Page 107 of Should the Sky Fall

“In what way?”

Right. No getting off easy.

“In the way that my husband is a control freak and a narcissist with alcohol addiction and used to take his frustration out on me.”

Ash doesn’t so much as blink, and that…that feels pretty damn good. Dawson’s shoulders have been tense with the expectation of pitying looks and sad eyes, but there’s none of that. Ash just…listens.

“You say ‘used to’. Has something changed?”

Listens and pokes around. Ugh.

“Everything.” Looking down at the plushie, Dawson hooks his finger in the hole in the donut, pulling on it playfully. “He was in a car accident a few weeks ago. He was in an induced coma for a few days and when he woke up, he didn’t remember anything.”

“Retrograde amnesia?”

“Fullretrograde amnesia,” Dawson corrects, not missing the first flicker of surprise in Ash’s face. “He doesn’t rememberanything.Didn’t know his name, where he was…” He shrugs. “Or who I was.”

“That’s a very unusual situation.”

“So I’ve been told.” Dawson chews on his lip, turning his attention back to the plushie. “The night of his accident, I had finally decided to ask for a divorce. I had the papers ready, packed my shit. I was going to leave. After all this time.” He shakes his head, letting out a derisive chuckle. “It clearly wasn’t meant to be. Guess some higher power really has it out for me.”

“Does it?” Ash asks. “From where I’m sitting, it sounds like the perfect opportunity to leave.”

A bubble of irritation begins to form in Dawson’s gut. “That’s what everybody says.”

“What do you say?”

Dawson fidgets, truly uncomfortable for the first time since he sat down. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be as easy as Ash was making it seem. “I couldn’t live with myself if I just left now. He was… He wasn’t a good person, but he doesn’t remember any of it.”

He was never under any illusion that Cal was a good guy. He knows the typical MO for victims of abuse, and while he definitely ticks plenty of boxes, making excuses for the person who abused him isn’t one of them. And yet, he never got brave enough to leave.

Because he’s messed up.

“His memory could come back,” Ash points out. It’s obvious he’s trying to get a rise out of Dawson.

“The doctors say it’s unlikely if it doesn’t start happening within the first couple of weeks. And the chances are almost zero if it doesn’t within the first month,” Dawson recites like an encyclopedia.

“But you didn’t know about that back then.”

Dawson’s fingers dig into the plushie. “There was no one to help him.”

“No family?”

“A younger brother. He flew over from Sydney, but… They’re in the same business and he’s drowning in work. I couldn’t throw that on him. He’s a good person.”

Ash hums thoughtfully. Dawson knows that whatever comes out of his mouth next, he’s not gonna like it.

He’s right.

“And you aren’t?”

Dawson clears his throat and eyes the empty glass mournfully. “I’d like to think I am. A good person helps other people.”

“Even those who hurt them?”

Dawson shoots Ash a glare. “Shouldn’t we all try to be better people than those who hurt us?”

Ash laughs, though Dawson doesn’t see anything funny. “Is that what they teach kids these days? That you’re good only if you put everyone else first?”