~Demi's POV~
I stare blankly at the blade in my hand, gently gliding my fingers across it before returning my attention to my daughter.
"What were you thinking, Bailey?" She sits on her bed, eyes on the floor as she toys with her fingers. "And don't even try telling me that you've never harmed yourself before."
"I haven't."
"I still don't believe you."
"Seems like that's still your problem."
I share a glance with Nick and assume that his expression mirrors my own: confusion, anger, worry, guilt....
"Do you want to know how I know that you self-harm?" I approach her.
"Your delusions are convincing you?"
"You screamed. When Nick took away your blade, you screamed."
"What is screaming supposed to prove?"
"If it were your first time harming yourself, you would've been hesitant and lost and dazed, and you would have been hoping that someone would stop you before it became too late. You scream when the only hope you have left is that blade."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You're not even being as sarcastic as usual." She glares at me. "You're scared."
"No, I'm not."
"You're scared that we're going to make you recover."
"I have nothing to recover from."
"Are you forgetting that I was in your position once? I was about the same age when my parents interrogated me for the first time."
"So, why are you doing it to me if you know how uncomfortable it is?"
"I was only uncomfortable because I was doing exactly what they accused me of."
"Well, I'm uncomfortable because you're wrongfully accusing me of shit."
"It gets worse, Bailey. I know you think that you're in control-"
"How many times do I have to tell you that you know nothing? You think I'm going through this just because I'm your daughter-"
"Nick found you with a blade hovering over your wrist."
"It was a one-time thing! I thought that it would help-"
"That's the problem!"
"Bay," Nick's voice is barely audible, and I look at his red, glassy eyes in complete shock; he never cries. "Please, quit being so stubborn. I almost lost your mom to her cutting. Do you think I want to see you go down the same path? Do you honestly think I want to bury my own daughter before I've even had a year with her?"
"You're exaggerating," she coldly disregards his concern. "Plus, you two weren't even speaking, I bet, when she messed up."
"You think that one time after Jordan was born was my first time cutting too deep?"
"Wasn't it?"
"No. That's what I'm saying, Bailey: you think that you're in control but you're not, and it only takes one wrong move for you to do permanent damage or, God forbid, kill yourself."
"I'm not going to kill myself because I do not cut. I'm not like you."
"I'm sorry, baby-girl," I ignore her confused expression and quickly clasp my hands together before firmly pressing them on her thigh.
She screams a string of curses, and I instantly step back.
"What the hell, Demi?" Nick gapes at me, clearly not understanding what I've accomplished.
"Why'd you scream that time?" I interrogate in a monotone.
"Because you crushed my thigh!"
"You're bleeding, Bailey," I frown, urging myself not to cry as her eyes shift to her blue jeans that are staining red.
I knew she was sneaky about it.
"Like mother like daughter, huh?" she mumbles, refusing to meet my gaze. "Can I go clean up?"
"Yeah," I swallow the lump in my throat.
As she walks to her bathroom, I'm about to tell her to leave the door open, but I decide to let her be. Besides, I still have her blade. I hear her lock her bathroom door, and I heave a sigh before numbly walking downstairs and sitting on the living room couch.
"What are you thinking?" Nick inquires.
I want to cry but I can't. It's as if I'm forcing my body and my mind to not break down. I feel numb, nearly devoid of all thoughts and emotions. With every blink, it feels as if my eyes grow heavier, and, if I were to just keep them closed, I could sleep for an eternity.
"What are you thinking?" he repeats, crouching in front of me.
He swiftly swipes the blade from my palm and shoves it in his back pocket before I can even muster the energy to protest.
"I'd rather have you crying and screaming than feeling absolutely nothing," he says. "You know how much it worries me when you shut down like this."
"I'm sorry," I whisper, afraid that my voice will crack if I attempt to speak any louder.
"For what?"
"Everything. I screwed up, Nick." I look away from him. "I've ruined not only Bailey's life but Jordan's, too-"
"Why do you think that?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I scoff. "Bailey cuts herself, and you heard what Jordan said to Wilmer; she believes that her own dad hates her."
"That's not your fault, Demi."
"I'm their mom. I'm supposed to be protecting them, not the other way around. Sometimes-" I cut myself off, not wanting to voice my thought, not to him.
"Don't do that."
I sigh, knowing that he's not going to drop it.
"Sometimes I think that it might have been better had I just stayed with Wilmer," I bury my face in my hands, not wanting to see his reaction.
"Why do you think that?" I cautiously lift my head upon hearing his soft tone.
"None of this would be happening right now. Jordan wouldn't witness her parents going through a messy divorce. Wilmer wouldn't be fighting for custody over the girls-"
"You'd be dead," he mutters, and I roll my eyes.
"He would not have killed me."
"He choked you."
"He let me go."
"After you blacked out, and then he ran before you had even woken back up."
A slight creaking sound draws my attention to the staircase.
"Sorry," Bailey mumbles, eyes on the floor, as she holds her blood-stained jeans in one hand.
She swapped one pair of jeans for another pair of jeans. I'd consider it to be amusing if I didn't know what she hides.
She tosses her jeans in the laundry room, then stops in the middle of the living room to stare at us.
"You're not going to make me stop, are you?" she hesitantly inquires.
"Bailey, you can't keep living like this. It's not healthy, and I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I practically gave you permission to keep cutting."
"But it's my body."
"And we're your parents who don't want to bury you."
"It can't kill me if I promise to not do it on my wrists."
"Don't make a promise that you might not be able to keep," I pause. "Besides, it can still kill you regardless of where you make the incision. If not literally, then it surely will mentally kill you, not to mention the scars that you'll have until the day that you die."
"You're trying to scare me into stopping, aren't you?" She narrows her eyes. "You should know better than anyone that that doesn't work."
"You're right. I want you to at least attempt to stop, though."
"Whatever," she grumbles, rolling her eyes.
"Why do you do it?"
"Control," she instantly confesses, and I'm surprised that she doesn't try to conjure up a lie. "Why else would I do it?"
"What else do you do?" My stomach twists when she takes a tad too long to respond.
"What do you mean?"
What if she does? What if she's doing drugs or drinking? No, I'd know, wouldn't I? Then again, I didn't know about her cutting, but that's different, isn't it? What if she has an eating disorder? Would I recognize that?
"Nevermind."
A door upstairs slams, soon followed by pounding footsteps.
"Hailey Ariana Lovato-Jonas, how dare you?" Jordan runs into the room, engulfing a stunned Bailey in a hug. "You're my sister. You shouldn't be cutting yourself. You're too pretty for that," I don't miss how Bailey cringes upon hearing the compliment.
"Thanks, Jordan," Bailey awkwardly returns the hug. "I think."
"What is it with you two and eavesdropping?"
"It's not our fault that we're related to Dumbo," Bailey defends in mock-seriousness. "And I'm referring to the elephant at Disney World, not Joe," beside me, Nick snorts, and I allow half of a smile to form. "But, seriously," she returns her attention to Jordan. "Did you just legit full name me?"
"Hailey," Jordan smirks. "Hailey. Hailey. Hai-"
"I will drown you in the pool."
"You sure are violent, Hailey," Jordan giggles, clearly amused, and Bailey shoots me a blank expression.
"What did I do?"
"You named me Hailey."
I gently elbow Nick when he begins to snicker.
"She kept the name that I picked out," he taunts.
"Am I the only one who thinks Ariana is a more girly name than Hailey?" I question.
"I never said I minded having a girly middle name," Bailey points out.
"I liked 'Hayden'," Nick shrugs, and Bailey gapes at me.
"Why didn't you listen to the man?"
"I'm sorry. How ever will you forgive me?" I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
"Name your next kid 'Hayden'," I nearly choke. "You should've seen your face," she smirks.
"Don't give them any ideas," Jordan mutters. "Could you see the 'Nemi' shippers if there was a 'Nemi' baby?"
"Jordan?" Bailey squints, as if trying to comprehend something that she missed.
"Yeah?"
"Who are you talking to?"
"You?"
"Who are my parents?"
"Nick and - oh," Jordan frowns. "But you're not a baby."
"I'm short. Stick me in a stroller, cover me with a blanket, give me a rattle. Goo goo ga ga."
Nick and I glance at each other.
"She's your daughter," we say in unison.
"Aw, thanks, guys, I can totally feel the love," Bailey sarcastically chimes.
~
"Everything that you said earlier with Wilmer, was it true?" Nick asks as we're laying in bed after the girls have went to sleep.
I nod.
"Were you trying to kill yourself that day?"
I shake my head.
"I just wanted the hopelessness to end."
"I figured."
"How so?"
"I know you, Demi. I've seen you at your best and at your worst. Despite what you might think and despite what you may say, I don't think you were ever truly suicidal. I just think you wanted all of the pain to end."
There's a pause as I ponder over his words.
"If that's the case, is anybody really suicidal? I mean, who actually wants to die? Why would you want to die when you could just end the pain yet still live?"
"Do you think Bailey's suicidal?"
"I really hope not," my voice cracks, and my vision blurs from tears. "I don't want her to have to suffer through that kind of darkness," he brings me closer to him, his fingers gently tracing random, comforting patterns against the small of my back, bare from where my shirt has risen ever so slightly.
I shiver.
"Are you cold?" I almost laugh at how worried he sounds, as if me being cold would be the end of the world.
"Nope," I kiss him slowly, as if savoring the moment, as if making up for all of the time that I lost with him. "I love you, Nick, so much that it hurts, and I don't understand how I could have ever been so stupid-" he kisses me, completely cutting off what would soon become senseless rambling had I continued.
"I've said it before, and I'll say it until the day that I die: I never stopped loving you. Not once, Demi."
"You should've given up on me a long time ago. You would've been so much happier."
"Happier?" He shakes his head. "Maybe it would have been easier. Maybe I would have been living in semi-contentment. But I'd still be in love with you. My heart would still want you. I'd still get jealous knowing that Wilmer had you. I-"
"You were jealous?" I arch an eyebrow.
"Of every single guy that you've been with since I've met you," I giggle at his seriousness.
"Well, now you have no reason to be jealous anymore."
"I'll still get jealous."
We continue to kiss, just as slowly, just as passionately. It honestly scares me. Receiving genuine love has become foreign, but, despite the secret feelings that I've had for Nick since our teenage years and despite our one fling so many years ago, receiving love from him is even stranger. But I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything. I'm receiving what I've always wanted: love - true love - and happiness. These feelings have arisen only once before: fourteen years ago when I slept with him, my best friend. Back then, it hurt because I knew that my feelings were irrational, I knew that I should have felt guilt and remorse, and I knew that my love would go unrequited. I had a chance when I discovered that I was pregnant: to follow my heart and be with Nick or try to salvage my relationship with Wilmer. Look at how well that turned out.
"Do you hear that?" Nick wonders.
With furrowed eyebrows, I listen intently for something, whatever it may be that he heard.
Then I hear it.
Loud, muffled sobs.
Followed by familiar screams.
We run, barging into Bailey's room only to find Jordan already there, trying to shake her sister awake.
"I didn't do anything, I swear," she sobs. "I just heard her.." she trails off as Bailey continues to shout and scream, seeming to be fighting off whatever is in her dream.
"Go to your room," I kiss Jordan's forehead, and she nods, quickly scurrying out of the room, clearly terrified. "What we did last time?" I ask Nick, already easing myself beside my daughter as he nods, claiming the other side of her, just like before.
"Seems the only one who doesn't see your beauty is the face in the mirror looking back at you. You walk around here thinking you're not pretty, but that's not true 'cause I know you," I sing, and Nick joins me for the next part, the chorus. "Hold on, baby, you're losing it. The water's high; you're jumping into it and letting go, and no one knows that you cry, but you don't tell anyone that you might not be the golden one, and you're tied together with a smile, but you're coming undone."
I struggle to wipe away my tears that keep falling. Bailey's eyes blink open as she stares at me, obviously dazed.
"Mom?" Her voice is raspy from sleep. "Why are you crying?" She wraps her arms around me, snuggling against my side. "You're tied together with a smile, but you're coming undone," she murmurs in my ear, and Nick and I stay with her as she drifts back off to sleep, and we continue to stay with her as the sky outside her window lights up and turns to fire.
How bad must her nightmares be for her to scream so loudly?
What are her nightmares about?
Will she tell me if I ask?
Do I even want to know?
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