Page 147 of Should the Sky Fall

“Can you stay and hold me until I fall asleep?”

Cal closes his eyes. He doesn’t understand. How can Dawson want him here when…

His legs carry him forward of their own will. There’s no point in trying to resist, to stay away. He could never stay away from Dawson.

Not until he asks me to,a bitter voice inside his head says.

He switches the lamp off and lies on his back, slightly propped against the headboard, hopelessly trying to put some distance between them. It’s no use. Dawson lets out an amused huff, shuffling closer and draping himself over Cal, head on his chest and one of his legs thrown over one of Cal’s. A small sigh of satisfaction escapes his lips as he snuggles against Cal’s chest.

Instinctively, Cal pulls him closer, fingers threading through Dawson’s hair and pressing against his scalp. Dawson hums contentedly and burrows further into Cal’s chest.

“You make a good pillow,” Dawson mumbles sleepily. He’s probably not even aware of what he’s saying, but that doesn’t make it any easier to hear. Then it gets worse. “Wish I could stay like this forever. Sans the headache,” he chuckles softly, unaware that every word out of his mouth is like a knife slicing through Cal.

Cal’s vision blurs. When he blinks, a single tear escapes from the corner of his eye. He holds Dawson closer to him. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t trust his voice.

He always thought that when people in books describe heartache like someone reaching into their chest and crushing it with their fist, they are being overly dramatic. He doesn’t anymore.

Because that’s exactly what he feels like right now.

He waits until Dawson’s breaths even out and his hold on Cal relaxes enough that he can slip away.

He must have a masochistic streak he never knew about, because there’s no other reason for him to open that drawer again and take out the envelope.

Making sure Dawson is fast asleep, he leaves the room, shutting the door as quietly as possible. In the living room, he stares at the envelope in his hand for a long time before finding courage to open it again.

He slides the papers out slowly, naively hoping that his eyes were just playing tricks on him. Maybe when he looks at them now, they’ll be something else, and he can laugh about being so silly.

It doesn’t happen like that. The papers fall into his waiting palm, the dreadful words printed black on white, irrefutable.

Divorce agreement

How is this real? Why would Dawson want a divorce? They’re happy, aren’t they? Dawson seems happy. He was timid and withdrawn after Cal’s accident, but who wouldn’t be after finding out their husband forgot everything about them?

Could it be the drinking? Or because Cal worked so much? Dawson mentioned repeatedly that Cal used to spend all his time in the office, his life revolving around work. Maybe Dawson got fed up with it? But if that’s the case, why didn’t he tell him when Cal left the hospital? Why did he stick around?

Because he’s an amazing person and he didn’t want to leave you on your own.

Is that it? Did Dawson stay because he felt sorry for him?

Cal has to know. He won’t like the answer, but he can’t shove this under the rug and pretend he doesn’t know about it. He can’t live like that, always wondering if Dawson’s staying because he feels obligated to do so.

It will be a while before Dawson wakes, but Cal can’t wait that long. He needs…something. There’s only one person he can think of who could give him some answers.

Picking up his phone, he dials Ellis’ number.

Ellis picks up on the third ring. “Cal, hey.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Is it urgent?” Ellis asks, sounding distracted. “I’m quite busy.”

“Did you know Dawson wanted to apply for a divorce?”

There’s a long silence on the other side, followed by the sound of rustling papers and a chair moving across the floor.

“He told you,” Ellis says, surprise clear in his voice.

Cal stomach bottoms out. “You did know.”