Chances That You're Burning Through

Original | Chapter Thirteen

~Demi's POV~

I stand in the empty, private hospital waiting room, pacing, receiving nothing but his dial tone over and over again.

I redial his number yet again.

"Hello?"

"Joe, I-,"

"Demi? Why are you calling me? Y'know what, nevermind, I'm hanging up now."

"Joe, wait-," With a sigh, I curse when the irritating dial tone buzzes.

I dial Wilmer's number. He answers immediately.

"Hermosa, how is she?"

"She's," I inhale sharply, then release the breath heavily. "I don't know," I whisper to prevent my voice from cracking.

"How are you?"

My gaze flickers to my arms, covered by the sleeves of my jacket. Just barely creeping past the hem of each sleeve are fading pink nail tracks that travel up to my elbows. I instinctively pull my sleeves down.

"I'm fine."

"Don't you dare lie to me."

I roll my eyes at the fact that he knows me so well.

"I know that I told you to stay home with the girls, but-,"

"I'll be there in ten."

"Can you drop the girls off at Nick's? He's the only other person I would trust them with."

"Of course. I love you, Demi. Permanece fuerte, mi amor."

"Love you, too," I mumble.

I power my phone off and continue to pace, my skin practically crawling with anxiety. I focus on my breathing, taking deliberately deep, slow breaths.

You do realize that you're a horrible mother, right? Your daughter-whom you gave up soon after she was born, might I add-just tried to kill herself under your roof while you were downstairs.

I claim a chair and tuck my hands underneath my thighs to prevent me from sinking my nails into my skin. I struggle to regain focus on my breathing, dry sobs causing my body to shake. I don't think my sore, tired eyes can handle anymore crying.

"Dems," Wilmer crouches in front of me.

I didn't even hear him enter the room.

Relieved, I clasp my arms around his neck.

"How is she?"

I release him, shaking my head.

"We lost her once, but they managed to resuscitate her. Last time I heard anything, she still wasn't in a stable condition," I pause, clearing my throat so that my voice doesn't crack from unshed tears. "What if we lose her?" I whisper.

"We won't, hermosa."

"You can't be sure of that, Wilmer."

"How are you?" He changes the subject after a solemn pause.

"I already told you that I'm fine," I snap. "How I'm doing doesn't matter, Wilmer."

"Yes-,"

"Not when my daughter is lying in a damn hospital bed and there isn't a thing I can do about it."

I hear footsteps, as if someone is shuffling their weight from one foot to the other. I shift my attention to the doorway.

"Why are you here?"