Consequences

but then it poured.

Demi ran her hand over her flat stomach as she sat in front of the mirrors in her beauty room. She then ran her other hand over the yellowing bruise on her jaw line and the trail of purplish bruises from her collarbone down her arms. She dropped both hands and released a shaky breath as she laid down on the fluffy carpet. Five years. On and off, give and take. But five years. She was emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted. She was at the point where she couldn't take anymore, especially now. The two people who knew about what was going on had left the situation alone because they kept saying that she needed to get to the point where she was fed up with how he treated her - or mistreated her - and she finally was.

She couldn't even recollect the reasons behind the bruisings on her body. None of it made sense and she was tired of feeling like this, feeling worthless, feeling like she deserved to be at the hands of his abuse because she was always doing something wrong. Always wearing the wrong clothes. Always posting the wrong pictures. Always saying the wrong thing. It was always her fault, never his, and the weight of that had settled on her chest and it made it hard for her to breathe. She just had to get out. There was no way that she could live like this. Not anymore.

"So, I put the tests in my purse so that he won't see them. How are you going to tell him?" Lani asked as she came out of the bathroom that was connected to her beauty room.

"I don't know," Demi said, her hand ghosting over her stomach as she turned her head to watch Lani sit down next to her. "Can you stay here just in case?"

Lani silently nodded then laid down next to her, both of them just staring at the crystal chandelier that Trey's interior designer has specially delivered from Paris. Every piece of this house was meant for her but living here was hell. Trey had built this place from the ground up, not out of love but to make up for the fact that he threw her down the stairs after she asked if they could spend thanksgiving with her family, rendering her basically immobile for six weeks with a broken fibula and a sprained wrist. Then he had the house built and let her decorate it to her heart's desire. But it wasn't her dream home. It was her prison.

Demi heard the sound of the garage door opening, then five minutes later she heard the alarm beep twice, signaling that someone was entering from the back door and it literally caused her breath to catch in her throat. Lani grabbed her hand and squeezed it, letting her know that she was there for her no matter what before they both stood up and headed down the stairs.

Trey was in the kitchen, unpacking containers of takeout. Demi was scared to approach him, not completely sure of what mood he was in, so she didn't say anything until he noticed that she was standing there with Lani behind her.

"Hey baby," he casually greeted, halting his actions to peck her lips before going back to what he was doing. "You didn't tell me that you were having company today."

"She was just leaving," Demi mumbled, shooting Lani a knowing look and then a little nod before watching her exit the kitchen. She wasn't completely leaving but Trey didn't have to know that.

"How was your day?" Trey asked as Demi chewed on her bottom lip, fiddling with her fingers.

"It was...um okay."

"Are you feeling any better?" Trey questioned as Demi shrugged a little bit then moved to the other side of the counter, the side opposite to where he was standing.

"Can we talk?" Demi inquired as Trey furrowed his eyebrows.

"Are we not already talking?"

"Like talk about something serious..."

"What is it?" Trey said through a sigh as Demi nervously pushed her hair behind her ear.