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Wilmer

I know I have to be the strong one, but I still can't seem to shake the ache in my heart that is a continuous reminder of the daughter I once had. Demi tried to keep up a front, but I could read her like an open book. She would never be the same, and forever blame herself for Izzy commiting suicide. She needed me, to be the one to hold her and tell her it's okay. But at the same time, I need that too. I'm grieving just as hard as she is and I have to keep it all inside. We try to keep everything normal around the babies, since they can sense depression and sadness around them. It's hard, since Demi and I still haven't been even close to having sex in the past two years. It just doesn't feel right, neither of our hearts are in it.

It's been two years. Two years, since we welcomed our beautiful babies into the world, and let go of one forever. And neither of us are even close to fine.

~*~

When I wake up, Demi isn't in bed with me. This isn't unusual for her. For the past six months she's gotten up at the crack of dawn, and sat on the terrance wrapped in a blanket, and stared out at the sky numbly. I get out of the bed, and walk to her normal spot, and sure enough she's there, with the baby monitor on the small table. Her nose is red, and her eyes are blank. I can tell she's been crying. She only cries once a year, on this day. The rest she's numb.

"Good morning love." I say, walking out to where she's sitting.

"Hey." Her voice cracks and I sigh, sitting down behind her in the chair then pulling her between my legs to rest her back on my chest. I wrap my arms around her and we both stare out at the sky.

I notice her guitar resting on the railing and nod towards it, "Were you playing?"

Demi sighs and leans her head back to look at me, "Yeah, I tried a few melodies but nothing feels right anymore. It's like the music inside of me is gone with her."

I kiss her temple and play with her fingers a bit, "I don't think that's true. I know you Dems, music is in your veins. It's what keeps you alive."

She's quiet for a few seconds, "Exactly."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I'm afraid of her answer.

"I mean the music is gone, and so is Izzy, so there's nothing left to live for." The words leave her mouth in a monotone so I know it's the depression talking, she doesn't really feel this way.

"You're wrong."

She shrugs, "Maybe."

I shake my head, "You have plenty to live for. You have your fans, your family, your beautiful babies who love you and need you." I swallow the lump in my throat, "You have me. I love you, and I need you."

Demi rolls her eyes a bit, "You don't need me. You've been handling this like a normal person. I'm the one who can't get over it."

I bite my lip, debating on whether or not to come clean with her, "Actually, I haven't been handling it like a normal person." I say quietly, causing Demi to look at me sharply.

"What?"

I shrug, "I have dreams- nightmares really, of that day. Of her screaming for me to help her, but I can't. Nothing I do helps." I close my eyes briefly, fighting tears. "Everything in this house reminds me of her. Sometimes I can't even look at Mia because of how much she reminds me of Izzy when she was a baby. Overtime I pass by her room, that neither of us have touched yet, a piece of me dies inside. I know I shouldn't be keeping all of this inside of me, but I can't help it. You needed me to be strong so I was."

Demi sits up and turns to face me, half-laying on my body, "What the hell is wrong with you?!" She exclaims, slapping my chest.

"What?!" I wince, rubbing where she hit me.

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