It's water under the bridge. He'd just moved back for a while to sort out a new living arrangement after a bad break up when this thing first started.
They won't test him because he has no symptoms and the women were on a separate floor. They haven't even said he should self-quarantine, but he's nervous for us.
It probably has to do with the fact that they're still ramping up on the number of test kits.
He has his own part of the house, with a separate entrance; it's really almost an apartment except that there's only a bar and microwave, no kitchen, so he's staying to himself. Of course, I'll bring food to the door.
If I were still a practicing Catholic, I'd say: God's will be done.
As it is, I'm trying not to think about the possibilities and stay as cheerful as possible.