Cheyenne
Usually when something major happens—a show announcement, a tour, a breakup, or a scandal—my phone starts blowing up before I even open my eyes. Mom will call every five minutes, my team starts circling, and my personal assistant will rattle off my agenda, telling me where I’m supposed to be next.
Today there’s nothing.
Just sunlight pouring through the windows of Knox’s kitchen, along with the scent of coffee and the sounds of him making breakfast. I’m filled with a strange feeling that for once, the world isn’t dragging me somewhere I don’t want to go.
My phone rings on the kitchen counter. Without glancing at the screen, I know who it is.
Knox looks over from the stove where he’s making eggs. “You gonna answer that?”
It’s so tempting to let it go to voicemail. Instead, I suck in a deep breath and pick it up.
“Hey, Mom. How are you?”
“It’s been days, Cheyenne. I was wondering when you were going to give me a call.”
I lean back against the counter, my gaze drifting to Knox as he turns off the burner.
“Actually, later this morning. I have some news to share.”
“I already saw the articles.”
I frown. “What articles?”
“The ones about Dakota being arrested. They’re everywhere. You really should have let us know so we could release a statement.”
I close my eyes for a second as my brain somersaults. She doesn’t bother asking how I’m doing or if I’m all right. Her only concern is how we’ll spin the story.
“He showed up at a restaurant and cornered me in the bathroom before grabbing me, Mom. I’m pretty sure he’d been drinking.”
“I’m not saying he didn’t overstep,” she replies smoothly. “But couldn’t it have been handled better? You should have called the team for damage control. That’s what we pay them for.”
My fingers tighten around the phone, the old instinct to brace and swallow it down rising so fast it almost catches me off guard. For just a second, I feel sixteen all over again instead of twenty-six. My mother has a knack for making me feel small.
“I filed a restraining order.”
There’s a pause. “Well, the media will have a field day with that. Perhaps we can roll it into the promo for the new season.”
My stomach twists.
“I assume now that the Dakota issue is taken care of, you’ll be returning home.”
My gaze shifts to Knox. He doesn’t interrupt or hover. He simply watches me with a steady expression that somehow makes it easier for me to breathe.
“Filming starts soon,” Mom continues. “There’s so much for us to do. I’m thinking you get a makeover for the new season. Maybe extensions.”
My chest constricts as she continues talking. For one split second, I feel that old familiar pressure to fold, to smooth it over, to go along so everyone else is happy.
And then it dissolves as I straighten my spine. “Mom.”
“You’ll come home and we can reset. You’ll see, everything will go back to normal.”
Normal.
Normal means pretending to be a version of myself I’ve outgrown, and smiling when I don’t want to. Normal means letting other people dictate my life while I quietly stand on the sidelines.
I glance at Knox again. He gives a slight nod, as if silently encouraging me to tell her the truth.
My gaze stays locked on him. “I’m not coming home.”
The silence from the other end of the line is deafening.
“I’m sorry? What?”
“I’m not coming home,” I repeat, stronger this time.
“Cheyenne,” she says carefully, as if talking to a child who’s about to ruin their life, “you’re upset, and that’s understandable, but this isn’t the time to make emotional decisions.”
The old version of me would have panicked and backtracked. She would have tried to explain herself until my mother approved.
I don’t do that.
“I’m not being emotional.”
“Of course you are. You had a scare with Dakota, and you’re in a different city, surrounded by people you don’t normally spend time with—”
“I auditioned for Broadway.”
There’s a pause.
“You did what?”
I lift my chin, even though she can’t see me do it, as pride swells in my chest. “I auditioned for a part and I got it.”
That announcement is met with silence. I can almost hear her recalculating, trying to figure out how to fit this into the version of my life she already planned out for me.
“That’s… wonderful,” she says finally, but I can already hear the wheels turning. “Think of the exposure. We can work it into the show, maybe even film some behind-the-scenes—”
“I don’t think you understand, Mom. I’m staying in Chicago.”
“Cheyenne—”
“I’m doing the production here,” I continue calmly. “And I won’t be coming back to LA. Not right now. Maybe not ever.”
Her tone sharpens. “You don’t make decisions like this without talking to me.”
For the first time in my life, those words don’t make me feel sick or guilty. They just make me tired.
I release a slow breath. “I just did.”
Fury vibrates through her next question. “This is about him, isn’t it?”
I look at the man I’ve fallen in love with.
His gaze is locked on mine as I admit, “Knox is definitely part of it.”
“You barely know him,” she snaps. “You’re caught up in some love affair. Trust me, it happens to the best of us, but that doesn’t mean you throw away everything you’ve built.”
“I’m not throwing anything away.”
“You’re risking your career. Your livelihood. You need to understand that as soon as you step out of the spotlight, it fades.”
“No,” I say quietly. “For the first time ever, I’m following my heart and doing what I want.”
The words hang between us. They’re true in a way that makes my throat burn.
“You’ll regret this, Cheyenne. I know you will.”
Maybe she really believes that. And maybe the old me would have too. But as I stand in Knox’s kitchen with a life stretched out in front of me that finally feels like mine, I don’t.
“Maybe,” I admit. “But it’s my mistake to make.”
She exhales sharply. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“No,” I say evenly. “We won’t.”
There’s something about finally ending a dysfunctional pattern instead of feeding into it that makes me feel a hundred pounds lighter.
“I love you, Mom,” I add, softer now. “But I’m staying.”
Instead of waiting for a response, I end the call. My hand shakes as I lower the phone to the counter. For just a second, I stand frozen, my heart pounding against my ribs as the adrenaline works its way through my system.
Knox slips his arms around me before dropping a kiss against the top of my head. “How do you feel?”
“Surprisingly good. That went better than I expected.”
His mouth twitches. “Are you telling me that could’ve gone worse?”
“Are you kidding me?” I release a shaky breath. “She could have had a stroke when I told her I wasn’t coming back.”
A quiet laugh rumbles through him as his arms tighten around me. “I’m proud of you, baby. Proud of you for standing up for yourself and following your heart.”
Emotion rises within me. “Thanks.”
I fist his shirt and tug him down until his mouth meets mine. His hands slide to my waist, anchoring me in place as he pulls me in, like he doesn’t want even an inch of space coming between us.
After we finally break apart, he rests his forehead against mine. “I love you, Hollywood.”
I smile through the sting in my eyes. “I love you too.”
His thumb sweeps over my cheek. “Whatever comes next, we’ll handle it together. Promise.”
For the first time in my life, my future feels wide open. And if I’m lucky, Knox McNichols will be standing right beside me for every part of it.