Haze | Demi Lovato

1

Demi

"DEMI?!" Wilmer yelled, waking me up from my nap.

"What?" I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head. Quickly, it was ripped off though, and Wilmer was standing in front of me, clearly seething. "What's wrong?" I said, warily getting up and walking to him. I gasped when I saw tears in his eyes and put my hands on his cheeks. "Baby?"

He closed his eyes. "Demi, I need to ask you question that I already know the answer to."

My hands traveled down to his chest. "Okay?"

Wilmer opened his eyes and they were full of hurt, pain and fear, a look I had only seen once before, when he said goodbye to me on the day I left for treatment.

"Are you using again?"

It felt like ice had been injected into my veins. "Wh-What? W-Why would y-you even say that?" I stuttered, walking away from him.

"Demi. Answer the question."

I turned around slowly and pulled my lips in, then nodded. There was the broken man I had seen all those years ago when we hugged goodbye at the airport.

"Pack a bag." He whispered. "You're going to Timberline Knolls.

"No!" I pleases. "Wilmer. You can't do that."

"I can, and I will." He pulled out a bag filled with the white powder I knew to be my stash, and tossed it on the table. "That, is the relationship that you are in." He snapped. "You cannot be fully committed to this marriage, and to me, while being in a relationship with that. Demi, you are going back to Timberline Knolls. Now give me your wrists."

I numbly held out my hands and he checked my wrists quickly.

"Now your thighs."

I sighed and yanked down my leggings. Wilmer examined the insides of my thighs then lifted my shirt to check my hips and stomach. It wasn't a warm, caring check. He didn't kiss my wrists like he usually did. It was cold and swift, like a doctor's examination.

"Please." I whispered, once he straightened up. "Please Wilmer don't make me go back. I can't go back there. Everything I've worked for-"

"Everything you've said, since the second
you took your first hit of that shit, has been a lie. Every word you've said to me, every 'I love you' and 'I trust you' is a lie. So yeah, you are going back. I don't give a fuck about what the public says. How long have you been using?"

I dropped my head. "It doesn't matter. It won't change anything."

"HOW LONG?"

I jumped as he yelled again. "Three months. Since the day Mimaw died."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Who gave it to you?"

I bit my lip. "Hanna."

"HANNA?" Wilmer thundered. "Since when are you talking to her again?!"

"She called me on the day mimaw died, just offering her condolences. Then she offered it and..." I shook my head, not about to look at him. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Upstairs. Pack a bag."

"No! Please baby-"

"I'm not your baby!" He snapped, his voice hard and cold like ice. There was no love in his tone. "The moment you accepted that bag you broke every vow you took. Every vow you promised to me, you broke. You betrayed our marriage, our life together. You could've come to me with anything if you were feeling tempted, like you promised to do when we stood at the alter. All of the trust I had in you is gone." His eyes squeezed shut and when they opened I let out a whimper at how hate-filled they were. He had never looked at me like that before. "Go upstairs. Pack a bag. I'm booking us a plane to Illinois and calling TK."

I shook my head, sobbing now. "No. Please Will... Please don't make me."

He shook his head and grabbed my wrist, practically dragging me upstairs. He tapped a few buttons and held his phone to his head using his shoulder.

"Hi I need a room for my wife. She's been there before. Demi Lovato. Yes, that one."

I couldn't help the horrified squeak when he just used my maiden name, not the hyphenated lovato-valderrama that he was always so proud of.

"Cocaine." He glanced at me. "Three months, but it could've been longer."

I sat down on the bed and buried my face into my hands, sobbing hysterically. Wilmer hung up and immediately dialed again.

"Phil." I went to grab the phone but he pushed my arm away, giving me a warning look. "She's going back. I found drugs. She's been using for months. Tell need to know only. I need a flight to Timberline Knolls. now. Private Jet, commercial, I don't care. Email me the details."

Wilmer hung up and pulled out a black duffel bag from my closet, beginning to throw clothes into it. Almost acceptant of my fate now, I stood up and began to walk to Wilmer's closet.

"What are you doing?"

I couldn't stop myself from flinching at his cold, harsh tone. "I-I... I'm just getting a few of your t-shirts... Is that okay? Y-You know I can't sleep without one when I'm alone."

He shook his head. "I'm packing your own t-shirts. You can learn to sleep in your own damn clothes."

"But-"

"But nothing. End of discussion."

"Wilmer please. Just one. I can't not have a piece of you in there. Please."

"I don't want you to have a piece of me. You're a big girl now. You'll survive." He roughly. zipped the bag shut then checked his phone. "Private jet leaves in an hour. There might be paparazzi with some long lenses so if you're too worried about your image I'd pull yourself together. Get in the car."

I wanted to throw up. This wasn't my husband. I'd never in a million years would've dreamt he could've spoken so harshly to me.

"Wilmer I'm begging you. Don't do this. Please."

"It's too late." He snarled, and I took a step back. "Maybe if you had come to me before, and told me, things would've been different. It's too late for 'I'm sorry's' and 'don't do this'. Now. Get. In. The. Car."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Comment and Vote!

Twitter: Lovatic_Chica

-Rachel