"Sometimes, it's the happy memories that you make you the saddest," -C.T

Was I dead?

I had to be dead.

It felt like I was floating on air, unable to open my eyes or even move the slightest. I couldn't feel any pain nor could I feel anything around me.

"Cheyenne, open your eyes," I heard someone call out to me and all of a sudden, I felt a hand touch mine gently, bringing me back down from the brink of insanity. With a slosh of my brain and a slight ache, I forced my eyes open.

"W-where am I?" I whispered, feeling like my mouth was dry and full of cotton, my voice congested. I blinked several times to see that I was in a hospital of some sort, gauze and bandages wrapped around my left arm with IV's and systems attached to me like I was some comatose bitch. "What the hell happened?" I groaned, hating to be in the hospital.

"You're awake," I felt that same pressure on my hand and I turned to my left to see Davina and some strange man, Stefan, sitting there, her face contorted into relief as a tear slipped out of her eye. "You're okay, baby," She said, more so to herself than to me. I slowly looked over to the right, seeing another chair there with a jacket that looked like something I recognized.

Faded Glory.

"The patient has woke up, I see," I heard a cheery voice and I looked up to the entrance of the room, feeling delirious and wack as a doctor walked in, sanitizing his hands. "Mr. Thorn, my name is Dr. Brett Jamison and I was the one who performed surgery on you to get that bullet out," He stated in a sympathetic tone, walking over to me. Huh? I was shot?

He continued on, flipping the papers on his clipboard, unbeknownst to my panic attack. "The bullet was small and it didn't go that far inside your shoulder, so your wound should heal within the month. However, the bullet was most likely meant for your neck or for your heart since those places have many arteries, so I'd take it easy if I were you," I blinked back and forth, wanting to know who had it out for me, enough to warrant my death.

"Other than that, you are fine and you can be discharged within a few days after checking with your nurse. Feel better, Mr. Thorn," Dr. Jamison nodded to me with a smile before pressing a button on the IV machine on his way out.

I furrowed my brows in confusion before turning my gaze to Davina. "First of all, why is he here?" I pointed to Stefan, who looked completely shocked that I was addressing him. When we first met, I took an instant dislike to him because he was crowding in on my mother. "Cheyenne, son," Davina took a deep breath, clutching my hand as if she had something to say, something that was going to crush me.

"I'm going to divorce Sterling."

I blinked back and forth, making sure that I heard that correctly. "What?" I sputtered, unsure of how to feel. "It was a long time coming," She continued, not noticing my freakout. "I fell out of love with him years ago and I was staying because I didn't want to leave you. Yesterday was the last straw and it was enough for me to send the papers through," I stopped freaking out, looking to her as I picked up on her last words.

"What happened yesterday?" I questioned as she clenched her jaw in a bout of fury, turning on the television with ease. I stared at the screen as the news reporter came on and the headlines shocked me. "Just in, all-time business mogul with multiple hotel chains stationed in various parts of the world, Sterling Thorn, patriarch of the Thorn family, has just been arrested on account of multiple crimes!"

The video then faded to footage of Sterling in handcuffs being led by multiple police officers, sirens blaring, cameras flashing, and he looked utterly deranged and lost.

"As of April 13th, which was yesterday, Thorn has been arrested for counts of instigating sex trafficking of minors and women all around the states. Women who were involved in this have stepped forward, offering reports and clues. Furthermore, eyewitnesses put him at the scene on April 13th in which his son, Cheyenne Thorn, was shot in his own home."

Then it hit me like a sack of bricks as Davina muted everything.

That man, the same one who helped create me, was the same person who shot me? "I-I, uh," I couldn't form any words because I truly didn't know to feel. It was just like how I always knew: betrayal never came from your enemies. It was always from someone you know, someone who was close to you once upon a time. "Is that true?" I quietly lamented and my mother nodded sadly. "Pierre found the footage from your porch camera and it showed that he was there, ringing the doorbell."

Nothing I ever did was good enough for Sterling Thorn. None of the countless paintings that I made for him, hoping that he would recognize the true talent that I possessed, nor the high grades that I brought home for him to see was enough. The consistent need to work hard just so that he would tell me that he was proud of me, to tell me that I was the son that he always wanted just went out the door that same night. The father that I so desperately wanted back was gone and he was never coming back.

"Don't cry, baby," Davina's lips contorted into a frown as she kissed the back of my hand, trying to offer some comfort. "I'm not crying because I'm sad or anything like that," I shook my head, biting my lip. "I'm crying because I realized the deep truth about who he really is, the extent that he's willing to go just so he can come out on top," I took a deep breath, wiping the single tear. 

He was willing to kill me to prove a point and that right there shattered every single hope, every single memory, every single delusion I held of him.

And that hurt. 

"At least that bastard is done for," I snorted in disbelief, wanting to change the subject so that I didn't have to unpack how I felt at the moment. "That still doesn't explain why this douchebag is here," I narrowed my eyes at Stefan, who blushed in response. "Wait, don't tell me," I finally put two and two together, noticing how close he was sticking to her.

"You cougar." 

Stefan coughed awkwardly as my mother rolled her eyes, folding her arms with a blush. "The heart wants what the heart wants, my dearest Cheyenne," She smiled and I could tell that she was a lot happier. Her skin was so much more radiant and she was just bubbly, leaving behind that snake-like vice that she had when she was with that asshole. 

"Listen here, fucker," I growled at Stefan, wincing at the slight pain in my shoulder. I had never had the urge to defend my mother until now. "If you so dare break her heart or do anything to even make her shed the slightest tear, I will rip you from limb to limb before breaking your neck. Do you understand me?" I demanded and he nodded frantically, not wanting to be subjected to any more details of his death.

"I think that would be my line for your boy toy, don't you agree?" She raised a brow and I titled my head. "Who? Joaquin?" I replied and she nodded, putting her hand to her lips. "He was fighting with the nurses and the doctors because they wouldn't tell him anything about your condition," Davina chuckled before pushing my hair out of the way. "You really found yourself a keeper, hm?"

I fought the smile that threatened to eat my face whole when I heard about him. I was still mad at him, but it felt good to know that he was here. 

"Where is he at?" I murmured and she sighed, grabbing her things when she heard the doorknob turn. "He went to the bathroom and then to call someone," She said and then the door opened to reveal a tall man, brown locks ruffled, a face that looked utterly tired yet so happy to see me. He stood there, his mouth opened and all of a sudden, he threw whatever was in his hands on the table before running over to me.

"Baby, you're okay!" I felt big hands grab my face as Joaquin looked all over me, making sure that I wasn't hurting. "I'll take that as my cue to go," Davina winked at me, sensing my inner turmoil. "I'll stop by to see you tomorrow," She leaned down to kiss the side of my head as I glared daggers into Stefan as they exited. 

But I wished she didn't close the door behind her because when that click became audible and it was clear that we were the only ones in the room.

Joaquin slowly let go of my face to sit in that chair, coming to the conclusion that nothing was and will ever be the same. There was too much on our minds and not enough coming out of our mouths. How would we begin?

It was awkward between us, to say the least.

The last thing that we were talking about was how I felt like he didn't love me the same way I loved him because he, for whatever reason, didn't want to say it. I wanted to say that I didn't mind him not saying it, that I totally understood because we were humans and we were privy to fears and insecurities, but I just couldn't. 

Since he was the one who made me feel this darned emotion.

So we just looked at each other, amber into brown, trying to see if we could read what the other was thinking as we basked in the semblance of protection that was silence. It was as if we were trying to apologize without saying that, trying to fix the cracks, but it would only fare to be detrimental if we didn't face what we were afraid to talk about. 

"Turn down the lights, turn down the bed," I mumbled to myself, a heavy weight on my heart. If we didn't have this conversation, we were doomed before we even started and that fear ate away inside me. "Cause I can't make you love me if you don't," I reached out a shaky head to caress his cheek, biting my lip to keep me from crying like some pathetic little hoe. I never understood Bonnie Raitt's words until now because I felt just like she felt when she was singing. 

"If you're not going to say anything about the elephant in the room, Joaquin," It completely tore away at me to have to sit here and have this conversation because I didn't want to get my hopes up, only to have it snatched away. "Then what was the point of you staying here all this time?" 

I was in pain, I was tired. I was devastated if I was being honest. "I just learned that my sperm donor was the one who shot me," I shook my head, trying to understand how someone who helped create me could pull the trigger on me. Not just me, but any other child who had gone through similar things. "If you don't have anything to say, then please just leave me alone," I took my hand away from him, turning away from his pained gaze.

He looked as if he was grasping such a small concept, like he was having a hard time forming words and I almost wanted to laugh, had I have not been in so much pain, both mentally and physically.

"Cheyenne."

I gritted my teeth at the sound of my voice filled the room. "Don't go assuming things, please," Joaquin muttered quietly and I turned to look at him, seeing a tear roll down his cheek as he reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly. 

"You have no idea how much it hurt to see you laying there, not opening your eyes," His voice cracked deeply as he rubbed my hand against his forehead, trying to feel my hand to see if it was actually real. "God, I was so terrified," He sniffled, looking at me once more, his eyes filled with pain and his lips morphed into an agonized frown. "I didn't know what to think, Cheyenne," Joaquin bit his lip and my heart broke a bit, seeing the burden on him.

"Please don't think that I'm not over my wife's passing. I know she's gone, but I have made my peace with her as my first love," I nodded in understanding, trying to put it all together. "I miss Alyssa, I do, but I can't stand the idea of not losing you more." I could practically feel him trembling as he moved closer to me in his chair.

My eyes widened once I registered what he was saying to me, his lips quivering as he whispered a soft omen. "Do you understand me, Cheyenne? I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you."

So, he became a part of me just like I became a part of him. He felt the same way that I did, and it made me feel so relieved.

If only Joaquin and I had met each other some years ago, maybe we would have less emotional wounds. Maybe he wouldn't have such a crippling fear of losing someone, but I was here to say that I would love him anyway.

"Say it."

He blinked in confusion before it dawned on him what I was asking of him. "I'm not leaving you anytime soon so please, for me," I put his hand on top of my heart so that he knew that it was beating just for him. "Say it," I whispered and he stared at me, contemplating something with evident stress and worry before coming to a resolution and with a small smile on his lips, he uttered the one thing I wanted to hear.

"I love you, Cheyenne, with everything in me."

There was no way to describe what I felt hearing those words. It was like a cold pool of water just washed over me, soothing all of my worries and my sins. It wrapped around me like a warm blanket, comforting me and lulling me to sleep. It was everything that I needed.

"And I love you too, Joaquin," I finally smiled, moving over so that he could lay with me in this nice and big bed, courtesy of Davina and her billions. "Come on," I patted the empty space next to me and he wasted no time shrugging off his shoes before climbing in next to me, the smell of mint offering me a safe haven from everything that was happening. I couldn't think about anything but how good he made me feel as he held me in those big arms of his.

So, you're going to let me spoil you, right?"

"...do whatever you want."