"Trey?" It was Dallas and not Demi like he was hoping. It was Sunday night and Demi had been gone for a full day with no signs of coming back. Their argument was bad just like they had been for a while but he just needed to know that she was safe, that she was okay. He was so close to filing a missing person report but she hadn't been gone for 48 hours so he couldn't.
"Yeah?"
"Do you know where Demi is? She was over here earlier and I was worried about her because she seemed a little...off when she left...have you seen her? Is she there with you?" Dallas questioned, trying as hard as she could to advert that panic attack that she could feel coming on. Something was wrong with Demi after she left earlier that morning. Dianna had called and Dallas hadn't heard the full conversation but she could guess about what was being said.
"No but I know Jonathan drove her this morning so I'll call and ask him where she went. I'll call you back when I find her," Trey reassured her, wondering why he hadn't thought of that earlier. Jonathan had picked Demi up and he hadn't returned since to see if he needed to go anywhere.
"Okay...thank you," and then Dallas hung up. Trey stuffed his wallet and his keys into the pocket of his jeans before rushing out of their house and straight to his car.
Demi hadn't left the church, even after everyone else did. There was staff there cleaning up and the choir had come back for rehearsal but Demi still didn't leave. She needed to eat something and her throat was dry and she could feel the exhaustion from the day weighing down on her body but she still didn't move.
Only did she flinch when she felt someone's arm wrap around her and pull her close. She couldn't relax until she caught a whiff of the familiar Giorgio Armani cologne that she had gotten for Trey on Valentine's Day, and then she practically melted into his arms.
Yes she was upset and angry, but Trey could always make her feel better. They were best friends before they started any type of relationship so he just had that effect on her.
"What do you want?" Trey asked, and the question took her by surprise. He was talking low enough so that the choir couldn't hear him but loud enough so that she could. She turned her head and looked at him in confusion.
"What do you want, Demi? Nothing has been easy for you lately and I realize that. I also realize that I'm not helping and taking care of you like I should. So tell me, what do you want? All that I have ever wanted is what's best for you, and I don't want you to leave, so whatever you want, and whatever you need...I'll do it for you," Trey explained with as much sincerity in his voice as there had been when he had proposed to her. Demi squeezed her hands together and took a deep breath. What did she want?
"I...I want some food," she stuttered, bringing one of her hands up to her mouth to chew on the skin around her thumb nail. Her hunger was just now creeping up on her and making itself known and she couldn't ignore it any longer.
"I want some food and a hot bath and one of those expensive Cuban cigars that you smoke. I wanna smoke one with you in the hot bath after we've finished our food. Can we do that?" Demi asked, looking over at him as she pushed some of her hair out of her face so that he could see the dark bags that ravished her underneath her eyes and the paleness of her skin and how cold and dead her eyes were.
"Yeah, we can. Come on baby." Trey stood up and then helped her up. She had been sitting for a while so she had to lean against him to make sure that her legs didn't fail her and cause her to hit the ground in her nice church attire. Trey led her out of the building and to his car, dismissing Jonathan for the night before driving off to someplace that they could eat.
As promised, they had gotten something to eat at a nice little jazz bar tucked in between a book store and a vintage shop, and Demi had eaten a full meal along with half of Trey's food as well. Surprisingly, they had talked and laughed and actually communicated with each other. The subject of the sex tape had not been brought up and for the night, in that musky little bar with the well seasoned food and the bluesy jazz singers, all of their problems seemed to be forgotten.
