Disclaimer - I don't own anyone affiliated with the WWE or whom ever had been... I only take credit for thos you don't know.
Rated- M for the adult content in the story
Summary- Sequel to Sweet Right Here... Three years after the first installment. The story of Cheyenne and Mark continues. What new trials and tribulations will be thrown their way?
A/N- Long and awaited and I hope that I can get the same people into this story that was into the last one... Not only that but I'm hoping to take the Mary Sue out of this story... By the way it's been so long since I posted anything new I wasa little nervous for putting this up... Thanks to DreamingEgypt for Beta-ing this one for me...
Please Read and Review
Thanks
Stacy
Chapter 1
"Good afternoon, Cheyenne. How are you feeling today?" Looking up from the spot on the tiled floor, I glance at Dr. Rice. I feel my heart stop beating for a second as it looks to me like he is forcing the smile that he is flashing my way.
Heaving a sigh, I wring my hands nervously together. "That depends." I answer him honestly. I had no idea what the results were of the test, but from the look on his face, it wasn't what I was hoping for.
Dr. Rice nodded his head. His facial expression appearing to be filled with mixed emotions. "Well." He sighed sitting down on the small rolling chair next to the table I was perched on. "The test results came back yesterday." He started, looking up into my eyes.
When he didn't continue my hope sank. I couldn't help but think that he was searching for the right words to tell me that my life as I knew it was indeed over. But then again, I had to hear him say it. I needed him to say the words that I had been dreading to hear for weeks. I had told no one of the possibilities that lay ahead of me. I had not even mentioned that I had seen a doctor. I didn't want anyone knowing until I knew, and yet the good doctor wasn't telling me anything yet. "And?"
Dr. Rice glanced away from me. It was only a mili-second, but I had seen his eyes shift. I had seen the grim look flash across his features and then as his gaze came back to me. I watched it dissipate into something that looked more to me like hopelessness. "It's positive." He answered, leaning forward in his chair.
Walking numbly from my doctors office, I couldn't seem to get my thoughts together. How could it be that the test was positive? How can my life just be starting and ending at the same time? Dr. Rice had told me to keep my head up, that once he gets the next set of blood back he will be able to tell me more and answer more of my questions. He told me to keep doing what I was doing, that there was no need to change my life just yet. But, how can I? How can I face Mark? How can I face my life when I don't know where it's going?
Suddenly my phone on my hip started ringing, bringing me from my thoughts. Unclipping it from my belt I didn't bother to look at the screen before answering.
"Chey? Princess are you ok?" Marks gravely voice filled the small metal object at my ear making me cringe. I couldn't talk to him. Not now. Not yet. I wasn't ready.
"I'm fine." I sigh heavily into the phone hoping he didn't press me about the issue. I couldn't answer him even if I wanted to.
I was wrong. "Darlin' are you sure? You don't sound like yourself. Where are you?" The questions just seemed to roll from him and I wasn't in any mood to answer them.
"Mark, I'm fine. I had an appointment this morning." I answer, a little more curt than I probably would've if I really wanted to discuss my morning.
"Chey, what is wrong with you? Why are you getting short with me?" He growled at me. "You didn't tell me about an appointment and you didn't even wake me before you left."
I could feel the anger in me rise at his tone of voice and I stopped walking right behind my car. NOW was not the time. I didn't need any of this shit right now. "Look, Mark, I didn't realize you were my Daddy or my keeper for that matter. I didn't know I had to start checking in with you when I felt the need to go somewhere!"
"Princess, what the FUCK is wrong with you all of a sudden? What happened to the woman I was with last night? Where did all this shit come from? What did I do wrong?"
Nothing. That's the thing, I didn't either. Everything was fine before I went to the doctor and he didn't do anything to deserve the way I was treating him. He didn't deserve to be with a woman that didn't even know what was going on inside of her own body. He needed a life full of laughter and I had promised him that. Now I wasn't so sure how long I could keep that promise, if even at all. "You know what, Mark? I can't answer any of those questions right now. I'll talk to you later."
"Damn it, Chey! Don't hang up! Talk to me, what's wrong?" He pleaded, his voice straining for control. I know he doesn't understand… but I don't either. The sound of his voice agitated me beyond belief, and I didn't know why. "Cheyenne, this isn't like you. You would never blow up for nothing. What happened today? What was your appointment about?"
I feel the tears welling up in the back of my throat, threatening to choke the life from me. I want to tell him… I do… but, I just can't bring myself to say the words. How do you tell someone that you had just agreed to share you life with, that you just found out that you have cancer? How do you tell him that the life you talked about the day before wasn't going to be what you thought it was? That I might not be around to see you in your rocking chair. Or to grow old with you. How do you drop that bomb on someone?
Swallowing the lump in my throat I snap my phone shut on him and raise my teary eyes to the bright sun above me. Almost immediately my phone rings again. I know it's him. I know he's angry. But, so am I. I don't want to die! I want to be sick! I don't want him to have to sit back and watch me suffer through Chemo treatments and radiation. No one should have to watch a loved one go through that.
Flipping my phone open I push the button to send him to voicemail. I need to disappear. I know the doctor said that the second test results would tell me more, but I can't help but fear the worst. A lot of the women in my family have suffered and lost the battle with cancer. Granted, I'm not really sure what type of cancer I have, but either way, it's not good. I've watched a few of my friends and family suffer through it and I've seen some of them survive, but does that mean I will.
Again my phone is ringing. Can't he take a fuckin' hint? Doesn't he know I just wanna be left alone? Snatching my phone from my hip I flip it back open and hit the little green button to answer his call. Instantly his voice charges at me as he hurtles words of pain and anguish. Not bothering to listen anymore, I lean down and place the phone directly under my tire and walk over to the door and as I unlock it I allow fresh tears to flow down my face. There is no way I would allow him to suffer with me. He needs more than what I can give, and my prayers are on the fact that he will one day understand my decision.
Climbing into the drivers seat of my car, I put the keys in the ignition and put the car in reverse. I would love nothing more at this point than to throw the car back in park and jump out to tell him it was all a big misunderstanding. That it was PMS making me act out and that I wouldn't let it happen again. But I know it isn't that easy. I'm sick and he will be all alone in the end anyway. Better to do it now than to know that I will be leaving him in short while anyway, right?
Easing my foot from the break petal I can hear the phone crunching under my tire. What's done is done and I know I can never go back to the way things used to be. My life as I know it is over.