Page 13 of Should Our Stars Collide

“Okay, fine. Have it your way.”

“What are you doing?” Dawson asks, alarmed, when Kieran starts digging through his closet.

“I realized I don’t need to know what happened.”Ha! Here it is!“The fucker’s going down one way or another.” With his best impression of theJoker, Kieran spins around, victoriously presenting the baseball bat he’s been keeping around for an occasion like this.

And just like magic, Dawson starts talking. Well, he mumblessomething about Cal remembering the past, which Kieran takes to mean that he’d shown his true colors and reverted back to his abusive, asshole self. Shocker. As if Kieran hadn’t called it.

After that, Dawson crawls into Kieran’s bed without asking if the sheets are fresh—they aren’t—and dozes off with Donut curled up against his chest.

Kieran considers grabbing the bat and paying Cal a visit anyways, just to let off some of the steam that’s built up over the years, but decides jail wouldn’t agree with him. He’s such a klutz, he’d drop the soap on the first day.

Whatever. The important thing is Dawson got away.He finally got away!And he came to Kieran.

Everything’s gonna be okay now.

“What the fuck do you mean you went back?!”

Three. Days. All it took was three days for Dawson to forget about what made him leave in the first place and go back to Cal. Three. Fucking. Days. Kieran never should’ve gone to work and left him alone. He never should’ve listened when Dawson insisted he was fine.

There’s a sigh on the other side of the line. “Kieran?—”

“You’ve been a fucking mess these past three days! You were a mess this morning! And I leave for a few fucking hours and you fucking go back?!”

“It’s not like that. I didn’t plan to do this behind your back.”

Yeah, right. “So what groundbreaking information could you have possibly got that suddenly erased everything that made you not leave the bed for days?!”

There’s a long stretch of silence where Kieran can only hear his own fuming breaths.

“It’s complicated.”

“Are you fucking shitting me right now?”

“Kieran—”

“Get out. Get out of there right now, or so help me?—”

“Kieran!” Dawson snaps, as if Kieran is overreacting. “It’s okay. I’m okay, I promise. It was all just a big misunderstanding.”

Dear god. All those therapy sessions with Mr. Asshole, and Dawson never even came across the termgaslighting. Fucking figures. It’s all a scam.

“Kieran?”

At the sound of his name, Kieran’s eyes snap open. When did he close them? And why is his vision all blurry?

“Hey, Dee…” he starts once he finds his voice. “Can you promise me something?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Fuck, he hates this, but it’s the best he can do. Dawson will never listen to him. “You’ll come to me. You’ll always come to me wh— if something happens.”

He hears Dawson’s shaky exhale first, followed by a fragile, “I promise. But?—”

“You promised,” Kieran cuts in, not interested in any more excuses. “Remember that you promised.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay.” He hangs up first.