The wheezing sound that might have been mistaken for a hyena trying to draw breath was actually Mark's version of a wolf-whistle. Josh valiantly resisted the urge to club him over the head with the nearest heavy object to make it stop.
"Well," Mark deadpanned, eyeing Emery's bedroom, "you didn't go overboard at all."
Looking at the pile of new things that had accumulated in the room, Josh had to admit he might have skipped over 'a few necessities' straight into 'stress shopping' territory.
He'd gotten all new furniture for the room, in clean sleek lines that he knew Emery would enjoy. He'd have preferred to have Emery choose it himself, but he knew the man; if given the choice he wouldn't have let Josh spend a single dime on his behalf.
He'd gotten him a high-end phone with a good data plan and an equally high-end laptop. A few clothes: comfortable ones to sleep in and stylish ones — though still a far cry from the tailored shirts and suits he'd once worn — to wear whenever he felt like it. Slippers and shoes; a toothbrush and an electric shaver. A Kindle in case he wanted to read in bed; headphones for privacy. A flat-screen TV. A soundbar for said TV. A smartwatch for his phone and a mouse for his laptop; a laptop tray for when he didn't feel up to sitting at his desk. The list went on.
"So," Mark continued, "you've finally managed to make a dent in the inheritance you didn't want. Is your conscience appeased now?"
Neither the words nor the slightly despairing tone were what Josh had expected Mark's reaction to be. He opened his mouth to deny it then closed it again, deflated. "Damn it. How is it you can see through what I'm doing even before I can?"
Mark gave him a pitying smile and patted him on the back. "You didn't realize? Really? You've barely touched that money since you got it — money that, I should add, the woman clearly wanted you to have —, and now her brother shows up and you spend a small fortune in a week?"
"I didn't think... In my defense, he's going to be stuck in this bedroom for a long time," Josh argued weakly.
"Josh."
Uh-oh. He hated it when Mark's voice turned calm and collected outside of work. It never bode well. "What?"
"You didn't do anything wrong. The woman liked you enough that she left you money in her will. What's wrong with that?"
Josh threw him a baleful glare. "Don't give me that. How would you feel if a terminal patient named you in their will after you were the one to treat them?"
"I'm a doctor." Mark used that as a shield sometimes. "The potential for abuse is different—"
"Is it? Is it really? I was with her every day for the last eight months of her life. I like to think I made those months much better than they would have been without me, but I didn't do it out of the kindness of my heart — I was offering a service." He walked further into Emery's bedroom if only so he could pace. "I got paid for that service. Obscenely well in her case."
"And she knew that," Mark retorted placatingly.
"Does that mean I'm in the clear, then?" He hadn't realized how much he still agonized over it. It was as if Mark had opened the floodgates and now everything Josh had kept bottled up came flowing right out. "The first thing I tell people is that I'm not a doctor, or a nurse, or a shrink, or a priest, but sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be better if I were. You have ethics commissions and review boards and whatever else to keep you honest. I answer to no one. If I don't keep myself accountable no one will. And that's supposed to make it better?"
"Josh." Mark stepped in front of him to keep him from pacing. "How many people have named you in their wills over time?"
"I don't know. A lot."
"And how many of those did you actually accept?"
Josh exhaled. He knew what Mark was hinting at, but it didn't make him feel particularly better. "Just Emma. Usually the families are more than relieved when I say I don't want to keep it. Emery had to go and be a stubborn ass about it. And it was a lot of money."
"So the one time you caved and accepted money was from someone who was of sound mind, was not easily manipulated, had no one in particular who would benefit from it, and with the enthusiastic agreement of her next-of-kin to boot. Who would have taken that money if you'd turned it down? Hall? At that point wouldn't that have been like bequeathing a grain of sand to someone who owned a desert?"
"I know all that, but... It doesn't mean it feels right. And she wanted to be able to take care of Emery if something happened to his firm. Being named an heir, it... Isn't it just wrong?"
Mark smiled. "If it were a common practice I'd be very concerned. But this isn't a general situation, this is you; I know you. I know you wouldn't have taken advantage of anyone. Didn't you say she was highly intelligent?"
"She was brilliant. Mensa-level brilliant." Josh found points of connection with each of his clients, and he always missed them once they were gone; he refused to work with anyone with whom he didn't click. Despite all that, Emma had left a deeper mark. He missed her acerbic wit and lack of patience for fools something fierce sometimes. And he knew what she'd say of his moral conundrum.
"There you have it. A brilliant woman, of sound mind, with a millionaire for a brother and no other next-of-kin, decided to leave you her money. There's nothing to feel guilty about. Buying him everything you can carry just so you'll have less of what you think of as her money in your bank account isn't taking care of him, and it isn't what his sister would have wanted, I'm sure."
"I wish he'd just accept it back."
"Well, you're the one who knows him. What are the odds of that happening?"
"About the same as the odds of Hell freezing over."
"Then work with what you have." Mark could make anything sound reasonable when he put his mind to it. "I'm not even mad you want to take care of the guy anymore, not after seeing his medical records. And clearly she'd have liked that, so let that be what appeases your overactive sense of righteousness. Just don't fall in love with the man again."
Josh looked away and said nothing, which turned out to be a mistake.
"Josh?" Mark waited until their eyes met. "Are you still in love with him?"
The question hit him like a ton of bricks. It was the one thing Josh had been trying not to think about for the past week, and not because he didn't already know the answer. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it away from his face. "It doesn't matter either way."
Mark held his gaze without judgment. "It doesn't matter? Isn't that the only thing that matters?"
"No." One syllable answers wouldn't help his case, but he had as much right to be childish as anyone else.
"No you don't love him, or no it doesn't matter?"
He sighed. "No, it doesn't matter. I can't forgive him. I can want to help him, I can want to see him healthy and happy and well, but I can't forgive him, no matter how much I care."
Mark exhaled. "What is it with this guy, anyway? Why couldn't you have been hung up on Brian?"
That was a surprising analogy. "I lived with Brian for four years; how much more hung up on him could I have been?"
"This may come as a shock to you, but people tend to be a bit more heartbroken when their relationships come to an end than you were."
"He had an incredible career opportunity in Australia. What do people do in that situation, chain their boyfriends to the foot of the bed?" He was going to throttle Mark sooner or later if he didn't wipe that patronizing look off his face.
"People discuss said career opportunities. They contemplate moving with their significant others, or trying to make it work long distance. If they figure none of that will work out they'll at least feel sad for a while. What they don't do is go 'oh, wow, that's excellent for you. When are you moving out?' I felt really sorry for him, and for you it was all business as usual."
"It wasn't that I wanted him to go," Josh said, sheepishly.
"No," Mark agreed, "it was just that you didn't care one way or the other. And that's always been the case with you. Even supposedly serious relationships don't faze you. So what's so different about this guy that you still can't get him out of your head?"
"I..." He didn't even know how to begin explaining it. "I don't know. I guess... With Brian, I always knew we'd end up having a thing. He was exactly the kind of man I usually go for, I could tell it was mutual, I was ready for that. Emery isn't my type, and on top of that he was my boss. I never expected to feel anything for him. He just kind of snuck up on me."
Mark leaned back against the wall, giving Josh back his space. "And then he went and ruined it."
"Pretty much, yes. Even that... There's a tragic backstory behind it all. Emma told me the details, it's like a horrible B series movie plot, but he lived it. I just don't think one thing justifies the other."
"Not knowing the tragic backstory I can't speak to that, but what he said to you—"
"Was unforgivable. So whatever I may feel for him doesn't matter in the end. I'm sorry to disappoint, but you won't get to punch me in the face."
"I suppose I'll take it. Now, how about that lunch?
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