Page 48 of Should the Sky Fall

Cal frowns. “Doesn’t he come over if he’s your best friend?”

“I usually go to his place, or we go somewhere else.”

“You look happy.”

“Yeah, we got a little drunk. It was ages ago.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Well, he was more than a little. I don’t drink anymore, not after—” He cuts himself off, looking away.

Cal has a feeling he knows what this is about. “After I started drinking?”

Dawson goes tense, fear flashing in his gaze. “You—You remember?”

“Ellis told me.”

“What did he say?”

“That I crashed the car because I was drunk. And he implied it’s not unusual for me,” Cal adds testily.

“He shouldn’t have said that,” Dawson complains. “The doctors said we’re supposed to try to trigger your memory by exposing you to familiar environments and patterns. Not by putting things in your head.”

“But it was true.”

“Still...”

“If it helps,” Cal says, needing Dawson to know this, “I don’t have any cravings now. Actually, I’m craving something sweet.”

The food here is subpar at best, but Cal got a mini gingerbread muffin with his lunch yesterday. No matter how queasy his stomach has been since he’s started eating normally, he swears he could have eaten a whole basket of those. He even asked one of the nurses who’s always super nice to him if he could have some more, but she just laughed, as if he was a cute kid, and said they can’t alter his diet. To say he’s been thinking of today’s lunch non-stop would be an understatement. Just two more hours…

“Really? You hate sweet stuff.” He freezes, slapping his forehead. “Ugh, see? I shouldn’t have said that.”

Cal laughs, finding Dawson’s frustration funny. “It’s okay. WhatdoI like?”

Dawson squints. “Not sweets.”

Cal rolls his eyes. “Fine. Have it your way.” It draws a chuckle from Dawson, the sound warm and beautiful, and God, he wants more of that. He wants to hear Dawson laugh, wants him to be happy and safe, always.

Some of the things that Carrie said this morning come back to him; how he seems to be coping well with his condition. It’s…not exactly true. On the one hand, yes, he couldn’t care less about his job, or his name, or what his hobbies are supposed to be. But on the other…

“I really wish I could remember you,” he says, meaning every word. “I don’t really care if I remember anything else, but you…I want to remember you.”

Dawson looks stunned and on the verge of tears. Oh, crap. What did Cal say this time? Is Dawson going to bolt again? He really needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.

Wiping moisture from the corner of his eye, Dawson whispers, “It’s alright. I’m not holding it against you.”

This man…

If Cal can only do one thing in his life, it must be to protect Dawson. Hemustkeep him safe.

“I’m holding it against myself. It’s not fair to you. You come to see me and talk to me, and I don’t even remember a single day of our life together.” Anger bubbles up inside him again. He clenches his fists, trying to regain control. “I can feel it, you know?”

Dawson blinks. “Feel what?”

“How important you are to me. How much you mean to me.” Dawson’s speechless, his mouth agape and confusion written in his features. “I might not remember it here—” Cal touches his temple, then moves his finger to the center of his chest. “But I remember it here.”

Whatever effect he’d expected his words to have, he hadn’t thought they would make Dawson cry. “Dawson?” He pushes up on his hand, wincing at the pain that shoots through him when he turns, but he ignores it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Dawson laughs, sniffling. He wipes his face with his hands, shaking his head. “You know what? You don’t need to remember me.” He looks up, and the determination in his gaze effectively shuts down any protest Cal can come up with. “You don’t need to remember anything. We can just make new memories.”

Make new memories.That’s what Carrie said.If you can’t remember your past, focus on building your future.He’s still unsure about it. Starting anew might be good for him, but not for the people around him.