Chapter 5
Daniel
I’d always known I was drawn to men. Growing up in a hippie family in sunny California, I was supposed to embrace all that. My parents wanted me to express my feelings freely and be “in touch with my soft side.”
Tough luck.
I was wired differently. I’d rather die than admit anything to anyone.
Being the station doctor here at Waypoint Research Station had been the perfect escape. Here, I was untouchable. Everyone respected me and didn’t dare try to be chummy with me. I knew everyone’s secrets, after all.
During late nights in our dorm, Viktor often confessed how he felt about Sam. He just didn’t realize how much I actually related to him, how much I understood what it was like to fall in love and know that it was never going anywhere.
And now it was clear to everyone what kind of man I was.
I should have annulled the marriage long ago.
And yet here I was, walking along the dock of our station, alone under the twilight of the Antarctic night sky.
The dock planks were slick under my shoes, a thin rime of moisture coating the wood from the afternoon melt.
Below, the water was black and still, small chunks of brash ice knocking softly against the pylons.
I rubbed a hand over my forehead. Headaches were a rarity for me, but I felt a massive one coming.
Why, for fuck’s sake, was I such a coward when it came to him?
Just open my damn mouth and be done with it.
It was only paperwork.
Men like Reed were free spirits. He broke Guinness records as a side hobby. Why did my heart think I was somehow the exception?
I walked aimlessly along the boardwalks connecting the various buildings. The cold air hit my skin like needles through my starched white shirt. I had no time to grab a parka. I didn’t even have proper outdoor shoes on. Another gust of wind cut straight through my thin shirt.
I shivered.
Where could I go? I had just left the main building, but I couldn’t go into the R&R building either. There were people everywhere.
My gaze landed on the outcrop of smaller buildings at the edge of the station area. One of them was the workshop.
Perfect.
There would be no one there except the station carpenter, and I knew Garrett was a man of few words.
I kept walking, rocks and ice crunching under my shoes, slipping at one point where the path dipped but catching myself on the red metal railing before finally pushing through the workshop’s open door, which was propped open even on a cold night like this.
“Garrett?” I called out. I wasn’t in a mood to socialize, but in a space like this, I didn’t want to surprise a guy either, especially one who might be wielding some monster tool straight out of a horror movie.
The garage was a vast single-story structure with a high ceiling and thick walls, the kind of space that swallowed sound. The air smelled of machine oil and sawdust.
I walked past the enormous cutting stations that lined one wall, searching for Garrett. Larger precision machines occupied the center of the floor. Their housings were thick and industrial, the kind of equipment that could shape metal or timber to exact specifications.
“Doctor Park?” Garrett’s grizzled face appeared from behind a station at the far end of the workshop. He looked shocked. I had never ventured into this place before. It was always others who came to me in my clinic.
Behind him, carpentry tools hung in rows on pegboards—chisels, clamps, hand planes arranged by size. I carefully stepped over the wood shavings curled on the concrete floor and made my way to him.
“What are you doing here at this hour? And where’s your parka?” He wiped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve, holding a giant saw-like thing, exactly as I had feared.
“Uh.” I cleared my throat. This was awkward. “Can I take shelter for a few minutes?”
“Shelter?” His thick eyebrows rose high.
“There’s… someone out there.” I gestured vaguely toward the workshop entrance. “If you see someone big and huge, could you just… I just need a place to hide.”
He blinked at me in confusion and looked at the entrance, then back at me.
“Like a yeti?”
“Well, he’s from Australia,” I muttered.
“An Australian yeti?” he asked incredulously.
I snorted a laugh despite everything.
“No.” I sighed. “Just a man.”
He straightened up to his full height, and his nostrils flared. “What the heck? Who the hell would be after you, Doc? I’m gonna put him in his place.” He lifted the heavy guillotine-like machine and started marching toward the entrance.
“No, no.” I ran after him. The last thing I needed was a Texan farmer-turned-carpenter and an Australian outback hand-turned-pilot duking it out.
“Stop, Garrett. That’s not it. I know him.”
He turned to me. “What’s goin’ on, Doc?”
“You know the pilot who responded to my medevac?”
“Yeah.”
“He and I… we’ve got some past to sort out. Look, can I please just stay here for a while? My head is a mess.”
His expression softened. “Of course, sir. Here, let me clear some space. I didn’t know you would be visiting.”
“I didn’t either,” I replied under my breath.
He got busy clearing boxes and making a small place for me to hide, like the coward I was.
“Here,” he gestured to me. “Take all the time you want.”
“Thanks, Garrett.”
He hesitated for a moment, but he wasn’t the kind to pry. He left briefly, only to come back with a parka and a cup of hot coffee.
“Here. You’re freezing, Doc.”
I accepted the parka gratefully and then sat down heavily on the boxes that served as a bench. The coffee warmed my frozen fingers as I stared out at the open ocean through the workshop entrance.
God, what an awful disaster.
***
“Daniel?”
I started, spilling hot coffee on myself. I hadn’t heard him coming.
Reed stood a little distance away at the garage entrance, his posture hesitant.
Like he was approaching a cornered animal.
What a pathetic image I had created for myself.
I put the coffee down, wiped my hands with a rag, and stood up.
Garrett was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t want him witnessing my sad story anyhow.
I plastered on a smile for Reed. “Hey, sorry. I needed a moment, but I’m ready.
Let’s do it. We can annul the marriage now.
I will fill out the paperwork inside, and then you can be a free man again.
” He opened his mouth, but I soldiered on without giving him time to respond. “This ring comes off too. Let’s go.”
I turned around and started walking, not waiting for him. I just needed to get this done, and then I’d find a way to cope. Maybe take that time off that I’d been due for over five years. I left the workshop behind and headed toward the main building where my clinic was.
I heard Reed inhale sharply behind me, followed by the sound of running boots. “No!” He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “Never,” he said. “This won’t ever come off.” He lifted my hand and kissed the ring.
My eyes went wide. “What? What do you mean? Don’t you want it annulled?”
Reed shook his head vehemently. He took my face in his hands and stared into my eyes.
He didn’t look like a man wanting to end a marriage.
He looked like a desperate man trying to keep his head above water on a sinking ship.
I watched him work his throat. Whatever he was trying to say didn’t seem easy.
“Reed?”
He closed his eyes, swore under his breath, and pulled me into his chest, wrapping me in a crushing hug.
I stood like a statue in his embrace, confused and hopeful and undecided. From that deep corner inside my soul where I’d buried all my dreams and feelings, I felt something burst open. My throat felt tight, like I was choking, and my eyes burned.
I wanted to ask about the missing ring. Why didn’t he wear it anymore? Why didn’t he wait for me after we were back on U.S. soil after that disastrous night? Why didn’t he try to contact me all this time?
But the hug and the way he was fighting himself meant something. I couldn’t remember Reed being this conflicted. Or this emotional. I waited for him to get his emotions under control. Meanwhile, I could enjoy this gift of a hug.
I wrapped my hands around him and let the moment be.
The shrill beep of my pager rang through the quiet night air. I fumbled in my trouser pocket and hit the silence button. On the display, it read:
'Urgent staff meeting in lounge. Report in 5 minutes - Chief'
I re-read it. That was odd.
“What is it?”
I held the pager up to Reed.
“Any idea what this is about?” he asked.
“No.” I frowned at the pager in my hand. “August doesn’t call all-staff meetings. Not without warning.”
We walked back toward the main building together, Reed falling into step beside me. He held the door open, and I stepped inside. Before I could move further down the corridor, he stopped me. I looked up at him and was a bit startled to find a storm of emotions brewing in his blue eyes.
“What’s wrong? Do you—”
I inhaled sharply, my gasp cut short by Reed’s mouth on mine.
The kiss caught me completely by surprise. It was hungry, hard, and tasted of coffee. Reed pulled me with him into the small alcove by the side of the corridor, where rows upon rows of heavy winter gear hung.
The entryway doors to the building opened, and I heard voices. Reed seemed to hear nothing. I heard footsteps coming down the corridor, but instead of pushing him away, I gripped him tight and deepened the kiss, my mouth taking everything he was offering.
Our tongues slid against each other, hot and heavy as desire slammed into me.
Reed pulled away, panting, his eyes wild, and before I could say another word, he pulled me farther inside the alcove, behind a floor-to-ceiling column.
We shed our parkas frantically, letting them drop to the floor in a heap.
The voices came closer, and two men entered the alcove, shedding their parkas and discussing why August had called the meeting. I stared back at Reed. They were right there! If they took a few more steps, they would see us.
Reed didn’t move, though. He pinned me to the column, caging my body with his. The two men kept talking while I stood there with my heart in my throat, but also a thrill running through my body.
Reed raised an eyebrow at me. I knew what he was asking. Should he stop?
I flushed deeply and shook my head.
No, don’t stop.