Chapter 11

Back at home, I made coffee; Mark said he didn’t feel like eating anything.

“There’s a lot to think about,” he began.

I put the mug of coffee I’d been holding on the table and brought my stool next to his.

“If I’d have had the test at the doctors, they would have been legally bound to report a positive result on any mortgage applications, life insurance, medicals, that kind of thing. If I have a test at the clinic they would have to write to me before passing on those details to anyone, and John said they would never write to me. Mind you, I didn’t give our address so they couldn’t even if they wanted to.”

I nodded and made a noise of agreement.

“Because of what I had to do,” Mark swallowed, “my chances of having the virus are increased.” He sniffed. “I want to know. Despite there being no treatment, I still want to know if I’m going to die.”

“Oh, Mark.” I pulled him toward me.