Cleo leaned over the back of Peter's chair and put her arms around him. "I'm going to bed," she announced seductively in his ear. "You gonna be long?"
Peter looked up from his surgical notes. "You go on up...I'll be up in a little while." He patted her gently on the cheek before returning to his writing.
Cleo straightened up and stared at the back of his head for a few seconds before heading upstairs.
It was over an hour later when she heard the door open. She stayed still in the bed and waited as she heard him undress. Finally she felt the bed dip as he climbed in and she rolled over to face him. "Hey Peter," she said as she idly traced the line of his arm. "I've been waiting for you."
Peter jumped at the movement. "I was trying not to wake you...I thought you were asleep."
"You mean you hoped I was asleep," said Cleo sourly.
"What?"
Cleo shook her head. "Forget I said anything." Moving her hand, she gently stroked Peter's bare chest. "You know...I'm not really that sleepy," she said seductively.
Peter carefully removed her hand. "I'm really tired Cleo...and I have a tough surgery scheduled for tomorrow. I need a good nights sleep."
"So that's tonight's excuse...is it?" asked Cleo, a note of anger in her voice. "What'll it be tomorrow, a busy day in surgery? A headache?"
"What are you talking about baby? I'm just tired."
"Do you know when was the last time we had sex?"
"Cleo, this isn't the time," said Peter sitting up in the bed.
"The night before I cut my hand. You haven't come near me in bed since I was exposed to AIDS."
"I've had a lot of things on my mind...work's been hectic what with Elizabeth out on leave. Plus we had another surgeon jump ship for another hospital. I've been working hard for the last few weeks...I'm not a machine. You can't expect me to do a twelve or fourteen hour shift and still come home and sleep with you."
"It's not just the sex...or the lack of it," replied Cleo, rolling over and facing away from him. "You've hardly touched me at all. Oh sure, you give me a quick peck on the cheek...or a hug before you go to work...but that's it. It's as if you can't bear to touch me...because you think I'm contaminated."
"Cleo," protested Peter. "You know that's not true..."
"Isn't it?" She turned around and he could see tears shining in her eyes. "Then prove it...hold me...touch me...kiss me like a lover and not a friend."
She could see the hesitation in his eyes.
"See?" said Cleo, getting out of the bed and pulling on her robe. "You're afraid to even touch me. Are you really that scared of getting infected? Shit, if this is what it's like when I've been exposed...what's it gonna be like if I *am* HIV positive?"
"We'll cope."
"How? We're not exactly coping now, are we? How are things gonna change if I am infected? Goddammit Peter...all I wanted was a little support...for you to put your arms around me...tell me that whatever happens you'll be there for me...but all you can think about is yourself."
"It's not like that," protested Peter. "I admit, I have been a little distant lately...and yes...I am concerned about being infected through you. But it's not just me I'm thinking about. Do you have any idea what Carla would do if I was infected? She'd reopen the custody battle and she'd use my HIV status to take Reese away from me. I can't risk that...he's my son...I won't let anything or anyone come between me and him."
"Are you sure you're not more concerned about not being able to be a surgeon if you're HIV positive?" asked Cleo quietly.
"There is that," admitted Peter. "But Cleo, you have no idea how important my work is to me..."
"And you think mine isn't? Do you really think that I can be a pediatrician if I'm HIV positive? Do you really think any parent will be happy to find out that the doctor they entrust their child to is infected with the virus?"
"I hadn't thought of that," said Peter, quietly.
"No...of course you hadn't...you were so caught up in your own problems...dammit Peter, *I'm* the one who could be infected here...I'm the one whose career could be over."
"It won't be like that," said Peter, moving over to her. "You can still be a good doctor...a good pediatrician. Not all parents will have a problem with it."
"Really," said Cleo in a neutral tone. "Is that why you wouldn't let me clean Reese's knee when he tripped and cut himself?"
Peter stood there, unable to respond.
"Get out Peter," said Cleo tiredly.
"What?"
"You heard me...get dressed and get out...I don't want you around me anymore."
"Cleo," said Peter, trying to put his arms around her. "Come on baby...you know you don't mean that."
"Please don't touch me," said Cleo, trying not to break down in tears. "Just go...it's obvious that you can't deal with this...well you don't have to anymore. But unfortunately I can't distance myself from it the way you've been trying to do for the past few weeks. But I can distance myself from you. And I'd rather deal with this alone...whatever the outcome...than have you around pretending that you care as much about me as you do your career. I'm on a double tomorrow, so you...you can call round then...get the rest of your things..."
"Cleo..."
"Goodbye Peter...it's over." She stood there like a statue until she heard him grab his clothes and leave the room. A few minutes later, she heard the front door open. It wasn't until she heard it close again that she threw herself on the bed and started sobbing.