"Maybe this time, it won't be as bad to start over," -C.T

"Who was that man?" I sipped on some tea that Tara brought me, watching her fold up my laundry. "Who?" I had no idea who she was talking about and I didn't care to know. "The really tall and cute one," She wasn't ringing a bell in my mind because I had no clue who she was referencing. "The one that was in here two days ago, wearing that white shirt?" It took me a good second to realize that she was talking about the poor boy.

I almost gagged at the fact that she found him remotely unattractive. Ew, all that plainness. "You mean Joaquin?" She nodded in response. "What of him?" I sipped my tea, staring at her warily. She wanted something, and she wanted it with a passion. "Hm, what did he want from you?" She questioned as she started putting my clothes away in the manner that I requested when she first started here.

Silk tops had its own corner as well as other materials on the left side of the closet, and silk bottoms and other materials had the right.

"I don't know. I didn't believe a word he said, so," I, with all the class that I had, let out a tiny burp, pardoning myself. "Hm, I think you should go talk to him," Tara offered and I stood up with cracks to my back. "And why is that?" I folded my arms, looking down at her as her cheeks bugged out on her face. "Because one can tell that he doesn't belong here," She stated and I wondered why she was telling me the obvious.

"But if he knew that and if he put that at risk to come check on you, that means something, Master," She huffed, with a little smile to her lips as if she was fantasizing about something. "Someone like him came all this way, stepped inside this house, just to see you? You need to go talk to him, Cheyenne," She restrained me with a stare, and I wondered how long it took before she would come barreling through my walls.

"Palo Alto Hills is no easy feat from San Jose if you aren't rich."

I placed my tea onto the bedside table and started walking to the bathroom. "Whatever. I have to go see him anyway," I thought back to the call that I had this morning with Vivi.

"If you leave at a certain time, you can catch Quino at the restaurant where he works, just off of 5th and East," I frowned at the way Tomas's dialect was rubbing off on her. Sooner or later, I'd have to deal with them two. "Are you saying that I have to enter uncharted territory?" I gulped at the thought, wondering if I needed to get someone from the military to protect me.

"Stop being a priss and go make up with him! The sooner you do this, the sooner we all can hang out." I frowned at the thought. "We discussed this. Why do I have to hang out with them?" I grunted in disgust and she heaved a groan. "Someone needs to keep Joaquin company since he cannot be alone," She stated the last part as if it was meant for only her to hear. I furrowed my brows at the comment, but said nothing because I didn't think that I was supposed to hear her say that.

"So I might as well go."

I thought that I heard her giggling and the thought of docking her pay crossed my mind as I went to get settled. "Can you pick me out my favorite Armani shirt?" I called out while fixing my hair in my bathroom mirror. My personal stylist wasn't here at the moment, so all of the duties fell on Tara. "Here's your outfit!" She beamed as she stepped in and I clicked my teeth. "Well, it's showtime."

It took me forever to get dressed, but even longer to find the restaurant, Daily Grille, but once I came upon it in my Bugatti, I realized that it was closed. Of course, places in San Jose closed as soon as they could.

"Well shit, I guess I don't have to see him now," I looked up to the night sky, the wind ruffling my shirt as the streets were calm and silent. It was almost peaceful, so peaceful that I could even feel some of my worries washing away.

I made my trek back to my car when all of a sudden, the flashing lights of a bar across the street caught my eye. It was mainly all glass, so I could see right through them and lo and behold, I landed on a pair of plain brown eyes.

I fought the urge to get hit by a car as I grudgingly stalked over, entering the classless bar. I shouldn't have worn my favorite Armani shirt because I was going to have to burn it with all the germs of the people that were in this infested place. If someone even dared to look at my car, I was calling my bodyguard.

"You seem like you're feeling better," I snorted at the sound of his voice as I sat down next to him, inwardly cringing at the cold metal of the seat. I really hoped that they disinfected these constantly. "Yea, I guess so," I hadn't dealt with my emotions nor did I plan to. "Why are you here, Cheyenne?" Joaquin grumbled as he downed the glass in his hand with ease. "Another one!" He yelled out to the bartender. "Can't a man just want to have a drink?" I chuckled and he cut his eyes at me. "You? In a place like this? You can't fool me," He surmised in such a tone, but the look on his face told me that he just wasn't himself.

"Rough night?" I leaned on my elbow, looking at him. Vivi should've been kissing my feet knowing that I was here, out of my own free will, to talk to someone who mattered almost nothing to me. 

"Something like that," Joaquin clicked his teeth, as he swirled around his fresh whiskey, the glint of his ring catching me as I listened to his dejected lament. I felt out of place, but even I knew Tara would have my head if I didn't at least offer a semblance of concern. Who did I think I was, allowing some maid to control what I did?

The world was ending.

"...so are you gonna tell me this story or not?" I glanced at him with impatience, telling myself that he wasn't going to tell me of all people. I needed to stop getting myself in affairs with people like him. 

Joaquin fixed me with a stare, rendering himself silent among the music and chatter of the illicit bar. I made moves to collect my keys, and he sighed heavily.

"My wife was my best friend growing up," He began with a sip of his whiskey. "She was the best person I ever knew. Alyssa was the most beautiful person I knew, so selfless, so caring, always wanting to put others before herself. It was only a matter of time before I fell hopelessly in love with her," The look on his face was of pure adoration and I found myself hanging onto every word.

"She never failed to keep me on my toes, not that I didn't want her to. She pushed me to be a better man and a better person. Somehow, we decided that we would marry when we were 22, probably too young for us at the time," He shrugged with a shake of his head as he stared at the countertop. "But we didn't care. We knew that we wanted each other," He softly smiled and I wondered what it was like to feel that way.

"I had given her everything, I would've given her the moon if she asked for it. That was how much I loved her, and I knew I made the right choice when she found out that she was going to have my child," He started grinning as his own mind played the memories through his eyes. "I knew I was the luckiest man on Earth. I had the best job, the best family, the life that I always imagined, all things that I worked hard for," His voice came to a low stutter as that grin slowly crumbled to dust.

Maybe he wasn't so bad.

"When she gave birth to our daughter," I was visibly shocked by the news of a child as he took a deep breath, shaking his head. I could tell that this was something bad because he started tapping his glass against the wood, inhaling sharply. "She was diagnosed with metastatic lobular carcinoma," I bit my lip as his eyes began to water.

Holy shit. My mouth fell open into a gasp as he continued on, his lips trembling as he fought for composure.

"She had breast cancer and the sad part about it was," Joaquin looked at me, not bothering to conceal the tear that fell from his eye. "It was too late for us to do anything about it because it had already spread to other parts of her body. In a frenzy and with panic, I pushed for her to go through chemo, maybe it would've helped," Joaquin sighed heavily, palming his face.

"But it did nothing."

I could feel his pain radiating from his body, permeating the air and I looked down, trying to imagine what that felt like. I shouldn't have been caring about his feelings, but I found that I was.

"When she died, I lost everything," His voice was a doubtful whisper and I fought the urge to pat his shoulder. "I lost my wife, then a year later, my home, and just three years ago, my daughter. Through it all, I lost myself," His careless confession slammed directly into my chest and I could really relate to what he was feeling. 

Even I could pick up the worthlessness, the failure that he thought himself to be, the empty yet broken shell he fought so hard to keep together. 

I didn't know how to comfort other people because I was still trying to let other people comfort me, if they did. I knew those feelings too well because it was the same few that erupted in me when Christine left. I looked at him, realizing that he wasn't who I thought he was. Maybe he was, but the only person that I could see right now was someone who understood.

For the first time, I ignored Sterling's voice in the back of my head. 

I cleared my throat, trying to figure out what to say. What could I say? Nothing. Vivi was going to give me all the praise in the world for what I was gonna do next. I forced myself, with all intent, fighting through an aneurysm as I gritted my teeth.

"You know, I'm sorry for what I said about her," He stared straight at me, appreciation written in his eyes as he nodded. "For the record, she sounds like she was an amazing woman," He nodded once more in agreement. "Yea, she was," I let my gaze fall to the floor, feeling a bit uncomfortable and awkward because I didn't know how to navigate conversations like this.

"And I'm sorry too," He nudged me with his shoulder and I scowled at the way he easily touched my Armani. We didn't need a repeat of how we met. "For saying that you were like your father. For the record," He smirked with a mischievous glint. "You're a tad bit better," He teased and I rolled my eyes, letting his words slide for now.

The silence between us was a reminder of a beautiful moment under the moonlit stars, and as he turned to me, his skin shining under the glow of the bar, the sound of a thump from my chest sounded in my ears. Was that my heart? Nah.

"This probably the first conversation that we've had, and we aren't trying to rip each other's head off." The lips of my mouth quirked up the rendered observation that left his lips. I tapped my chin, making way to leave. I had nothing else to do here and since this individual was on a level of tolerance, I supposed that this was enough interaction between us.

I turned around to walk away, but then stopped to whirl around on my heel, my hand held out for him to take. Both of his bushy brows were raised to the top as he looked at me. "Hello, my name is Cheyenne Alexander Thorn," I said in my most respectable voice, a sincere smile on my face, watching him mirror the action with a smirk. Maybe this would be our do-over. 

"I'm 24 years old and I like to paint. Nice to meet you," He chuckled to himself before taking my hand, staring deeply into my eyes. Normally I'd say that they were plain and boring, but right now, they looked like luminous pools of honey.

"Oh, we're doing this?" He squeezed my hand, the first time we had ever had physical contact. His hand was a lot softer than I expected it to be. "In that case, the name's Joaquin Adrian van Zante and I'm 32," I nearly choked on my saliva when I heard how old he was. That would explain why he and Tomas took to teasing Vivi and me about our ages. "I guess I like to build things and it's nice to meet you too," He tilted his head down with a teasing smile on his lips. "Rich boy."

I raised a brow, not hearing any antagonism in his voice. "So, poor boy," I leaned forward, stepping into his personal space with a smirk on my lips, staring up at him. He was confident, but he had nothing on me.

"Can I get your number?"