Page 81 of Insufferable Boss

I didn't want to speak about Kane in the car, given that our driver was company staff, but the moment we got back home, and I was seated on the sofa, I couldn't hold back any longer.

"Kane asked me to make things official today," I said, and she stopped what she was doing.

She turned around to stare at me from the cinnamon tea she was making for us in the kitchen, and I nodded to confirm that she hadn't misheard me.

.

"What?" she asked.

"Yeah."

After putting the kettle on, she hurried over to me and sat on the couch. She stared at me, and I stared back, yet I was reluctant to speak. I wasn't sure exactly why, though perhaps it was because I wasn't feeling too well and was just generally exhausted. But she wasn't going to let the admission go, and I didn't want her to anyway because somehow, I needed to make sense of it.

"You don't want to say anymore?" she asked, and I nodded.

"I do, I just don't know what to say or how to feel. I haven't even responded to him yet, and I should have, right? I mean, I should have been excited by the very prospect and relieved, but I just felt foggy. A lot happened today. Dylan is trying to leave, or he's left, and he's transferring equity, and all of it was just a lot to take in."

She nodded and I could see immense relief in her eyes.

"I could tell from earlier," she said, "that you were extremely exhausted."

"Yeah?" I asked, and I nodded.

"So, we won't talk about any of it tonight any longer. Maybe after a good night's sleep, things will be clearer. Plus, I'm here until Sunday, so there's no rush."

"Yeah," I said. "Thank you. I’m glad to have you here, though, just the perfect distraction."

She got up then to return to the kitchen, while my gaze returned to the TV, but I couldn't register anything that was playing. It was all just moving pictures and sound as I felt more and more nauseous.

"I found a tuna sandwich in here," she suddenly called out. "I'm gonna warm up a bit for myself. Those pizza slices were not filling. Do you want some?"

I started to picture them, feeling a bit hungry myself, and just like that, the nausea hit, and this time much harder than before. I was sprinting from the living room like I was on fire and retching like I was about to spill out my guts. Thankfully, it was dry, but then the moment I got to the bowl, it was as though my body registered that I could let loose, and for the second time that evening, I was spilling my guts into the toilet.

It seemed to take forever, and when I was done, I could barely hold myself up. Diana ran into the bathroom then, and upon seeing my dejected face, hers turned white.

"Okay," she said. "It's either you're really sick or..."

She stopped and I knew what she was about to say... what I had suspected all along but refused to even give a single thought to. I didn't deny it either way or put words or a voice to it, so I ignored her and spat one more time into the toilet bowl and then flushed.

"I'm fine," I said and tried to get up on my own to prove just that, but she refused, insisting on helping me.

I accepted her help so as not to make a big deal about things, plus I truly believed I needed it anyway.

We walked back to the living room together, and after helping me get back onto the couch, she sat back down beside me.

We were silent for a while, and then she asked.

"Does the smell bother you?"

"No," I replied. "I don't think it was the smell."

After this, she was silent again, and it truly began to bother me, so I turned to her and gave her a look.

"I'm not going to argue with you," she said, and I sighed.

I didn't want to argue as well, so I kept silent as well.

"Maybe it's just the flu," she said, and I agreed.

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