Page 36 of Bossy Grump's Secret

"Well, she wouldn't say!" He raises his hands in defence.

"How did you not notice it?" I pose the question to Dylan, who looks at me like I've grown a horn.

"Ava, there's like seven concrete walls and ten floors between us. What am I supposed to do? Smell the pathogens?"

"In the morning, Dylan."

"You looked completely fine in the morning," he defends.

I feel like slapping him. Unfortunately, my energy fails me.

"You men can be so dumb," I chuckle, but not enough for anyone but him to hear it. He gives me a stern glare.

"So, why didn't you just come and tell me? Goddamn this, Ava. This isn't my fault, and you know it."

"You don't care," I whisper. "You never did."

He looks around with exasperation and wants to react, but decides wisely against it.

"We need to get you to the clinic. You're speaking in ancient Hebrew." He holds my arm and tugs me along.

He’s right. I have no real anger or grievance toward him, but my headache just turns every word he says into a pile of horse dung I find unnaturally offensive.

Somewhere along the route to the clinic, I shake my hands away from him, feeling too annoyed to touch him, but he holds me firmly back. I struggle against him, but he keeps his grip firm this time. Seeing it a pointless endeavor, especially as it only aggravates my headache, I leave it until I get to the clinic, where he lets me yank my hand away from his vice-like grip.

I sit on the examination bed and avoid his gaze throughout the examination.

"Turns out it's just an initial stage of hemicrania. Can't tell if it'll continue or not. If you rest and take these meds…." the doctor instructs, hand me the prescriptions. "Come back in three days if the symptoms persist or you develop new ones like a runny nose or insomnia, alright?"

"Won't headaches like this naturally cause insomnia? I don't think I'd be getting any sleep," I laugh. He shares my laugh but then adds, "That's what the pills are for. If it's really just hemicrania, or it's a continua variant… we'll tell from your feedback."

I don't understand what he just said, but it's self-explanatory. Dylan's eye hasn't left me since we arrived, and I'm still wondering what’s on his mind. Seeing him today - having to choose between his integrity and me - makes me understand how much the tides are against us in this relationship. It has to stop. If he were just my normal boss, I don't think I'd have waited this long to get help...and I certainly wouldn't be feeling this hurt about him not noticing my predicament.

"So...no work for you for the next three days," he chuckles. "Tsk. Lucky you."

I smile at him, not because his jeer was funny, but because I will probably be alone with him this one last time. I have to make it worth the while.

"By the way, I'm sorry I didn't notice it earlier. I guess I got too carried away with the whole work thing." He shakes his head.

Just then, the rationality I have been lacking because of the splitting headache returns. I look at him, worrying and fussing over me. Ava Persson is a complete idiot; she looks wise enough… I realize one thing: I can't do this to him. He is my boss, and I am but his subordinate.

His emotions attached to me and me to him are just not healthy for the workplace. It would be stupid of him to throw everything he has worked for away…and for me to watch him do so just because it's at my convenience.

He’s not supposed to care that I have a headache…at least not until I tell him; his only responsibility is to that is making sure I get the medication required. Seeing him in a compromised state when he’s supposed to be working and not be by my side makes me a terrible person if I continue to let it happen.

"Dylan." I look at him, and he looks up back at me, maybe relieved I am finally communicating again. I have to let him down easily.

But is there any easy way for a breakup?

“We can’t…I can’t…” I pause and shake my head at the tears that threaten to fall from my eyes. That was a bad idea, considering I’m trying to calm an aching head.

He waits for me in anticipation.

“You need to work, Dylan," I tell him. "… you're not working when you're with me. I'm not working when I'm with you, either.” I speak while still conjuring up better words. I keep my eyes closed so I don’t have to see the look of hurt in his eyes, knowing I caused it.

He seems to have picked up on what I’m driving at, and I feel his hands hold mine. “Listen, Ava, we can work something out. I’m sure we can. We just have to…”

“We can’t, Dylan. You know we can’t. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Look at you! You’re supposed to be the boss, giving commands and not inclined to care, yet here you are. I’m deadweight, and you know it. Let’s not fool ourselves and call it quits while it’s still early…and an infatuation." I force my voice to be strong, even though I am torn up.

---