“I was following you,” he said, his voice laboured.
“Why?”
Clarke coughed. “To make sure nothing happened to you.”
Benjamin shook his head. “But how? I mean, how did you know where I was?”
“One night. I was down by the river. Being fucked. You were watching.” He coughed again, and paused. “I followed you. I didn’t know it was you…until… you walked under a…street light.” He stopped again. His breathing became more laboured.
“So you’ve been following me?”
Clarke nodded as best he could. His eyelids were beginning to flutter. “You know I…love you. Wanted to…look out for you. Didn’t want…anything… like this… happening…to you.”
Suddenly their time together flashed before Benjamin’s mind’s eye. The few occasions they’d spent drinking wine and chatting. That one time in the swimming pool. How had he not seen it? He could have easily turned their professional relationship into a physical one. It was Clarke who had kept his distance. Not him.