Page 150 of Should the Sky Fall

Dawson’s throat works, his lips trembling. “I am. Iamhappy, Cal.”

“Now?” Dawson nods. “And before?” Dawson looks away. “Tell me.”

“You were…different,” Dawson starts. It’s too vague to give Cal any clues, but he doesn’t want to interrupt now that Dawson finally started talking. “You had a temper and when you’d get stressed, you’d drink.” He picks on a loose thread of his joggers, his hands unsteady. “And when you’d drink, you’d get…”

Pinpricks of ice spread through Cal’s veins. “I’d get what, Dawson?”

Dawson’s eyes flick up and he speaks quietly. “Mean.”

Cal swallows. “Verbally?”

A pause. “Yes.”

“Just verbally?” Another headshake, so miniscule Cal would miss it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of Dawson. His stomach turns with what he’s about to ask next. “Did I hit you?”

After a small eternity, Dawson lets out a shaky “Yes.”

Closing his eyes, Cal asks, “More than once?”

Dawson doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. The rigid line of his shoulders and the way he’s curling in on himself tells Cal everything he needs to know.

He stands up, his back to Dawson. His fists clenching and unclenching, and he fights the urge to punch something, preferably himself.

Something snaps inside him, a realization filling him with dread.

“Cal?” Dawson calls out. The fear in his voice makes Cal want to turn around and take Dawson into his arms where nothing could hurt him.

You hurt him.

“They’re not dreams, are they?”

“What?” Dawson says, confused.

Cal turns around, hating the fear in Dawson’s face. Hating himself for putting it there.

“All those times when I saw you hurt. Crying. They were never dreams.” He looks at Dawson and sees the truth. An overwhelming feeling of powerlessness slams into him, choking him. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you stay, after everything?”

Dawson could’ve left. Heshould’veleft. Forget all about Cal and go live his life. He wasn’t supposed to get saddled with him, pretend that he wasn’t breaking inside while Cal lived in blissful oblivion.

“You needed me.” Dawson says it like the question confuses him. Like even thinking about leaving Cal to his own devices is unthinkable.

And it occurs to Cal…it probably is. For Dawson, it is. Because that’s who he is. This wonderful, selfless, most amazing person with a heart of gold who wouldn’t leave anyone behind even if it meant being miserable for the rest of his life.

Not on Cal’s watch.

“Where are you going?” Dawson asks, panicked, when Cal goes to the door. How he can still want Cal near him is beyond him.

“I just need to think.” Not that there’s much to think about. He knows what he needs to do. “You should rest.”

He leaves the bedroom before his resolve breaks. The first thing he does is pull out his phone and call Ellis again.

“Cal?”

“How could you not tell me?” Cal hisses, anger bubbling inside him.

“I didn’t know until recently. He told me the night of your accident—"

“Two months?! You’ve known for two months, and you let him stay with me?!”