“Call me if you need me,” Stassi said. “For real.”
She walked Charlie to the door. “Text me when you make it,” Stassi said.
“I will. Love you,” Charlie replied.
“I love you more,” Stassi answered.
Stassi locked the door and retired to her room. She didn’t envy Charlie at all. Demi was a dominant man. He was big, mean, and intimidating. She could only imagine what he was like when dealing with a pain he couldn’t control. She prayed Charlie could handle it.
“Couldn’t be me.”
Chapter 5
Sleepwas a stranger. Demi laid on top of his son’s bed. His head throbbed. It felt like an earthquake was splitting his skull in half. Orange specks of light werebreaking through the dark sky. The world was awakening. It was the first day of his new life without his son. He had forgotten how to live without DJ. He wasn’t sure he could. Every part of his body felt different. His feet didn’t know how to hold his weight. His shoulders rounded down as depression tried to force him to fold. His eyes burned constantly, begging him for a little relief. All they wanted to do was shed tears, but he held back. He pulled himself from bed and found his way to his old bedroom. The sounds coming from behind that door made him bow his head and close his eyes. Wetness threatened his lids, and he sniffed his feelings away. He cleared his throat and knocked on the door.
“Lo,” he managed to call out.
Retching followed. Uncontrollable gagging—it sounded painful. Demi pushed into the room and found her in the bathroom, on the floor. Her knees kissed the tile as she gripped the toilet seat. She had cried all night, for so long that she had made herself sick. She flushed the toilet and rested her head on the seat.
Demi didn’t think twice about picking her up from the floor. He was a man who hated filth. He hated everything that feltunclean, but he ignored the smell of vomit as he turned on the shower.
“I…don’t want…your help,” she whispered. She couldn’t even talk without her words fumbling out, competing with the sobs that were trying to reach him first.
“I know,” he said, pulling her shirt above her head anyway. He bent down on one knee and unbuttoned her pants, rolling them down and pulling them away from her body. When he exposed her stretch marks, he froze. Heremembered when those marks had first appeared on her belly. She had been seven months pregnant when burgundy dots had started at her hips and spread further day by day. Lauren had been so insecure about those marks. She had hated them and had tried to rid herself of them every day since. They were proof that life had grown there. They were DJ’s signature etched in permanent ink on her skin. He placed a hand on her stomach and then let his forehead rest there. His jaw shook violently, and he locked his teeth, gritting, grinding. Lauren placed a hand on top of his head, and Demi quickly stood to his feet. The feeling of her hands consoling him would break him. He couldn’t break. He wouldn’t know how to put himself back together if he allowed it, so he plugged the hole up quickly, stopping any evidence of emotion from draining from him slowly.
“I’ma leave a towel here on the sink and give you a minute to shower. I’ll fix you something to eat,” he said.
“I’m not hungry,” she mumbled.
“Hey,” he said, jarring her attention and forcing her to look at him. “Our son needs you. You’re his mama. You’re the soft one. He needs you to lay him to rest, Lo, and he needs me to tell him not to be scared. We aren’t done being his parents. We’re not done.”
She blinked, and heavy tears fell from her eyes, but she nodded in agreement.
Demi walked out, giving her privacy, but he kept the door cracked because, for some reason, he didn’t trust her behind a closed door. He had seen her through a lot. There had been deaths of loved ones before. She had suffered miscarriages. Even his infidelity. None of those things had brought about this type of agony. He hadn’t seen her suffer like this before. He wasn’t sure if she still had hope. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he did either.
Demi pulled out his phone and saw that he had two missed calls. The spark that flickered inside his chest told him he wasn’t hopeless. His nature wanted to get in his car and drive an hour to her side. He was bleeding out, and he knew that her presence would be a temporary bandage that stopped him from losing it. Charlie was peace in human form, and his body called to her, but his duty was here. This was one vow he couldn’t break; this was one responsibility he couldn’t abandon. He couldn’t leave Lauren in these trenches by herself. He didn’t know what to do or how to handle this death. He didn’t know if he was right or wrong for the decisions he was making. Being by Lauren’s side just felt necessary. He didn’t know if he was saving himself or her, but there was the possibility of survival in their togetherness. Nobody could hurt over this in the way he was, no one except her. They shared this sorrow. Half on a baby. Half on the death of one. The shit hurt so bad it had the power to end him. He hadn’t thought anything could make him this vulnerable. He had never experienced an injury this severe. He wasn’t sure if he would have had children at all if he knew that this was even possible. It didn’t feel earthly; it didn’t feel like it was supposed to be a part of the human experience.
Demi went through the motions of preparing breakfast. He didn’t know why. If he was hungry, he couldn’t feel it, and he knew Lauren would refuse him, but he needed to keep moving.By the time she emerged from the bedroom, he had a plate set out for her. Her short hair was wet and slicked back. Her face lacked color. She almost appeared green; she was so sickened. Her eyes were bloodshot red, and it matched the tip of her nose.
“I can’t eat,” she said. “I can’t sleep. I can’t live, Demi. There isn’t even a point in trying. I’m going to blow my brains out as soon as you leave this house. So, just get out. Just get out, Demi.”
The hole in his heart deepened because he believed her.
“I’m not leaving, Lo,” he said. “And you can’t make me bury my son and my…”
“I’m nothing to you. There’s no burden here. You aren’t responsible for me. You can go.”
“You’re my wife, Lo,” he stated. He stated it like they hadn’t signed divorce papers. He stated it like he hadn’t walked out on her. “You’ll always be my wife. Life looks different for us, but I do love you, Lauren. You’re my family. Dried ink and disagreements don’t change that.”
“It doesn’t matter, Demitrius! None of it matters anymore!” Lauren couldn’t control herself. She braced a hand against the wall and clutched her stomach with the other as she sobbed. “What did I do to deserve this?”
All Demi could do was embrace her. “How did this happen to my babyyyyy?” The wails of a grieving mother were torture. This was incurable. It was abhorrent, and nothing could stop it.
“We’re gon’ get through this,” Demi whispered in her ear as he tightened his hold on her. “I don’t know how, but that’s my word. I’ma see you through.”
He didn’t know how to disconnect from one life to check into the one he shared with Charlie, but he knew the instability under this roof was too detrimental to desert. If he had recognized that before, his son would still be alive.
“We need to go to the funeral home. They’re taking DJ there. Do you want me to handle that part?” Demi asked.
