firmly, standing. "If I give in, he'll never stop. He's already tasted power. He'll come for more. This isn't just about 10%."

Harry grips my hand. "What do we do then?"

I look down at him and squeeze his hand.

"I'll call my mum to stay with Anzette. Then we'll drive to Elizabeth's. We'll figure this out together—with no distractions, no fear of being overheard. Okay?"

He nods, subdued. "Okay."

And that's exactly what we do.

+++

"You basically haven't done anything wrong. You were in a relationship—well, I wouldn't call it a relationship—before he became your student, and he quit as soon as you fucked it up. Or I'd say you f—"

"Liz! For God's sake," I snap, already regretting bringing everyone here. We've barely been in her flat five minutes and I'm already questioning the decision.

"What?" She shrugs. "It is what it is."

Niall finds this all very entertaining. Harry and I, not so much.

"Can we just watch the video?" I ask, ignoring the heat rising to my cheeks.

Reluctantly, Harry pulls out his phone, taps the screen a few times, and hands it to me.

I hit play. At first, the pub noise drowns everything out—laughter, music, glasses clinking. I see Harry approaching Elizabeth, speaking to her. Then, the angle shifts, and the man filming must've moved closer. Their conversation becomes clear:

"Please, Elizabeth..." Harry's voice cracks just a bit, "I need to go to her. I need to explain."

Liz looks hesitant but he keeps pressing.

"I need to see her. I need to—I need her, Liz. And she—Ashley—she needs me too."

And there it is. My name.

For a moment, I'd hoped we might get away with it. But now, it's on record. Enough to raise suspicion. Enough, if paired with the video of him leaving my flat, to suspend me.

"She does, she just doesn't admit it. Go get her, loverboy," Elizabeth replies, clearly unaware she's being recorded. I see her typing my address into Niall's phone and handing it to Harry.

My hands tremble slightly. I'm pale. I can feel it.

Harry scrolls to the next video. It's him, coming out of my building, visibly upset.

"I'd just gotten the video," he explains quietly. "He must've camped out all night and sent it when he got tired of waiting. Wanted to force the fall."

The camera lingers on our mailbox. My name is visible next to the buzzer.

Niall breaks the silence. "So... what are you going to do?"

"There's no way in hell I'm giving in," I say without hesitation. "I can't. Harry is protected under the NDA—his name can't legally be involved. If Coopers goes to the dean, that's where he'll have to stop. He can't go to the press."

"I don't care about that!" Harry practically shouts.

"But I do!" I shout back.

"Not just for my sake. For Anzette. She's a kid. Kids are cruel. She'll be bullied, ridiculed—for what? That her mother, who's old enough to be your mother, couldn't keep her pants on?"

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off gently.

"I'm not saying I regret what happened. I don't. I know it wasn't the smartest thing, not under the circumstances. But don't act like you tricked me into it. I knew exactly what I was doing. I don't regret it. I don't regret you."

He exhales, the tension visibly leaving his shoulders. His eyes shine, brimming.

I didn't plan the outburst, but it needed to be said. I want this man. And he wants me. We made a mess—but if we're going to move forward, we need to clean it up. Together.

And I have an idea.

The next day, Harry waits at Rebecca's flat. When Coopers arrives, he doesn't even try to hide his surprise.

"What is this—an ambush?" Noah sneers as Harry opens the door.

"Get in," Harry says, voice low and firm.

Coopers hesitates, then steps inside.

"So, Rebecca's in on this too?" he asks, glancing around. "No wonder the professor favored her. I thought you two were a thing—but who knows? Maybe it's a threesome."

Harry's jaw clenches.

"Your kind's known for worse."

"My kind?" Harry asks, almost amused.

"Yeah. Rock star wannabes."

Harry breathes. In. Out.

"Blondie in on this too?" Noah says again.

"Rebecca was kind enough to lend me her flat. She has no idea what I want to say to you," Harry says calmly, evenly.

"And what do you want to say to me?" Noah challenges, crossing his arms.

"The deal's off."

"What deal?"

"I'm coming back to campus."

"Like hell you are," Coopers hisses.

"The deal was, I leave—and you leave everyone else alone."

"Well, guess what? The deal changed. I need her to fix my grade. I need an extension."

"You need who?"

Coopers rolls his eyes. "Professor Cameron, genius. God, you are dumber than you look."

"Maybe."

"So, what do you want?" Coopers scoffs. "She gives me what I want—or I go to the dean. She's finished. Neither your money nor your name can save her."

"And you think blackmailing her will?" Harry asks, voice dipped in disgust.

"Damn right. I'd love to see her sweat. And if you so much as set foot on campus again, I'll send the videos. I'll ruin her."

"What videos?" Harry smirks.

"The ones I sent you. What do you mean, 'what videos'?"

"The ones where I talk to a friend about another friend? The ones where Ashley doesn't even appear? The ones you legally can't use because you signed an NDA?"

"They're enough to raise suspicion. Enough to get her suspended."

Harry takes a step closer.

"Then I'll sue you. For every penny your daddy ever made."

"You wouldn't. You wouldn't risk dragging her down."

"I might."

"I'll send them anonymously. The dean will know what he needs to know. That's all that matters."

"Sure," Harry says coolly. "And just to be clear—the new deal is: you shut your mouth, and I stay out of your way. Or else?"

"Or else you'll do what, exactly?" Coopers jeers.

Harry grins. "Okay, Ni. I think we got what we need."

Coopers blinks. "What?"

"I wasn't talking to you, dickhead."

From the hallway, Niall steps into view, holding up his phone. The screen still recording.