Basket with flowers

The waiting seemed to be prolonged. He arrived late – I think it was past 10 o’clock in the evening. I came down to meet him in front of the clinic. He took a white basket with beautiful red roses out of the car. There were 27 of them, the same as my age.
We met the doctor while walking up the stairs, he smiled and asked her “How is S.?”
We entered the room and I told him to sit on the chair, while I sat on the edge of the bed. Even despite trying to look calm, horrible restlessness was eating me from the inside. I gave him a glass of water and I didn’t wait any longer…
“I had quite a disturbing day – various test, waiting for results and what not. But it was nothing compared with the two big shocks I experienced. The first one was that I am positive! … And the second – this was the moment I started to cry – is that I may have infected you too.”
Still unaware of I was talking about, he stood up and hugged me. I hugged him back, pressing my head on his stomach. He asked me what was I talking about.
“HIV! – I murmured, sobbing – When I found out about me, I didn’t cry at all… but when I faced the thought of you possibly being infected, I couldn’t recuperate any longer.”
In all that agony, I was amazed by the courage with which he faced the news. He came by next morning to give a blood sample for an HIV test. We saw each other shortly and we could only wait, hoping for the unlikely. He came back that afternoon and told me to go down to the day care centre. He appeared calm. "We’ll get treated together!" – he said, smiling. I couldn’t hold back the tears, the last tears shed for this experience.