Bruce Willis’s family facing tragic new health battle as daughter struggles

The Willis family has gone through a lot during these past months, and their struggles are far from over.

Ever since the Die Hard star was diagnosed with a condition that affects one’s ability to communicate, the world fell silent. His family provided him with extreme support and has been updating his fans of Bruce’s condition regularly.

Bruce withdrew from from the spotlight, and later on, he was diagnosed with a more specific condition; frontotemporal dementia.

“Our family wanted to start by expressing our deepest gratitude for the incredible outpouring of love, support and wonderful stories we have all received since sharing Bruce’s original diagnosis,” his daughter Rumer Willis posted on the social media.

“In the spirit of that, we wanted to give you an update about our beloved husband, father and friend since we now have a deeper understanding of what he is experiencing.

“Since we announced Bruce’s diagnosis of aphasia in spring 2022, Bruce’s condition has progressed and we now have a more specific diagnosis: frontotemporal dementia (known as FTD).”

NEW YORK, NY – MARCH 21: (Exclusive Coverage) Bruce Willis and Tallulah Willis celebrate Bruce Willis’ 60th birthday at Harlow on March 21, 2015 in New York City. (Photo by Kevin Mazur/WireImage)

As Bruce’s wife, ex-wife, and his daughters were as well affected by his illness, his daughter Tallulah, whom the actor shares with Demi Moore, is experiencing issues with her mental health and they get worse as her father’s health condition worsens.

Tallulah spoke openly of her anorexia after she was dumped by her fiancè Dillon Buss less than three months after her father’s aphasia diagnosis.

As per reports, Bruce is being aware of his daughter’s suffering.

“Bruce could see her wasting away and it only made his own problems worse,” a source said, as reported by Radar.

“Bruce was shattered when he saw Tallulah’s suffering,” the insider went on.

“It got to the point where the family thought it would be better if they weren’t around each other at all.”

SHANGHAI, CHINA – NOVEMBER 04: American actor Bruce Willis attends CocoBaba and Ushopal activity on November 4, 2019 in Shanghai, China. (Photo by VCG/VCG via Getty Images)

Tallulah has been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder after she checked into an in-patient facility following the breakup.

In the essay she penned for Vogue Magazine, Tallulah explained that her struggles with body dysmorphia began when she started taking medication for ADHD.

“I felt smart for the first time,” Tallulah said of taking her medication, “but I also started to enjoy the appetite-​suppressant side effect of the meds. I saw a way to banish the awkward adolescent in favor of a flighty little pixie. And like so many people with eating disorders, my sense of myself went haywire.

“There’s an unhealthy deliciousness at the beginning of losing weight rapidly. People are like, ‘Oh wow!’ And then quickly it turns to, ‘Are you okay?’ My friends and family were terrified, and I dismissed it.”

LOS ANGELES, CA – JULY 14: Tallulah Willis attends the Comedy Central Roast of Bruce Willis at Hollywood Palladium on July 14, 2018 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Frederick M. Brown/Getty Images)

The 29-year-old added: “By the spring of 2022, I weighed about 84 lbs. I was always freezing. I was calling mobile IV teams to come to my house, and I couldn’t walk in my Los Angeles neighborhood because I was afraid of not having a place to sit down and catch my breath.”

We truly hope Tallulah would be able to overcome her health issues.

My Husband Said We Couldn’t Afford a Family Vacation After Christmas – Then I Found a $3K Bill for His Work Wife’s SPA Day

When Ethan insisted a family vacation was out of budget, I trusted him — until a $3,000 luxury spa charge appeared on our account. Determined to uncover the truth, I followed the trail. What I found shattered my trust and changed everything.

I always thought trust was like a well-tended garden. You pour your love into it, pull the weeds, and water it regularly, so it grows strong and lush. And for 12 years, I did that for my marriage to Ethan. I believed in him. I believed in us.

A happy couple hugging | Source: Midjourney

A happy couple hugging | Source: Midjourney

We had a good life, or so I thought. Two kids, a house with a creaky porch swing, and a weekly tradition of homemade pizzas on Friday nights. Ethan was the kind of guy who earned respect everywhere he went. A hard worker, and a dedicated father.

And then there was Rachel, his so-called “work wife.” We’d met many times, and I liked her. She was friendly, funny, and always spoke warmly about her husband. We weren’t friends, but I was glad Ethan had a colleague like her.

I used to joke about her during dinner, saying how nice it was that someone kept him sane during those late-night shifts.

A woman at a dinner table | Source: Pexels

A woman at a dinner table | Source: Pexels

He’d smile, brushing it off with a vague comment about her love of spreadsheets.

For years, I admired their partnership. She was the yin to his professional yang, or so I convinced myself. But lately, cracks had started to appear.

It wasn’t just the long hours or the constant texting. It was how he’d smile at his phone, a smile I hadn’t seen directed at me in months. Something didn’t add up.

A man smiling while texting | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling while texting | Source: Midjourney

Then he told me we couldn’t afford the Christmas vacation I’d been looking forward to all year.

“Are you sure?” I asked as we loaded the dishwasher together. “I thought everything was set.”

Ethan averted his gaze and shrugged. “It was… but we had all those unexpected expenses in October and November and now we can’t afford to go on vacation after Christmas. I’m sorry, honey.”

I sighed. “It’s okay… there’s always next year.”

A woman smiling faintly in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling faintly in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

I was disappointed, but I believed Ethan. We did have a rough time financially the last few months, and I had no reason to think he was lying to me.

Then I discovered the receipt that changed everything.

Last week, while sorting through receipts for budgeting, I noticed a $3,000 charge to “Tranquility Luxe Spa.”

A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

A woman frowning | Source: Midjourney

My first thought was that it had to be a mistake. Some kind of glitch on our credit card statement. But the date, this coming Saturday, sent a chill through me. Something wasn’t adding up.

I stared at it as I thought about why Ethan had paid so much for a spa day when we couldn’t afford a holiday. It couldn’t be a surprise for me (he could just have planned the holiday in that case), so it had to be work-related.

A stunned and confused woman in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A stunned and confused woman in a living room | Source: Midjourney

When I sat down beside Ethan that evening to ask him about it, a sense of dread settled in my belly. I watched him smiling at his phone like I didn’t even exist and I just knew.

“So, what plans do you have for Saturday?” I asked, nudging him playfully.

“Saturday? I actually have to work… there are some last-minute details I need to iron out for that big project I told you about. Why?”

A man glancing to one side slightly while texting | Source: Midjourney

A man glancing to one side slightly while texting | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, no reason,” I said, keeping my voice light. “I, uh, thought we could take the kids to the park together.”

“Maybe next weekend,” he replied absently as he typed a text on his phone.

My gut churned as the dread turned to fury. My husband, the man who once made a big show of proposing with a scavenger hunt, was a liar. And I was going to prove it.

A woman with a determined look on her face | Source: Midjourney

A woman with a determined look on her face | Source: Midjourney

On Saturday morning, I waved goodbye to Ethan like everything was fine. The minute he was out of sight, I texted the babysitter to come over. I’d already arranged that she would take the kids to the park.

I gave her the bag with the snacks and games I’d packed for the kids. Then, I set out to catch Ethan red-handed. My heart raced as I pulled into the spa’s parking lot. I told myself I’d take a peek, confirm my suspicions, and leave.

The front entrance of a spa | Source: Midjourney

The front entrance of a spa | Source: Midjourney

Inside, the air smelled of eucalyptus and privilege. I walked slowly, scanning the lobby, and then I saw them.

Ethan and Rachel were lounging beside each other in plush white robes like they were on a honeymoon. I didn’t understand… they’d always just been work buddies. I thought I might be missing something, but then she laughed at something he said and leaned in close.

Ethan cupped the side of her face with his hand and kissed her.

A shocked woman standing near a doorway | Source: Midjoruney

A shocked woman standing near a doorway | Source: Midjoruney

My legs felt like jelly. I gripped the doorframe, desperate not to fall apart. A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Not here. Not yet. I’d confirmed my suspicions, and now… now I knew I couldn’t walk out of there without doing something about it.

The spa receptionist, a bubbly blonde who looked fresh out of college, smiled at me. “Can I help you?”

I smiled back, my lips trembling. “Yes, actually. I’m planning a surprise for a couple here — Ethan and Rachel? Could I add a complimentary massage to their booking?”

A smiling receptionist in a spa | Source: Pexels

A smiling receptionist in a spa | Source: Pexels

“Oh, how sweet!” she gushed, typing quickly. “We’ll let them know right away.”

“No,” I said, my voice firm. “I’d really like to keep this a surprise.”

“One surprise massage coming up!” She said, winking at me.

If Ethan and Rachel wanted to play dirty, fine. I could play dirtier.

A woman with an intense look on her face | Source: Midjourney

A woman with an intense look on her face | Source: Midjourney

I lingered in the lobby until I saw Ethan and Rachel being whisked off for their massage. I followed them discreetly and took note of which room they entered.

Now, it was time to put my plan into action.

I waited until they were deep into their treatment before making my next move. I grabbed a large bucket of ice-cold water from the staff area and marched toward their massage room.

A bucket of water | Source: Midjourney

A bucket of water | Source: Midjourney

The moment the masseuse stepped out of the room, I entered. They were lying face down on heated tables, their blissful sighs filling the air. The sight of them lying there, serene and oblivious, made my blood boil.

I stepped inside quietly, holding my breath. Then, I dumped the bucket of freezing water over them.

Rachel screamed, jerking upright and sending towels flying. Ethan bolted upright, his face pale with shock.

A shocked man in a spa massage room | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man in a spa massage room | Source: Midjourney

“What the hell?” he spluttered.

I dropped the bucket, standing tall. “Surprised? You shouldn’t be.”

“What are you doing here?” Ethan stammered, his eyes darting between me and the drenched sheets.

I stepped closer, my voice ice-cold. “Me? What are you doing here? Because last I checked, we couldn’t afford a vacation with our kids. But apparently, three grand for your work wife’s spa day wasn’t a problem.”

An angry woman in a massage room | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman in a massage room | Source: Midjourney

Rachel wrapped herself in a robe, her face red and blotchy. “This isn’t what it looks like—”

“Oh, be quiet,” I snapped, cutting her off. “Save your excuses for your husband. He’ll be getting a call from me shortly.”

Ethan tried to speak, but I raised a hand. “Don’t. You lied to me, Ethan. You humiliated me. Worst of all, you chose this — her — over your family.”

I took a deep breath, my hands shaking.

Close up of an emotional woman's face | Source: Midjourney

Close up of an emotional woman’s face | Source: Midjourney

“You’ll need to figure out where to live because there’s no place for you in our home anymore. I hope the two of you enjoy whatever this mess is because you just threw away everything for it.”

Staff were scurrying into the room at this point, alerted by Rachel’s screams, no doubt. I walked past all of them and left.

Back home, I wasted no time. Ethan’s clothes went into garbage bags.

Men's clothes being packed into trash bags | Source: Midjourney

Men’s clothes being packed into trash bags | Source: Midjourney

The lawyer I’d been too afraid to call was suddenly my best friend. And Rachel’s husband? Oh, he picked up on the first ring.

The fallout was spectacular. Ethan lost his family, and when word spread at work, both their reputations were dragged through the dirt. Rachel asked to be transferred to a different office, the last I heard.

Apparently, even workwives have limits when the office whispers turn savage.

A smiling woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

The kids and I went on that vacation after all. I booked us a whole week at a beachside cabin where we collected seashells and laughed until our sides hurt. At night, as the waves lapped the shore, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time. Freedom.

Trust is like a garden, I realized. Sometimes, you have to burn it down to grow something new. And for the first time in 12 years, I was ready to plant seeds for myself.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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