The best part of me I gave you. It was sacrificed.
"Demi," her father had died a month ago. The bad thing had happened more than a month ago, not that she had told anyone about it. She couldn't. She refused. She hadn't even told Wilmer about it because she wouldn't be able to deal with his reaction. So she kept her mouth shut and suffered silently. She was dealing with in her own way.
"Demi," Wilmer whined. She recognized the tone of his voice. It was his "I wanna have sex with you right now" voice and she didn't want to. Well, it wasn't that she didn't want to. She just couldn't. She couldn't give into him like she always did because she wasn't allowed to.
"Babe," he attached his lips to that spot right underneath her ear that always got her going. He climbed on top of her and pinned her down to the bed, groaning at the way her body unwillingly arched up into his like it was the most natural thing to do.
"Not tonight," she whimpered, slightly pushing him off of her so that he could look into her eyes and tell how serious she was. She wanted to be with him, she just couldn't allow herself to be with him in that way.
"What's on your mind?" Wilmer questioned and Demi shook her head. She didn't wanna talk about it.
"Baby, what's on your mind?" He locked eyes with her, caressing her face as she shook her head again and looked over at the far wall.
"I'll make you forget all about it, I swear," she forced herself not to cry, swallowing her tears down.
"We can't...we can't do it. We can't actually do it. Just foreplay babe, nothing else," Demi explained. That was okay, right? They had done it tons of times before and it's not like he would be hurting her.
"Promise me. Promise me that you won't go any further," Demi said, wanting to make him happy. She knew that she had been distant for a while and this was her making up for it.
"I promise I love you baby," his lips attached to that spot underneath her ear and they picked up right where they left off.
Sour neon gummy worms and frozen snickers bars and vanilla bean ice cream and Cinnabon bagels was emptied into the porcelain toilet bowl as Demi threw up what felt like everything that she had eaten in the past week. She used one hand to clutch her stomach and the other to push her hair behind her shoulders, gagging into the toilet bowl as tears mixed in with her stomach acid.
"Demi?" Dallas rushed into the bathroom, kneeling down next to Demi and pulling her hair away from her face as Demi continued to throw up.
"I can't breathe!" Demi gasped, her tears rushing down her cheeks even faster and she stopped throwing up, pulling her head out of the toilet and turning to her sister with an alarmed look on her face.
"I can't breathe!" She screamed and Dallas rubbed her shoulders, instantly recognizing the beginning of a panic attack.
"Demi, breathe with me. Make your breath match mine. Listen Demi," she grabbed her sister's hand and placed it against her heart, allowing Demi to feel the speed of her heart so that she could slow hers down and match her breathing.
"There you go," Demi slowly calmed down, allowing her breathing to match Dallas's.
"You're okay. Stop freaking yourself out. You're okay," Dallas petted down Demi's hair and allowed her head to rest in her lap. She reached forward and flushed the toilet, shutting the lid and continuing to calm Demi down as she silently wept. Demi didn't tell Dallas about the fact that her stomach was cramping up and it had been since her argument with Wilmer last week. It wouldn't stop. She had diagnosed herself with stress and had attempted to relax herself but she just couldn't. There was so much to be stressed over: her world tour, her music, Wilmer, Eiza, their baby, her baby, her health, etc, etc, etc. She had just a bit too much on her plate.
