The Research
WORKING UP the courage took Aaron a few days, but eventually he rang in sick to work, even though he knew Damon would have been angry with him, and drove the short distance to St Joseph’s where Damon had worked for the past ten years. It was raining the whole journey, the dull gray of the day matching Aaron’s mood. He took the lift to the fifth floor and headed for the ward.
He’d rarely visited the busy oncology ward where Damon worked, but he knew a few of the staff. As he waited by the nurses’ station, he hoped he’d see someone he knew, as they were permanently short-staffed and regularly used agency nurses.
“Aaron, what are you doing here?”
He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Peter Hill, one of Damon’s colleagues, coming toward him. Aaron smiled tentatively, not sure of reception he’d get after the news of Damon’s fake nursing career was made public.
“I needed to know if it was true. Did Damon fake all his qualifications?”
Peter looked around. “Not a good thing to talk about around here. The matrons are steaming. Meet me in the café on the second floor. I’ll see if I can get a break.”
“Okay. See you shortly.”
Aaron bought a black coffee and sat at one of the faux-pine tables waiting for Peter to join him. It was nearly half an hour before Peter slid into the chair opposite him.
“Sorry, we had a crisis just after you left.”
“If you need to be on the ward—” Aaron started.
Peter shook his head. “It’s fine. I told the sister I was talking to you. She’s anxious to find out what you know. We loved Damon, and we’re in shock. Damon’s the last person you’d expect to be a….”
He trailed off awkwardly, and Aaron nodded. He understood. He was still in shock too.
Peter sipped his tea and pulled a face. “I don’t know why I buy it. They make the tea like dishwater.” He gave Aaron a shrewd look. “I was going to ask how you’re doing, but it’s obvious.”
“That bad, huh?”
“That answers one question.”
“Which is?”
“Whether you knew about Damon.”
Aaron smiled at him sadly. “I thought I knew everything about him. Turns out I know nothing except his name. If it even was his name. Did you get any clue that Damon was a fake?”
“He was the best oncology nurse here. He was great with the patients, excellent with procedures. He knew about up-to-date research, better than some of the doctors.”
“Sounds almost too good to be true.”
Peter shook his head. “Now I say it out loud, yes, he does. We just thought we were really lucky to have him. Matrons fought handbags at dawn to get him into their departments.”
“I…. Do you know what happened?”
“He was in a serious accident and then he vanished. That’s what the police told us.”
“He coded. They pronounced him dead, yet three quarters of an hour later he gets up and walks out of A&E.”
“I spoke to one of the nurse at Paddy’s. It’s all over the hospital.”
“Why didn’t he come back to me?” Aaron whispered, so anguished that Peter caught his hand.
“Have you ever thought that maybe he can’t?”
“Why not?”
“Amnesia, maybe he’s ill elsewhere. Maybe someone’s holding him.”
Aaron snorted quietly. “Are you trying to make me feel better, because I have to say this approach isn’t working.”
Peter grinned at him, even if the grin was strained. “I guess it all sounds a bit melodramatic. I just want an explanation that makes sense. Damon was a logical person. He dealt with facts, not fanciful speculation. The one thing we all knew was that he loved you beyond anything. He wouldn’t have left you without a good reason.”
“Thank you,” Aaron said quietly. “I needed to be reminded of that fact.”
“So what are you going to do?” Peter asked.
“I don’t know yet. I can’t afford to keep the house on my wages, and I can’t get the life insurance as Damon obviously isn’t dead.”
“You’ve got some hard decisions ahead of you.”
Aaron swished around the last of the black coffee in his cup, now too cold to drink. “Yeah, and I can’t leave it too long.”
“Have you got any family?”
Aaron shook his head. “No, I was brought up in an institution.”
It wasn’t strictly true, but it usually stopped the questions.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Peter looked at the watch on his nurse’s uniform. “Damn, I’ve got to get back to the ward. Listen, call me if you hear anything. No matter what everybody’s saying, the ward loves Damon, and we want to know he’s all right.”
“If I hear anything,” Aaron promised, although he didn’t hold out much hope.
He got another coffee as Peter left the café. He had nowhere to be, but he did have a lot to think about.
BACK AT home, Aaron did a Google search for Damon Fox, but aside from a couple of celebrities, the results were thin on the ground. He couldn’t find any links to his husband. He frowned, knowing there had to be at least a few references to him. Damon had been in the local paper a couple of times when the ward had received new equipment, or some local bigwig had opened a new unit. He typed in possible references to the ward but drew a blank.
Neither of them had bothered with social media; they didn’t have anyone they wanted to connect with. Damon had been so scathing about such sites when Aaron had suggested it might be one way to make friends that Aaron had never raised the topic again. It wasn’t like he wanted his family to find him.
Damon’s rise from the dead and fraudulent behavior hadn’t made the local press, which was a little surprising, but Aaron could understand them wanting to keep it quiet. There was a lot of money and prestige invested in that unit. The last thing they needed was for it to dry up in the wake of a scandal.
Frustrated by his lack of progress, Aaron put the laptop aside and encouraged Ernest onto his lap. The cat kneaded Aaron’s thighs for a minute as he made himself comfortable, and then he settled down, purring happily. Aaron stroked behind his ears. “I don’t know what to do next, Ernie. Any ideas?”
Ernest stretched out his claws, yawned, and fell asleep.
Aaron sighed. Maybe the cat had the right idea.
“MMMM, YOU’RE back.” Aaron moaned contentedly as a warm body settled next to him.
Aaron hated it when Damon had to work late, and he spent the evening by himself. The house was so empty without the presence of his husband.
Damon murmured against Aaron’s neck, a whisper of what he wanted to do to Aaron, who sighed and rolled over onto his back, his body lax and willing for whatever his lover had planned for him.
Aaron didn’t make love to Damon. He’d never made love to Damon. Damon made love to him. Over the years Aaron had tried to take control, to love his man with the intensity that Damon showed him, but he knew that within minutes Damon would take over and he would be left gasping under Damon’s skilled hands and even more skilled mouth.
Aaron kept his eyes closed as Damon straddled his hips and swept his hands down Aaron’s body. Aaron wasn’t aroused, not yet, but he was on the way to being persuaded.
“Did you have a busy day?” he asked.
“As always. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to concentrate on you.”
Aaron hummed which ended in a gasp as Damon pinched his nipples. He arched up into the touch, his hands fluttering down Damon’s arms.
Damon teased him with touches until Aaron was hard and leaking, needing more than soft caresses. Then he maneuvered them so that they were on their sides, Damon sliding with slick cock into his welcoming body. Aaron let Damon lead, his eyes closed as Damon filled him, body and senses. Damon picked up the pace, driving them toward climax.
“Not going to let you go again,” Aaron whispered, holding onto Damon’s thigh.
Aaron opened his eyes, sobbing as he climaxed. He was on his own in his bedroom. Damon wasn’t there, had never been there. The sticky puddle of come beneath him was real, though, and it was going to get increasingly disgusting unless he got up and changed the sheet. He wept harder, harsh racking sobs that hurt his chest. He rolled over to the other side of the bed. Damon wasn’t there to nag him. He could drown in his own come and no one would care.
Aaron indulged in his pity party for a few minutes longer, but he reached the nagging feeling he had hit the crux of the matter. Their life together had been so exclusive no one would know or care if he was dead or alive. He had never needed more than Damon to make him fulfilled and happy, and Damon had focused his entire life on Aaron from the moment they met. Others, acquaintances, had commented that their life wasn’t healthy, but neither of them had cared. Faced with the reality of being on his own, Aaron had to concede maybe they had a point.
He rolled onto his back, trying to avoid the wet patch, and stared up at the projected figures from the alarm clock, the only light in the room. The numbers ticked by agonizingly slowly as Aaron thought long and hard about his situation.
As the light in the room changed from darkness to dawn, Aaron managed to catch a last hour of sleep.