Page 129 of My Favorite Boss

And I was trying, but it felt as if she was pushing me away to prove a point. And the only point I could come up with was to prove she didn’t need me.

I gave up and shut off my computer, determined to go and see her and hash this out once and for all. I reached for my phone then recalled Darryl was going to take her food, so I decided to grab a cab. Outside, I walked to the curb, about to raise my arm, when I heard my name being called.

I turned to see Sam heading my way. He took one look at me and grabbed my arm. “Come with me, Bane. You look like you need a drink and an ear. Luckily, both are available.”

Sam stared at me after I finished talking. Blathering was more like it. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Magnolia, my worries, my fears, everything came out. Her father’s death, the sadness and worry in her eyes, the way I felt she was pulling away from me. Her anemia and how pale she was.

“Who is her doctor?”

“Wilson. Hannah Wilson.”

He nodded. “Good physician. She’s in capable hands.” He took a sip of his beer. “You know, Bane, grief is a funny thing. Everyone reacts differently to it. You’ve never experienced it in your adult life or been around it. It could just be that.”

“It’s more,” I insisted.

He leaned back, draping his arm along the top of the booth. “And you care?”

“Of course I do.”

“Why?”

I stared at him.

“Could it be because you love her?”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks.

I blinked as I repeated the words in my head.

Love her.

Love Magnolia.

I loved Magnolia Myers.

Holy shit.

All of the worry, the questions, the wonder, the joy—all of it made sense.

I fucking loved her.

Sam chuckled. “That was quite the epiphany.” He took another sip. “Perhaps you need to tell the lady.”

I sat back, still in shock. “I know.”

The thought of saying those words made me anxious. Of what they meant to my life, of the power they could give a person.

Except it was Magnolia I would say them to. My Maggie darling.

Suddenly, I wasn’t anxious because of the words. I was anxious to say them. To see the wonder on her face. To know I could make her feel the way I did when she said them to me.

Incredible. Invincible. Alive.

“As for the anemia, I’m sure Dr. Wilson has it in hand. Magnolia needs to watch her diet, take her supplements, and get lots of rest.”

“I make sure she takes her pills every day. I bought her a dispenser. In fact—” I paused as I dug in my pocket for my phone “—I took a picture of the bottles so I could pick up more to make sure she doesn’t run out. I haven’t had a chance to look at it,” I snorted. “She doesn’t even like me to see them, so she keeps them in her drawer.” I showed the picture to Sam, who studied it, looked at me, then back at the picture.

“You said she is sleeping a lot?”