Demi Lovato Imagines

M.B

TW - (mention of) self-harm

"Oh, look at you!" you heard her squeal behind your back. Lilly gurgled as Demi poked her on her cheeks, wiping her breakfast from her chin. You felt her come beside you.

"Bye, babe," she said absentmindedly, using the dishtowel to clean her fingers of babyfood. "Might be late so don't hold dinner for me."

"Late?" you sighed, not looking up from the sink of washing up, your own fingers wrinkly from the soap water. 

"Maybe. Not sure yet."

"But you said you were going to stop doing that..."

She let out a tight sigh, like air escaping from a slowly deflating balloon, and you desperately wanted to reverse opening your mouth. 

"I can't help it if something runs over, babe," she said behind you. Her words were light and cheerful and you knew she was making funny faces at your child while simultaneously shutting down your protests. "Someone has to make the money."

Lilly's babbling filled the silence that suddenly dropped between you. 

"Right," you eventually replied, still keeping your back turned. You felt her hand on your shoulder.

"You know I don't mean it like that."

"Sure you don't."

"Y/n..."

"I said I know. It's fine."

"You're not though."

Her words were confrontational as if it were your fault you weren't fine and nothing at all to do with the way she spoke to you. 

"Demi, go to work." Then, "Don't want us going bankrupt, do we?"

You could almost see her mouth opening to deliver a quick retort before a searing pain ripped through your palm.

"Shit!" you screamed, lifting your arm out the water to see the bright red cut. The knife lying at the bottom was invisible through the bubbles. You grabbed the dishtowel, wrapping it around your fist as Lilly started to cry. Demi ran to her, picking her up out her highchair and swinging her around on her hip. 

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay! It's okay! Mommy's just being silly, isn't she? Isn't she?" she cood until Lilly's cries turned into laughs triggering Demi to immediately set her back into her chair. Checking the time on her phone, she walked up to you, not even glancing at your hand, and leant in to peck your cheek. 

"Not in front of the baby, babe," she said which you couldn't help but take as chastising. And within seconds, she was out the kitchen and you were listening to the front door shut with a heavy click. 

Squeezing the towel even tighter, you blinked back your own tears, pushing your toes into the hard floor. Lilly had started to call out for Demi, her hands reaching up and snatching at the air. Now, as it was your turn to soothe, you bent down in front of her to reassure her of your presence. But as your baby dissolved into sobs again, you found yourself blinking back your own tears, unable to do anything except kneel in front of her, face burning and eyes glassy. 

***

The waiting room was busy, as you'd expected it to be. A girl with an obviously broken arm was carried through the sliding doors by who you assume was his father and taken straight through. A drunk man was swaying at the receptionist's desk shouting profanities. An old man, sitting opposite you, kept coughing and spluttering and you angled Lilly's buggy away from him. You checked your phone again but there was still only the little 'delivered' icon under your message: