Chapter 28

Cheyenne

Everything happened quicklyafter Ivan came rushing onto the patio to tell me he had to leave. His mother had been in a car accident and was in surgery. His aunt had told him it was fairly serious, so although he'd told me I didn't have to leave Thanksgiving dinner, I'd insisted on going with him. He'd been on the phone to the airlines within minutes, and I'd told him to book a flight for me as well.

Within a few hours, we'd been in the air to Buffalo, and now we were in a rental car heading for the hospital. Ivan had been quiet and subdued for most of the flight, and I hadn't known how to reassure him. From what his aunt had said, his mother had been rushed to surgery after a drunk driver ran a red light and hit her on the driver's side. There had been internal bleeding, a punctured lung, and myriad other injuries, so it was serious.

Mostly, I'd tried to hold his hand and just be there for him in whatever way I could.

Though he didn't see her often, I knew they were close, and he would be devastated if anything happened to her.

"Aunt Gayle." He called to a petite, silver-haired woman and she hurriedly came over to us, pulling Ivan in for a hug.

"This is Cheyenne," he said, after a moment. "Chey, my Aunt Gayle."

"Very nice to meet you." I smiled politely, though it was odd that he didn't call me his girlfriend, and simply introduced me by name. I always called him my boyfriend, so it left me feeling unsettled. He was distracted by what was going on with his mom, but it felt like he should have been holding me tighter instead of pushing me away emotionally.

"She's out of surgery," Gayle said quietly. "She came through okay, but it was touch and go for a while. Her injuries were severe, but they stopped the bleeding and removed her spleen. There were some other things, but I'm a little overwhelmed with details right now. She'll be in ICU at least for tonight, so they can watch her, but the prognosis is good."

"Thank god." Ivan let out a huge sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry we're meeting you under these circumstances," Gayle said to me. "We've heard so much about you."

Well, that made me feel a little better.

"I'm sorry too," I said. "But hopefully Ivan's mother is on the mend."

"The first twenty-four hours are critical, so now we wait."

"Is she awake yet?" Ivan asked her.

"No. They said it'll probably be tomorrow. They're keeping her heavily sedated so she can rest and heal."

"Of course." He hesitated. "I don't know what to do. Should I stay with her?"

"They won't let you stay overnight in the ICU. You can go see her, but she's asleep. I think it's best if we all go home and come back in the morning."

He hesitated but seemed to give in. "Yeah, all right."

"Are you hungry?" she asked as we walked toward the elevators. "There's a house full of leftovers since most of us came straight to the hospital."

"I could eat," Ivan said, glancing at me. "We left without dinner, and I didn't have any appetite on the plane."

"I'm hungry too," I said.

"Why don't we stop by the house and you two can eat. Then you can go on to your mom's." She paused. "Are you staying at the house or in a hotel?"

Ivan looked startled. "I hadn't given it much thought. All I could think about was getting here. But I figure we'll stay at the house. It's easier. And more private. At a hotel, Chey could get recognized, and I'd rather not deal with the media right now."

"All right. I'll see you at the house."

We walked outside together, and Aunt Gayle headed in the opposite direction from where we'd parked.

"Do they live close to each other?" I asked him. "Your mom's sisters?"

"Yes. There's four of them and they all live within ten miles of each other. They spend a lot of time together. That's why Mom opted to come back here after the divorce."

"It sounds nice to have a relationship like that with your siblings. I don't know that I'll ever be that close to Wyatt."

"I don't know my half-siblings at all," he said as he started the engine. "I know they exist because Dad tried to get me to come to Russia to meet them after they were born, but I had no interest. He abandoned Mom and me when we moved back to the US, so I told him I didn't want any kind of relationship with him. When he died, we hadn't spoken in a couple of years."

"I'm sorry. That sounds…sad."

"He was an asshole. But he was my father. Mom's all I have left. I mean, yes, I have my aunts and uncles and cousins, but it's different. My mom and I lived through hell, and she gave up everything to protect me. My dad wasn't a great husband, but she had a nice life in Russia. We were wealthy. She didn't have to work. When we left, there was no way to sue Dad for child support or alimony in Russia, so we literally started over with what we'd been able to fit in our suitcases and a few thousand dollars mom had managed to save over the years."

"That's what moms do," I said gently, reaching for his hand.

"I know, but the idea of something happening to her… it's terrifying."

"She's going to be okay," I said softly, even though we both knew that was something people said to make others feel better. "Have faith."

"I'm doing my best."

* * *

I meta ton of random family members when we got to Gayle's house. People had gathered there while awaiting news of Ivan's mom, whose name was Greta. Everyone seemed close, talking about how they were going to pitch in to help take care of her once she was home, discussing meal trains and who was going to drive her to follow-up doctors' appointments.

It was a sweet, loving dynamic, and I couldn't help but wish I had something similar.

Would I fit in here if Ivan and I were together long-term?

He'd told them about me, which was nice, but I was still confused about the way he'd introduced me to his aunt. "This is Cheyenne" wasn't the same as "This is my girlfriend, Chey." And for some reason, it was still bothering me.

This wasn't the time to bring it up, though.

Everyone was talking about Greta, the accident, and how to best care for her going forward, including Ivan. He'd already told Coach Vanek that he wouldn't be back for practice tomorrow and most likely wouldn't be back Saturday for the game either.

"Chey, would you like more?" Another one of Ivan's aunts, Rita, asked me.

"No, thank you. I'm stuffed."

"You barely ate anything!" she protested.

"She's a model, Ma," one of his cousins said. "She can't eat like we do."

They talked around me, discussing healthy weights and portion size, and a million other things they perceived were important in modeling, without letting me get in a word edgewise. Ironically, I enjoyed it because normally, people had a million questions for me and sometimes I simply didn't want to admit to having to starve myself before photo shoots. How I had to watch almost everything I put in my mouth. How even five pounds could potentially show on camera, especially if I was in a bathing suit.

Those were the less glamorous parts of modeling that most people didn't want to hear, and I tried not to complain because I made a lot of money.

"Have they worn you out yet?" Ivan asked after we'd been there an hour.

"No, I'm fine. Your family is wonderful."

A flicker of surprise crossed his face and then he nodded. "Yeah, they're pretty great. I'm glad you got to meet them."

"Me too. I've been hoping I would meet your mom soon."

"I assumed you'd meet her at Christmas."

He'd mentioned that she was coming to L.A., but I hadn't wanted to assume we would spend the holidays together.

"We hadn't really talked about Christmas yet," I said. "So I wasn't sure."

"Yeah, we haven't talked about a lot of things," he said.

"I was thinking the same thing," I admitted. "But this doesn't seem like the time."

"No." He was quiet for a beat. "Probably not."

"Look, you don't need to think about any of that, okay? I'm here for you. We can talk about all the other stuff when things are calmer."

"All right." He looked over at where his aunts had gathered, talking in hushed voices. "Let me go see what the aunties have in mind for tomorrow, and then we can take off okay?"

"Sure." I watched him go just as my phone buzzed and I saw there were a handful of texts from Stevie. She hadn't gotten to L.A. yet, claiming she had a lot going on, but my gut told me Damien hadn't wanted her to leave. If she'd told him about the baby, he probably never would.

STEVIE: Hey, are you around? I need to talk to you.

STEVIE: You're probably celebrating Thanksgiving with your family. I'm at Damien's and it's just the two of us. He's in a really weird mood. I'm afraid he figured out what's going on. I really need to talk to you.

STEVIE: I guess you're not looking at your phone. Well, I hope you're having a good day. Call me when you get a chance.

STEVIE: Hey, it's me. This is a good time for us to talk… Damien just passed out so he won't be bugging me for my attention.

What the hell was going on with Stevie?

The drama felt never-ending, and though I loved her, I couldn't help her if she wasn't willing to help herself.

CHEY: Hey. Sorry, Ivan's mom was in a car accident, so we got on a flight to Buffalo and then we were at the hospital.

STEVIE: Oh no! Is she okay?

CHEY: She had surgery and they're keeping her sedated to help her rest. We don't know much other than she's stable for now.

STEVIE: I'm glad. Tell him I hope she's okay.

CHEY: I will.

STEVIE: Would you be able to come through the city before you head home? I really need to talk, and it would be easier to do it in person.

CHEY: I don't know. It really depends on what happens with Ivan's mom. There's a lot going on here.

STEVIE: Okay.

I felt bad for Stevie, but Ivan was my priority.

And I planned to tell him exactly how much of a priority he was as soon as we had the conversation we'd just discussed.