Love
She loved him dearly with every little bit of her heart. His smile; his eyes; his laugh; his frown; his everything. Angela was hopelessly enamored with Chase, and she knew it'd never change - never, ever, ever.
She knew he loved her too. He was kind to her, he defended her, he joked around with her, and he told her she was adorable. She caught his gaze lingering on her face many a time at the bar, and when she smiled and told him so he'd always look away and blush, or deny it vehemently. He took her to festivals, he danced with her when Hayden turned on the radio, and he kissed her on the nose, making her cross her eyes, and then he'd laugh and ruffle her hair.
He never actually said "I love you", but she was sure. She saw it in his eyes, felt it in his touch, and sometimes when she fell asleep in his arms, in limbo between consciousness and the dream world, she thought she heard him whisper it. He held her when she cried and he drew a smile on her pancakes with maple syrup.
If that wasn't love, she didn't know what love was.