Setting: Kim's Condo, Miami Beach, FL
"I'm just confused as to why you're mad at me instead of being mad at your husband for going to visit someone who he said he didn't sleep with, and for advertising that he's on a boat with strippers on snapchat," Kim defended, backing up a little bit because she knew that Demi was trying to resist the urge to fight her, and she really wasn't about to get into a physical fight with Demi.
"It confuses me how you're confused that we're constantly butting heads when you hired a private investigator to follow my husband around for no reason. I don't know why you feel like you need to be involved in every aspect of my fucking life, Kim. You had no right to hire a fucking private investigator on my husband!" Demi exclaimed as Kylie just looked between the two. Demi was seething and Kim was trying not to get punched in the face.
"Okay, then stop fucking whining about how you don't trust your own husband and then not doing anything about!"
"It's not your place to butt into my fucking personal life! I'm so fucking over this! You need to get the fuck out of my face," Demi seethed, marching past Kim to go into her bedroom, making a beeline towards the rack where all of her Yeezy outfits were arranged.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Kim demanded to know, watching her grab half of the clothes off of the rack into her arms and march back out. Demi headed towards the balcony and slid it open with her elbow before throwing the clothes over the edge. They were right on the beach, so the clothes went right into the sand, effectively ruining them. "Demi, those are my Yeezy outfits!"
"I don't care what they are. That should be enough clothes for the rest of the time you're here because I don't even want to fucking see you anymore!"
"Demi, this is MY house. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Fine, then I'll leave." Demi roughly brushed past her, shoving her with her shoulder and nearly knocking her to the floor as she went back to her room. She slammed the door behind her and went to her open suitcase on the floor, hastily throwing her things back in there. Someone knocked on the door, but Demi ignored them, only focusing on getting her things all packed up. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Kylie walked in, quickly closing the door behind her and silently starting to help Demi pack her things up.
"Mom said the jet should be ready in an hour and Max will pick you up from LAX when you arrive," Kylie said, zipping Demi's suitcase as she closed her duffle bag and grabbed her phone off of the charger. "Do you want me to go back with you?"
"No...I think I just need to be by myself," Demi quietly said, throwing her sweatshirt over her head before grabbing her purse.
"I don't mean to be the devil's advocate here, but you know Kim was just trying to look out for you right? I mean, she's super protective of you and she's been that way since the whole Joe Jonas PR breakup thing..."
"I don't really want to talk about it. I'm just going to go home and get my head together and just...I don't know."
"Okay, well I'll make sure we pick up your dress before we leave."
"I don't think I'll need it anymore, but okay. Thanks Ky," Demi said, wrapping the younger girl in a hug, squeezing her softly before pulling away and putting her duffle bag on top of her suitcase. "I'll text you when I land."
Kourtney and Khloe mumbled their goodbyes as she left, but Kim was smart enough not to say anything. The driver was already waiting downstairs to take her to the airport, and Demi rested her head against the window after pulling her hood over her head because she didn't want to deal with paparazzi. She didn't want to deal with the world. In less than an hour, she was on a private jet heading back to California and desperately trying to put this whole nightmarish weekend behind her.
It had all started when they were at an early dinner and Trey, Odell, and some of the other players on the Giants had started to post videos of them partying on a boat. Demi wasn't surprised – Trey had texted her that he was in Miami after all – and she was fine with him enjoying himself the same way she had been, but then he had made some video bragging about some guy who delivered anything they wanted to the boat, including strippers, and then he had taken a video of the said stripper shaking her ass just for him. The whole situation was bold as fuck, and any anger that she had towards him that had slowly been dissipating returned, and now she was more pissed than she had been before.
To top it all off, Kylie had come into her room while she was angrily writing and rewriting messages to Trey, blurting something about Kim hiring a private investigator to get to the bottom of the whole Trey situation, and how TMZ was never going to break the story about him visiting Elysandra. That's what had prompted their fight and just thinking about the whole thing was giving her a headache. She actually did understand that Kim was trying to protect her but meddling in her life wasn't the way to go. Thinking about it, Demi wasn't even that angry at Kim. They had just caught her at a bad time, and she ended up lashing out, but she really wanted to lash out at Trey.
Although Kim shouldn't have hired a private investigator – literally who does that – Trey should've opened his mouth and spoke to her about this whole thing and then this whole fight could've been avoided. Demi wasn't even sure what she wanted to say to him, or what she wanted him to say to her. She had already kicked him out, so what else was there to really do? She didn't want to completely break things off, but something had to be done.
Setting: Kris's House, Calabasas, CA
Kris honestly tried her best not to get that involved in her children's' lives until they wanted her involved, but sometimes she just couldn't help it. It also didn't help that she was their manager, so she had her nose in everything, and sometimes that meant doing a little bit of meddling in their personal lives to get to the bottom of things. When Demi came to her about the whole Trey and Elysandra situation, she wasn't sure what to do or say about the whole thing. It wasn't anything that she ever had to deal with before, so she first did what she did best: she threw an NDA at the situation and forced Elysandra to sign a very binding document, basically saying that she would keep her mouth shut about this whole thing after clarifying that the baby wasn't Trey's. Once that was done, she decided to go to the source of the problem: Trey.
After about their third year together, Kris had figured that Trey and Demi were not going to break up anytime soon so she may as well get used to it, just like she did with Kourtney and Scott. Just like Kourtney and Scott, the constant back and forth was annoying, and Kris had hinted several times that maybe this just wasn't a relationship that Demi needed to be in, but she had her mind set on Trey. And Kris knew they were in love, but their relationship was so intense that she just stopped herself from getting involved. That was until today. As soon as she heard that Trey was back from Miami, she invited him over for a nonconfrontational lunch. No cameras. No microphones. No one else. Just the two of them so that they could have a heart to heart about the relationship that was tearing her daughter apart.
"Thank you so much for joining me today. I know you probably weren't expecting me to invite you over without Demi," Kris said as they sat down at her table outside, shielded from the sun as she fixed her dishes on the table.
"Not really, but I appreciate the invitation," Trey said, because it was a little weird that Kris wanted to talk to him without Demi there – because he was positive that Kris didn't like him – but he went along with it because he knew that Demi's relationship with her family was important to her, especially her relationship with Kris.
"Go ahead and help yourself. I know you don't like fish, so I figured pasta was safe," Kris said, gesturing to the chicken alfredo in the middle of the table.
"So uh, what'd you want to talk about?" Trey asked after dumping a healthy amount of alfredo in his bowl and grabbing a steaming piece of garlic bread.
"I don't want you to think that I'm interfering in your relationship or trying to get in the middle of the two of you because I'm really not. But I don't like to see my children hurt, and Demi was very hurt by what you did. I heard her side of the story, but I just want to hear yours because maybe I missed something and she's overreacting or..."
"She's not overreacting," Trey defended, because after weeks of the cold shoulder, that's the conclusion that he had reached. She wasn't overreacting. She wasn't being emotional or irrational. If the roles had been reversed, he would've reacted the same way – maybe even worse. After hearing about the weekend that she had had – thanks to Kylie – compared to the weekend he had, he felt like shit, and he just wanted to go home and make things right. That's the main reason why he agreed to meet with Kris. He was hoping that he would help her.
"Really? Because she said that you said-"
"I know. And I am the world's biggest asshole. She's not overreacting. I don't think she ever has overreacted or been wrong for how she's felt about certain things. I'm just tired of us fighting and me making her cry and not fully listening to her and understanding where she's coming from. I now understand that I was in the wrong, but it might be too late for me to do anything about it."
Kris smiled as she thought about the dress that had been delivered from the wedding boutique in Miami earlier this morning. "It's not too late, trust me. You just need to do something to show her that you understand and from now on you will be more conscious of her feelings and take what she's saying into account. You guys are married. You're partners for life now. When Demi loves, she loves hard, and she's not going to give up your relationship so easily."
"You think so?"
"Trust me, I know," Kris said as Trey nodded.
"Do you think you could help me then? I don't want to go back home until I know what I'm going to do and say to her to make up for all of this mess."
"Definitely."
Setting: Demi and Trey's House, Beverly Hills, CA
When Trey made it back to their house after meeting with Kris, he was expecting Demi to be there. He had been texting Kylie on and off weekend to check up on her, and she said that they were all coming back from Miami on Sunday morning, but Demi was nowhere to be found. He pulled his phone out and dialed her number, putting it on speaker and hoping that she would answer, but after a few rings, he was sent to voicemail. He knew that she was still mad – and honestly, she had every right to be – but the least she could do was answer her phone. He was just trying to make sure that she was okay.
Trey: hey, are you still coming home today?
Demi: no...attending a few meetings in NY with Ky...I'll be back by Wednesday. Take care of my dogs pls. you're still not allowed to sleep in my bed.
Trey: OUR dogs. OUR bed.
Demi: bye.
Because he knew her so well, he knew that she was trying to stop herself from smiling at him reminding her that everything that they had was now theirs, and that just motivated him even more to truly get himself together and fix this mess that he had caused. Because he wanted to share everything with her for the rest of his life, and he didn't want that to change over some stupid fight.
Three days later...
Demi released a deep breath as she closed the main door of the house behind her, letting her head rest against the cool material as she tried to calm her thoughts. She hadn't checked to see if Trey's car was in the driveway so she didn't know if he was home or not. The last time that she had talked to him was last night when she texted him that they would be coming back in the morning. All she wanted was some alone time and some peace and quiet. That's why she left her baby pink Calpak suitcase by the door and trudged up the stairs, letting her hand lazily trail along the railing before she made it to the second floor where her room awaited her at the end of the hall. She pushed the door open and thanked God that she was already in a comfortable outfit, so she didn't have to worry about changing. Pulling the covers back on her side of the bed, Demi slid underneath them, burying herself under them as she closed her eyes and released another deep breath. She was seriously so tired and all she wanted to do was sleep for the next five hundred years. In fact, she kind of wanted to sleep and never wake up again.
Dozing in and out of consciousness, she didn't register the sound of the door opening, or the pitter patter of her dogs' paws on the floors. She didn't notice that anyone had come in until the weight on the side of the bed dipped and the covers were pulled off of her face to reveal Trey staring down at her.
"Hey..."
"Hi," she breathed out, her eyes watering just at the sight of him because she knew she was supposed to be mad at him, but they had spent a lot of time apart and she was seriously just tired of fighting.
"You okay?"
"Yeah..." she dry sobbed, causing Trey to run his fingers through her hair just the way she liked it, leaning down to kiss her cheek as some of her tears started to slide down her face.
"Is it okay if I lay with you?" Trey asked, causing Demi to nod as she scooted over a little bit. She tried not to let her little whimpers escape her throat as Trey slid in next to her, wrapping his arms around her and letting her head rest on his chest as he continued to comb his fingers through her scalp.
"Demi, I'm sorry..." he apologized, which just caused her to cry harder. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for not listening, for not communicating, for not taking your feelings seriously...for making you feel crazy because of the way you feel. I'm so sorry. I'm going to do better, okay? I swear."
"Okay." Demi wasn't sure if she believed him, but nothing felt better than being in his arms, and she was too tired to push him away, so instead she snuggled closer to him – if that was even possible – and let his warmth engulf her very being. Because being with Trey did hurt, it hurt a lot, but being away from him hurt a hell of a lot more. Love was one hell of a drug.