Purple Heart | Demi Lovato

2

Demi

I woke up without Wilmer in the bed. It was still dark out, and the clock on the bedside table read 2:46 AM. Sleepily I glanced around, rubbing my eyes as I tried to get them to adjust to the lack of light.

"Wilmer?" I mumbled, kicking the sheets away. I crawled to his side of the bed and looked down, stopping when I saw he was laying on the floor, his head resting on a small decorative pillow, no blanket covering his form.

"Baby." I said, reaching down and shaking his arm. His eyes flew open and he grabbed my wrist, yanking me down to the floor and quickly locking his arm around my neck in a chokehold.

"WILMER." I yelled, grabbing his thick forearm, struggling to take a breath. "Wilmer it's me."

His hold released instantly, his chest heaving with each breath. "Demi?"

I sat up, scooting away from him, rubbing my throat and taking slow, deep breaths.

"Oh God, Demi. I'm so sorry. I didn't realize..." Wilmer reached over and pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

I held him back, closing my eyes. "It's okay. Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

His muscles tensed. "I don't want to talk about it. Let's just go to sleep."

~*~

When the sun finally came up, and my eyes opened, I was once again the only one occupying the bed. I sat up, yawning before I got out of bed, padding across the hardwood floors until I hit the kitchen tile and saw Wilmer sitting at the countertop, drinking coffee.

"You know..." I started. "It would be nice not to wake up alone at least once."

He turned in the chair and sighed. "You sleep way too late."

"It's seven am. This is not late."

Wilmer smiled and shook his head. "Is it for me."

I sighed and walked over, putting both of my hands on his cheeks. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" He shot back. "Jesus, Demi. I could've killed you last night."

"It was just a reflex." I murmured, pulling him into a hug. "I startled you."

His arms came around my waist, locking me body to his. "I had you in a chokehold."

"Please, don't beat yourself up. You went through a lot over there. It's going to be an adjustment." I ran my nails through his hair, trying to soothe his guilt. "I love you."

"I love you." His muffled reply made me smile and I gently pulled his head from out of the crook of my neck, looking into his eyes.

"I am so glad you're back home." I softly stroked my fingertips down his cheek. "I missed you so much... When I got that phone call, I was so scared. I was so scared they were going to tell me you were dead."

He sighed heavily, pressing his lips to my forehead. "I'm right here, Dems. I'm right here."

~*~

"Yes, Sir. Of course. Thank you. Have a good day."

I peeked around the corner into the living room and saw Wilmer standing at the window, looking out to the lawn.

"Is everything okay?"

"They want to give me the Purple Heart."

I gasped and walked over. "Baby that's amazing!"

"No!" He pushed away my arms. "It's not. The things that happened over there, the things I had to do, they don't deserve the Purple Heart!" Wilmer shook his head. "They deserve a dishonorable discharge."

"You saved six men." I said firmly, shaking my head. "Wilmer you gave six wives their husbands back. You gave kids their fathers back. You're a hero."

"I'm not." He shook his head. "I'm not anyone's hero. How can I deserve a medal for saving six lives when I took countless others? When I ripped apart family after family simply by pulling a trigger?"

"It's different when they're shooting at you too. Baby you did what you had to do to come home. You came home to me. That's all that matters."

"No it's not." He stepped away from me and ran a hand through his hair. "I need to go. I need time to think."

"Okay." I backed away, knowing when his walls came up there was no one in the world who could talk sense into him. "I love you."

He forced a smile and walked out, grabbing his car keys as he went for his truck. Once he started up the engine and drove away, I finally let out the breath I had been holding. Wilmer always held unnecessary guilt. He blamed himself for everything. When his dad died, he blamed himself for not seeing him enough, and when his mom got sick, he blamed himself for going off to war and worrying her.

He wasn't going to blame himself for this. I would not let him.

~*~

Wilmer came back to the house late, just past midnight. When he walked into the bedroom I was already under the blankets, reading a book.

"Where'd you go?" I asked, once he got changed into his abnormal pajamas.

"Shilling's."

It was a bar up the street. He had brushed his teeth but the unfocused look in his eyes told me how much he had been drinking.

"Are you okay?"

He sighed, getting under the covers next to me. "Yeah."

I rolled over, putting my head on his shoulder. "It feels better to drink than to talk to me about it?"

"Yeah."

I sighed, taking his hand and running my fingertips over the wedding band on his ring finger. "You don't know how sad that makes me."

"Yeah."

I shook my head, knowing I wouldn't be able to get a decent conversation with him while he was like this. "Okay, go to bed Wilmer."

He sighed. "I can't. I can't sleep in this bed. It's too soft, it makes me feel  like I'm sinking in, like I'm drowning. I dream that I'm drowning."

I felt tears fill my eyes and I leaned my You forehead against his temple. "Then let's not sleep here." I gently took his hand and pulled him into a sitting position, then off of the bed. I grabbed the fluffy comforter and two pillows, then sat on the floor, smiling once he unsteadily sat down next to me.

"What are we doing?"

I bit my lip, laying down on the hardwood floor. "We're sleeping on the floor."

"Demi, this is ridiculous." His words were still slightly slurred. "Get in bed."

"No." I pulled him down to lay on the floor and curled up against his body, yanking the blanket over us. "If this is what you need to sleep, this is what we're going to do. I don't want you to have nightmares. I want you to feel free."

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-Rachel