2. Oh, Mom!

"I'm fine," I managed to say as the blaring sound of my phone made my pulse quicken, drawing my attention away from the man and back to my screen.

My mom was calling, and I answered without a second thought. "Hello, Mom," I said, trying to act like nothing had happened.

"Veronica, where are you?" Her voice was loud and demanding. "I know you're not at Emma's place because I just came from there. So where are you?"

"Um, I'm on my way home right now," I said, feeling uncomfortable. The fact that she was looking for me made me suspect she might have seen the video. My guilty conscience twisted inside me, reminding me of the lie I’d told her last night about going to a late-night book club—something I was absolutely not doing.

I braced myself for her to mention the video, but she didn’t. Instead, she just said, "Okay," and ended the call. Trying to calm my nerves, I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes, attempting to steady my breathing.

The car pulled up in front of my house, a small duplex nestled between much larger ones. The street was quiet, with only a few neighbors outside. I lowered my gaze, hoping to avoid any eye contact that might lead to awkward conversations—especially considering that my "marriage scandal" was plastered all over the internet.

But of course, the moment I dreaded came anyway. "Mrs. Carlos, should I wait until you're ready to go back to the mansion?" one of the men called out to me.

Immediately, the few neighbors who were minding their own business turned their attention toward me, trying to piece together what was happening.

"Oh, I’ll be fine. You can go," I replied hastily before rushing into the apartment and shutting the door behind me. I leaned against it, trying to catch my breath. After a moment, I decided to head to my room to change into something more comfortable.

"Veronica," a familiar voice called out, and I froze. I turned to see my mother sitting on the couch, her phone in hand. "What’s this?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she held up her phone, the screen displaying that dreaded video.

I was shocked, but what could I say? My mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation, but nothing seemed adequate.

"Mom, I—" I started, but she cut me off.

"Do you have any idea what this looks like? The entire neighborhood is probably talking about it by now!" Her voice was firm, but there was an undercurrent of concern that made my stomach twist even more.

I swallowed hard, feeling a wave of shame wash over me. "It’s not what it looks like," I said weakly, though even to my ears, it sounded like a flimsy excuse.

"Not what it looks like? Veronica, you’re in a video, drunk, and apparently getting engaged to some stranger in a club!" My mother stood up, pacing the room as she spoke. "How could you let this happen?"

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back. "I didn’t know, Mom. I didn’t even realize what was happening until this morning. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen."

"You lied to me, Veronica and I'm angry at you for that." She sighed heavily, sitting back down and rubbing her temples. "You need to fix this, Veronica. This... this isn’t just going to blow over. The media, people online—they’re going to run with this."

I nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. "I'm sorry, Mom. I know. I’ll fix it. I’ll... I'll figure something out."

She softened slightly, her tone less harsh. "You’re going to have to face the consequences, Veronica. But whatever happens, we’ll get through it. Just... please, be more careful."

I nodded again, not trusting myself to speak. I felt a deep sense of guilt, not just for what had happened, but for disappointing her.

"Get cleaned up," she said, her voice gentler now. "We’ll figure out what to do next."

I never thought my mom would be so understanding, but today things turned out differently. Ever since I moved to Canada to stay with her because of her health issues, she had been more supportive than I expected.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Please don't let this bother you," I said before turning to head upstairs. The moment I got to my room, I fell face-first into my pillow and groaned. The image of waking up naked next to Ivan almost made me lose my mind.

"Did we have sex?" I asked myself. "Oh, of course we did, foolish girl. I mean, you can’t just wake up in a man’s bed naked and think nothing happened. You slept with your celebrity crush, and to top it off, you even got engaged to him."

I could almost hear Emma, Tonia, or Mara pulling my hair with excitement if they were here. I rolled my eyes—I have had enough drama for one day. I switched off my phone and tossed it into the dirty laundry hamper, and walked over to my closet to grab some fresh clothes.

As I walked down the stairs, I could hear different voices coming from the living room. Oh no, don’t tell me the internet scandal has come right to my apartment. I mumbled to myself, taking the stairs one step at a time so I could catch what they were discussing.

"It would skyrocket my son’s reputation. The internet is already buzzing about it," a woman said.

"Speaking of millions of views and all of Canada talking about it, we just made fifty million, and with the way things are going, it’s about to get even higher," a completely different voice chimed in.

I reached the last step and could now see my mom sitting in the single-seater couch, her fingers intertwined, looking as if she was being suffocated by the situation.

My mother was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder when I was young. It started after we lost Chloe, my elder sister, in a car accident. After that, my mother suffered abuse from my father, who blamed her for sending Chloe away that night. His constant abuse drove her to want to leave Canada for good.

After my father divorced her, leaving a permanent bruise on her heart, my mom had been struggling with her illness. I had to leave Ohio and come to Canada to be with her after an urgent call. She had been doing okay, especially with me by her side, but this—this incident had triggered something I thought was gone for good.

She grabbed the armrest of the chair, and I could tell she was struggling to breathe steadily.

"All I’m asking is for your daughter to move into our mansion and let the whole marriage facade continue," the woman, whom I assumed was Ivan’s mother, said.

I immediately stormed into the living room. Taking my mother’s hand, I knelt beside her, making eye contact. "It’s going to be alright, Mom. Breathe, I’m here. I’m not leaving," I said, trying to calm her.