Here, in the remotest part of the world, where recreation was severely limited, that piece of metal on my finger allowed me to stay out of the way of lonely men and women. Everyone respected a married man. The fact that they didn’t know I was married to a man, not a woman, as I was sure everyone assumed, was of no consequence.
The moments ticked by slowly. The only sound was the ventilation system pushing air through the overhead vent in a low, continuous exhale. Through the small porthole of my clinic, Antarctic afternoon sunlight spilled onto the floor. I stared at the ocean. The surface was a deep blue. Ice chunks floated in loose, unhurried clusters, paying no attention to the turmoil inside my heart.
I could feel his presence in every cell of my body.
“Daniel.” His voice was closer, softer.
A lump formed in my throat. I blinked furiously. I knew what I had to do, but it hurt so badly to say it. Still, it was only the right thing to do. My heart beat frantically in my chest like it was fighting to get out and escape.
I opened my mouth, but the word annul just wouldn’t come out. God, I was such a coward. He was definitely waiting for me to say it, but I just couldn’t. I needed a bit more time.
Just a little more preparation to sever the connection that bound me to him.
I don’t know how long I stood like that, but eventually, I felt him move.
“I’m also here to present myself for your NASA study,” he said. “Was told you collect data on everyone.”
I almost wept in relief at having something to do. Without turning back, I told him, “Sit on the exam table, please. We will get both your clearance and my NASA exam done. It will take a bit longer, but I’ll make sure to get you out of here as soon as possible.”
I heard him hoist himself onto the examining table and mumble, “I’m not in a hurry.”
Snapping back into my professional mode, I quickly moved through my space. I hooked up the monitor and gathered my instruments on a tray. Finally, I turned around and faced him.
He was sitting with his hands loose on his thick thighs, looking like a slightly lost boy despite being the tallest man I had ever met. I knew he was nervous by the way his gaze darted around, the way he waited to see what I would do. Despite everything, I felt my heart immediately soften and a smile slip through. I walked up to him with my tray.
“Relax.”
“Can’t.” He chuckled, but it still wasn’t back to his usual carefree one. And that pained me more than all the crap I was experiencing. Reed not being his idiotic, smiling, joking self was just wrong. I needed to see that smile. I needed him to be okay.
“So, what are you going to do to me?” he asked, fidgeting.
I focused on peeling the backing from a small white rectangular packet. “First, I’m going to collect your baseline data. Next time you’re in, I’ll run more tests—that way, we can compare.”
“Sounds fun,” he said in a tone that made it sound anything but fun.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry. I remember your fear of needles.”
The explosion of breath from him and the way his entire body deflated had me chuckling. You would think he had been moments away from being beheaded.
“So no needles?”
“No needles.”
“What are these?”
“We need to measure your VO2 levels first.”
He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me in until I was standing between his legs. I gasped but just went with it, without any fight.
He leaned toward me. “Just VO2? How about measuring other things too?”
And there he was. My Reed was back. Well, not mine. He was, of course, not. I just meant my patient. Temporarily.
I could feel heat in my ears. They had surely turned pink, but still, I couldn’t help the smile that insisted on staying on my lips. I flicked his shoulder. “Shut up.”
I snapped on gloves, clipped the VO2 meter onto his finger, and took out a handful of small adhesive electrode pads, each one connected to a thin colored wire that trailed back toward the monitoring unit on the counter.
He watched me as I stood between his legs, our bodies close to each other, and peeled the backing off the first pad, holding it between my fingers. At 6’8”, Reed was so tall that even sitting on my exam table, I had to tilt my head up slightly to look at him.
