Although visiting ended officially at nine o’clock, they let me stay later. Sometimes I read a book while Pablo lay there staring at the ceiling. Each cycle of the treatment was scheduled to take two hours, but usually it took much longer. With the help of Patricia, I learned how to manipulate the drip and make it work faster. She warned me not to let anyone catch me touching it.

“What would Foscarnet and Gancyclovir do if they caught me?” I asked.

“Or The Duck? What would she do?” Pablo asked.

Patricia told us to keep our voices down. For the first week she was on night duty and a few times she came and sat with us when she was not busy. She was careful not to ask us any questions. When Gloria, the counselor, came to see if there was anything she could do for Pablo, she was surprised to see me. One morning, we told her the story of our relationship. I do not think that she had ever met two men who were in love with each other before. She was full of curiosity and amazement. When she asked too many questions about Pablo’s family, we had to tell her that we did not want to talk about it. We accused her of being in love with Doctor Cawley, and asked her to tell us what her fantasies about him were, but she giggled and refused and said that she did not fancy him at all. He wasn’t her type, she said.

“What about Foscarnet and Gancyclovir?” Pablo asked her.

I woke each morning feeling contented. I thought about what I would take with me to the hospital, what I would talk about when I arrived. After his first week on treatment, Pablo had to have minor surgery in his chest to have a line put in. He had asked Doctor Cawley how long the line would remain in place, and the doctor had told him it would be there for good. That, I think, had brought home to him like nothing else how bad things were. He would never be able to swim again, or walk around in shorts with no shirt. He was worried, too, about being cut open. I had to be careful not to make jokes all the time, to let him talk about how afraid he was, and how shocked he was, to let him dwell on his illness if he wanted. I realized that all this made me feel well by comparison. I could go out and have a cup of coffee, or I could go home at night. Pablo was the patient.