Chances That You're Burning Through

Original | Chapter Eleven

~Demi's POV~

Clenching the steering wheel tightly, I drive up the familiar driveway. The three girls in the backseats are silent. I managed to just barely get Rebecca in the car, not without an argument, of course. Brianna seems to be giving me the silent treatment, beginning to copy Rebecca's attitude and hostility about the situation. Anabelle, although emotional about the situation, is silent, seemingly neutral as far as picking sides goes. As Joe's house enters my line of vision, I notice Wilmer's car parked in the driveway behind Joe's. I expect the girls to question where we're at or why Wilmer's car is in the driveway-a question that I would like to know the answer to myself-but they don't. I park beside Wilmer's car, leaving the engine running. After telling the girls to wait in the car and not receiving even an eye flicker of acknowledgment, I make my way to Joe's front door, my black heels clicking against the asphalt. Before I can manage to step onto the front porch, the door flies open, and my husband, with his furious gaze lowered to the ground as he shakes his head, charges in my direction with Joe in tow and Ashley bringing up the rear.

"Hey!" I shout, making my existence known.

All of their heads snap towards me, all of their eyes watching me.

"I'm not talking to you, Demi," Wilmer coldly stalks past me.

"Why?" I curse my voice for cracking, and I curse myself for asking such a stupid question.

"Because I don't want to."

Clenching my jaw, I whirl around and grip his arm, forcing him to stop.

"I don't care if you don't want to talk to me, but you are going to talk to me regardless," My tone is surprisingly calm, fierce even. "You're going to hear me out and you're going to listen, and you're going to stop being such an immature prick right now long enough to get it through your thick, stubborn skull that I did not cheat on you with Joe."

"Really?" He bitterly laughs. "Because that's not what he said," Although he tries to keep up the harsh facade, it crumbles as his voice cracks on that last word.

He blinks away the glassy sheen to his eyes. He hardly ever cries, hardly ever is vulnerable.

"What did he say?" I narrow my eyes.

When Wilmer doesn't respond, I turn towards Joe.

"What the fuck did you say to him?" I yell, lunging for him, but Wilmer wraps his arms around my waist and slightly lifts me up into the air, halting my actions.

"Someone has anger issues," Ashley giggles.

I thrash in Wilmer's grasp, wanting nothing more than to drive Ashley's face into the asphalt underneath our shoes. Frowning when I realize that I'm achieving nothing but tiring myself out, I stop fighting, and Wilmer warily releases me. Before I can even blink, Ashley flashes me a smirk and collides her open palm with my cheek.

"That's for throwing yourself at my boyfriend and trying to get him to sleep with you, you slut," she quietly hisses.

Finally, it clicks. I turn to my ex.

"You told them that I initiated it?" I inquire, already knowing the answer.

Joe is unable to meet my gaze. I run my tongue along the front of my top row of teeth in a half-hearted effort to compose myself, to refrain from murdering someone.

"If you wanted me that badly, Joe, you should've considered keeping me a long time ago. And you," I turn on my heel to face my husband. "If you think that I'd actually be stupid enough to go back to him," I shake my head. "I'm disappointed in you, baby. Maybe our relationship doesn't have as much trust in it as I originally assumed."