Even Heroes Have Scars

[99] Angels Among Us

TW: OD. This follows the events of July 24, 2018. Please proceed with caution, as I know this is a very difficult subject for many. 

~ July 24, 2018 ~

Ansley's P.O.V.

Nobody ever wants the love of their life to die. That's what Demi was to me. The love of my life. I knew it from the moment I met her. From the moment she dragged me into her house. From the moment she sang with me. From the moment she made me sit on my hands. From the moment she kissed me. From the moment we first made love. From the moment we talked about marriage and kids. I've known. Not just for moments, but for months, years, a huge portion of my life. This was my person. And I was reminded of it as Cody drove me over to Demi's, and one of her songs came on the radio. Like it was a sign that this was my last fucking chance to make it right.

I smiled so widely as I started up the steps of her house that morning. No call, no text. I even told Cody to go on home, because I was determined to make her mine again. Despite the triggers. Despite the arguments. Despite the months of holding a grudge. I was surrendering. Heart over brain.

The house was unusually quiet as I opened the door that was surprisingly unlocked, only the sounds of the chef in the kitchen, along with Jordan, Demi's assistant, grumbling to herself in the living room about how Demi needed to get up for an appointment.

"She's not down yet. She hates when I wake her," Jordan told me when she saw me at the base of the staircase to Demi's room.

I grinned. "I think she will be glad to see me."

Excitedly, my feet carried me up the steps to her room, and I opened the door. It was cold, which was abnormal. And Demi was in bed, lying on her side. My heart dropped. She was unclothed. She never slept without clothes on unless she was too exhausted after sex, meaning she slept with someone. Then my body froze. Not even a pulse in my ears as my entire body became cement. She was blue, some vomit decorating her chin and cheek, and I genuinely couldn't tell if she was even breathing. Everything around me trembled, and it took several attempts before my voice could even form Jordan's name as I shouted for her.

I fell to my knees, tapping Demi's cheek and calling for her. "Demi. Demi, baby, it's me. Demi, wake up. Wake up. Do you hear me? Demi, wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Please, Demi, please. I love you. You have to wake up." I shook Demi's body profusely now, tears wetting my cheeks.

"Oh, my God." Jordan immediately stood over my shoulder and called Max Lea.

"Yeah, she's not waking up. She's not really responding. I don't know what to do. You have to help," Jordan said into the phone as she exited the room.

Within a matter of seconds, security was in the room, and Jordan wrapped her arms around me, pulling me away from Demi's lifeless body. Security kept Demi on her side and attempted to clear her throat as I clutched onto Jordan. My fingertips burned with the sensation of Demi's cold skin, and I feared that perhaps that was the last moment I'd ever touch her.

"Should I call 9-1-1?" Jordan asked as she cocooned my body with hers.

I nodded into her chest, even though security didn't seem overly fond of the idea. "Please," I begged her. "They have to save her."

Jordan released me once a few more people arrived, and she snuck downstairs. From a distance, I heard her on the phone with 9-1-1. Everything became blurry now, so many people charging about the room and telling Jordan to not have sirens. I couldn't even fathom the idea of not wanting someone to help her by any means necessary. I didn't care if the world knew. I didn't care if helicopters chased the ambulance down the highway. Someone needed to help Demi right fucking now.