Utterly Forgettable | MM Romance | Complete

Five: Why Didn't You Come To Me?

He didn't seem to have noticed Josh's arrival, even though the room was tiny past the double doors; Josh forced himself to keep a neutral tone. "Hey," he offered, his breath warm and moist inside the mask. "Mark said you wanted to see me?"

Emery turned, surprise evident in his expressive brown eyes. He was wearing a mask of his own, a nasal cannula supplying him with oxygen without hindering his speech. "That was fifteen minutes ago. I rather thought it'd take you longer than that to get here."

Josh held his gaze. "I was in the waiting room."

"Still? I thought I told you to go home." His haughtiness was doing a poor job of concealing the tumultuous look in his eyes, even before he had a coughing fit.

"You did. It's been a couple of years since you were the boss of me, though, so don't take it personally that I didn't obey."

Josh had hoped to coax a bit of laughter, a hint of a smile, out of him, but whatever information Emery was holding on to didn't seem to allow room for humor. A spike of icy dread went through him. What could Emery's diagnosis be that had him so devastated?

"They're still waiting on the lab results, but... They believe I have tuberculosis. They believe it strongly enough that they're already treating me for it." Emery lowered his gaze then willed it back up, to meet Josh's eyes. "And that means I may have passed it onto you." His fingers clenched around the edge of the bedsheet, knuckles going white. "I cannot... Words can't express the depth of my regret. I shouldn't have set foot in your house, Josh."

Josh's chest expanded, making him realize how hard it had been to breathe before. TB wasn't a trifle, but Emery's posture had had him picturing one terrifying scenario after another. After being best friends with Mark for so many years, he knew better than to think of TB as this terrifying entity — or even as a very contagious one. TB was manageable; TB was curable. Emery would be okay. "How are you feeling? How long before the test results come in?"

"Another day, I think. But you won't be tested for another four weeks. Your friend will explain better, I'm sure, but I... Josh, I'm so very sorry." He hung his head, focusing on an invisible point on the floor.

"Sorry for what?" Josh asked, voice gentle yet thick with the weight of Emery's reaction. "Being sick? That's not exactly your fault, is it?"

Once more Emery's eyes snapped up to meet his. "Didn't you hear me? You might be... You shaved me. You bathed me."

Josh hoped there was a chair he could pull up, to be able to sit at eye-level height with Emery, but there was none in the room, nor would there have been room for one to begin with. He smiled softly, forgetting for a moment that not only was his mouth hidden behind the mask, but also that Emery wouldn't be able to see the expression in his eyes without his glasses. "I did. And I'm not sorry I did it. For what it's worth, I don't think you infected me. But if I test positive I'll be treated, just like you. We'll both be fine, Emery."

"You're not— " Emery shook his head, incredulous. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I went to your home. I'm sorry you've been dragged into my problems."

Josh wanted to place a hand on Emery's shoulder, but the best he could do without Emery protesting was to not break eye contact. "Dragged? Hardly. I like to think I skipped and hopped merrily to them of my own free will."

"Josh, I..." One more shaky exhale, but if the anguish in Emery's eyes had abated the slightest bit or if Josh was seeing what he wanted to see was anyone's guess. "I know it's hypocritical of me to even ask this of you. I know I have no right, not after I refused to let you come in with me, but... It'll be almost a month before you get tested. If I call, will you tell me? Please. I need to know if I infected you."