Please | Demi Lovato

3

Demi

I woke up to Wilmer sitting up in bed, scrambling in the dark for the lamp. I squinted into the light at him.

"What's wrong? What are you doing?"

"She's screaming!" He untangled himself from the sheets and jumped up, running for Emily's room.

I hesitated getting up. Now that I was listening, I heard her cries, the same ones that I woke up to every night as a child. The same terrorizing nightmares that preyed on my dreams, twisting them into a variation of my dark reality. After a few minutes, and I heard her crying stop, I got up and walked upstairs. I found Wilmer lying on Emily's bed, her tiny frame snuggled tightly against him as he rubbed her back. I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him comfort her, the same way he would've comforted the little girl we lost just over two years ago.

I didn't notice he was looking at me until my eyes trailed from Emily to his face, inhaling slowly when I met his gaze.

"She'll be okay, if she's anything like how I was, she won't wake up again in the night."

He sighed and looked down at her. "That screaming..." Wilmer glanced at me. "I hate that it's familiar."

"Do you see what I mean now? We have the same nightmares, the same demons. It's the blind leading the blind here."

"I see the connections, but I don't think they'll have the same ending you do. I think you're the only person that can truly help her. You know your dad, you know how he works and to an extent, you can connect with Emily on what he did to her."

I sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Are you coming back to bed? I don't want to talk about this anymore tonight."

Wilmer looked down at Emily and kissed her hair gently, then unwound himself from her, moving a pillow so she could snuggle into it instead. Then he followed me back to our bedroom. When I laid with my back to him he let out a slow sigh, and his hand trailed from the tip of my shoulder down to my thigh.

"I don't like it when you're angry with me."

"I'm not angry." I murmured, and leaned back into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around me. "I'm frustrated you don't see it from my point of view, but I'm working on seeing it from yours."

"Then why are you sleeping with your back to me?" He kissed just below my ear. "You know both of us hate that."

"Because I want to." I muttered, leaning away from him. "I want space tonight."

"And why is that?"

His teasing voice was infuriating, so I sat up roughly to look at him. "Because all I see when I close my eyes is you... doing exactly what you might've done to our daughter one day, but you never got the chance to because she's dead. So give me a fucking break if I need space, okay?"

Wilmer's eyes widened and he nodded, putting both hands up. "I'm sorry."

I fell back down on the bed and curled into a ball, my eyes staring straight ahead at the wall. Wilmer let out a loud sigh and I felt him pull the blankets up. He was facing me, and I could feel his eyes on my back.

"Stop staring at me." I snapped,

"I can't help it." He murmured, his lips pressing against the nape of my neck. "It's almost like I'm madly in love with you or something."

I sighed and pushed him back slightly with my shoulder. "Go to sleep, Wilmer."

"Goodnight."

~*~