Page 182 of Should the Sky Fall

Dawson turns around. “Remember what?”

This is it. This is the moment. Cal can still turn back, he doesn’t have to tell him. He can keep the secret. He can still have Dawson.

But it would be a lie.

“Everything. Who I…who I was before the accident.”

Color drains from Dawson’s face. “What?”

Cal goes on before he loses resolve. “The memories came back in flashes after I collapsed.” He clenches his hands so they don’t shake. “I’m so sorry, Dawson. If I’d known, I’d have told you in the beginning. I swear, I had no idea.”

“What are you talking about?”

He takes a step forward, considering it a small victory when Dawson doesn’t immediately take one back. “I know this will be hard to believe. But I need you to listen to me, okay? I’m not who you thought I was. I’m not your husband. I’m not the person who put you through hell. I’m not even human.”

“You’re not human,” Dawson echoes, voice flat.

“I mean, I am now, I guess. But before, I was a harvester, or what people would call a reaper. My job was to collect souls when it was time for them to pass on. And Caledon, he was assigned to me. I followed him around until it was time for him to go. But when I saw those horrible things he did to you, I couldn’t just stay away. I should’ve, but I couldn’t. So, when his time came, and I reaped his soul…I took over his body. I didn’t know if it would work, if his body was strong enough to contain me, but I had to try. I had to try because I fell in love with you.”

The last few words are barely legible, his voice quakes so bad. The silence that follows is deafening, and it takes one look at Dawson to know everything is over. There’s no coming back from this.

Cal lost him.

“Oh my god,” Dawson says, and this time he does take a step back. “Oh my god.”

“Dawson.” Cal tries to go after him but freezes when he sees contempt in his expression.

“Why are you doing this? What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything. I would’ve told you sooner if I’d remembered, but I didn’t until—”

“Stop it,” Dawson says. “Just stop it. Are you listening to yourself?”

“I know how this sounds—”

“Do you?” Dawson hisses. “Because it sounds like you’re either deliberately messing with me, fucking with my head like you always used to—”

“I’m not—”

“—or you actually believe the stuff you’re saying and that’s…” He laughs, but there’s nothing nice about it. “That’s a whole new kind of fucked up. If you’re trying to make yourself feel better about the shit you did by fabricating some make-believe story about reapers and body possession or whatever, then forget it.” He turns away, but not fast enough for Cal to miss the tears spilling down his cheeks.

“I considered not telling you,” Cal admits shamefully. “I did, but it would be wrong. I know you told me a million times to let the past go but…I can’t. It’s selfish, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking that I was the same person who hurt you so badly.”

Dawson spins around, anger flashing in his eyes. “Well, you are. You are that person, Cal. I told you to let the past go becauseIdid.” He points a finger at his chest. “I made my choice because I believed you’d changed. Everyone warned me not to trust you, not to let you in, but I did. You know why?” He doesn’t wait for a response. “Because I fell in love with you. And I thought, after you learned the truth, you’d own up to it. But what you’re doing now? That’s fucking low, Cal. If you think you can blame your mistakes on a ghost story, think again.”

Bile burns the back of Cal’s throat. He swallows, forcing words out. “What can I do to make you believe me?”

“You can stop lying, that’s what you can do.”

He isn’t getting anywhere with this. There must be a way to prove he’s telling the truth.

He’ll hate himself after this, but he has no other choice.

“I was there when Caledon hurt you after you told him you wanted to get a job. He was drunk again, and he hit you. There used to be a glass table here.” He points in front of the sofa, where a wooden coffee table sits. “You fell on it and it shattered. After, you hid in the bathroom. You were crying, trying to wash blood off your face.”

“Stop it,” Dawson grits out, pain flashing across his face. It’s almost enough to shut Cal up.

“I was there the day you went to visit your sister. I was there when you came back and he—”