Purple Heart | Demi Lovato

4

Demi

True to his word, when we got home from D.C. Wilmer didn't sleep in the bed with me. Instead he took the guest room, refusing it when I offered him the master. I hated sleeping apart; it reminded me of the times where we would fight and fall asleep angry, or when he was overseas. Waking up in the middle of the night without him to cuddle into felt like he was back in Afghanistan.

I hated it.

I woke up alone, and walked downstairs to see Wilmer standing at the window, drinking a cup of coffee. In his hand, was the purple heart medal he'd received, in a glass case. I walked over and gently touched the small of his back.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I don't deserve this shit." His voice was seething and angry. "What I did wasn't heroic, or an act of valor. What I did was barbaric, and unforgivable."

"I can't help you unless you tell me what happened." All I wanted was to wrap him up in my arms and make it all go away. I wanted to take whatever pain and guilt that weighed on his heart and make it all go away.

"You can't help me." He snapped. "You don't know anything about me anymore."

"I know you better than anyone."

Wilmer whipped around, and I bit my lip when I saw the anger in his eyes. "You don't know... anything. You're too naive to know things about the world, or me. You're naive to think that love is all that matters."

"You don't mean that." I murmured, stepping closer. "I know you don't."

"STOP SAYING THAT YOU KNOW!" He shouted. "STOP SAYING THAT YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO ME OR THAT YOU KNOW HOW I AM FEELING!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Dammit." He shook his head. "You make me sick."

He pushed past me and stalked out of the room, and the next moment the front door slammed.

~*~

I was making dinner when Wilmer came back. I heard the front door open and didn't turn around, not even when the sound of his footsteps took him right behind me. His hands touched my waist and he leaned his forehead against my temple.

"I'm sorry."

I sighed heavily and turned around, looking up into his eyes. "I know."

He slipped one hand up to cup my cheek and leaned down, pressing his mouth against mine. "I didn't mean it." He murmured against my lips. "I didn't mean any of it."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

I sighed again and leaned my head back. "Maybe you should talk to someone Wilmer, this isn't something you can do on your own."

"I don't need a shrink." He chuckled. "I'm not crazy."

"Something changed inside of you over there." I murmured. "Talk to me."

"You wouldn't understand." I could feel the tension growing in his body as my hands came up to touch his sides. "How could I expect you to forgive me if I can't even forgive myself?"

"Because I'm your wife." I whispered. "Because I love you more than anyone else in the world."

He grimaced and shook his head, looking away from me. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Okay." I slid my hands up his chest. "We can talk about something else."

He stepped away from me and sat down. "Like what?"

"I was thinking of going away for my birthday. I think it would be nice for us to take a trip somewhere, to get our minds off of things."

"Get our minds off of things?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Where do you want to go?"

"We haven't been to Paris since our honeymoon." I gave him a small smile.

"Are you sure we have the money for that?" His voice was dull.

"We have plenty of money." I sighed. "Unless..."

"Unless?"

I bit my lip. "Unless you plan on us having kids in the future."

Wilmer stiffened. It was silent for a few moments.

"Paris it is."

~*~

I couldn't pretend Wilmer's lack of interest in having children with me didn't hurt. We'd talked about it before, and agreed on waiting until he was done with active duty before we started trying, but now I was afraid it would never happen. Children with Wilmer was the one thing I wanted more than anything. I always pictured myself as a mom, with Wilmer by my side. My fantasies drifted from a bubbling little girl to a energized baby boy. I had dreamed of it since the moment I knew Wilmer was the one.

But now I didn't know if it was even a possibility.

That night, I laid alone in our bed and I couldn't help but feel a little bit angry. Here I was, laying alone when my perfectly good husband was in the other room because he didn't think he could sleep in the same bed as me.

I stood up, and walked to the guest room, stopping in the doorway.

"This is ridiculous."

"What?" He looked up from his phone. "What is?"

"Can we please sleep in the same bed tonight?"

"No." His tone was final.

"Please?" I walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. "You won't hurt me."

"Your neck is barely healed from last time. Absolutely not."

"Wilmer." I reached out and touched his back. "I miss you. It's so hard to sleep without you." I shifted even closer and rubbed his shoulders, kissing the nape of his neck. "I miss having you hold me."

"I nearly killed you."

"You're not going to hurt me." I gently wrapped my arms around his neck from behind and pulled him back so he laid down with his head on my lap. "Please don't make me sleep alone."

"Fine." He breathed, looking up at me. "But we sleep in here."

"Okay." I smiled and leaned down, pressing my lips to his upside down.

Wilmer kissed me back for a moment, then moved so he was laying normally, and so that I could snuggle into his chest. He hesitated, then his arms wound around me, holding me to his body.

"I miss this." I murmured, inhaling the scent of his skin. "I miss you."

"There's nothing to miss. I'm home."

"No." I tried swallowed the lump in my throat. "You're back, but you don't think of this as your home anymore. I can feel how uncomfortable you are here. You used to tell me that my arms was your home. Now you feel uncomfortable when I touch you. I can feel how uncomfortable you are right now."

He sighed, and didn't answer.

Neither of us spoke again, and eventually I fell asleep, holding onto the man I had loved for the past eight years.

I held onto the memory of the man I married.

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

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-Rachel