Flash Marriage: A Night To Remember

One damn mistake, they said, could change your life, and mine had turned everything upside down.

The chill in the room made my skin prickle as I groaned and reached for the duvet to cover myself. My hand, however, landed on a warm body. I jolted upright, immediately noticing my clothes scattered on the floor and realizing I was completely naked. I pulled the duvet around me and my eyes fell on a man sleeping peacefully on the bed.

"What the hell?" I whispered, shock and confusion mixing in my voice. "Shit, shit." The moment I muttered the words, my head pounded, and fragments of the previous night flooded back. I remembered following my friends-Emma, Tonia, and Mara to a nightclub for our usual ladies' night. I recalled taking shots and drinking heavily, but I had no memory of ending up in a stranger's bed.

I frantically searched the room for my cell phone, finally finding it under the bed. I unlocked it, only to be met with a barrage of messages and notifications. They all seemed to suggest that I was engaged to Ivan Carlos.

Ivan Carlos. The name was absurd. He was a top celebrity in Canada, a public figure no one had actually seen up close, except those in his inner circle. Why would I be associated with him?

Emma's name appeared on the screen, and I dialed it, my anxiety rising as I waited for her to answer.

"Vera, where are you?" Emma's voice was laced with concern. "Your mom's been calling me, and all I could tell her was that you were with me."

I rubbed my forehead, trying to soothe the throbbing pain. "How should I know? I woke up in a stranger's bed."

There was a pause, and then Emma's voice came back, hesitant. "Vera, I'm so sorry. I still can't believe it either."

"What... what are you talking about?" My voice trembled as I awaited her explanation, but before she could elaborate, someone snatched the phone from my hand. I turned to find myself face-to-face with a shirtless Ivan Carlos.

"Your call is disturbing my early morning sleep," he grumbled, tossing the phone onto the bed and heading towards the bathroom.

I stood there, frozen in disbelief. I had not only slept in Ivan Carlos's bed but was now confronting him directly. As reality set in, the possibility that something had happened between us became more apparent.

I scrambled to gather my clothes from the floor, dressing quickly and grabbing my phone. Without looking back, I hurried out the door.

Outside, I took a deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves as I navigated down a lavishly decorated spiral staircase. The gold and black decor made it look like something straight out of a real estate showcase.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs and neared the exit, a voice stopped me. "Mrs Carlos, where are you going so early in the morning?" A woman in a white and black uniform approached me, and I looked around, expecting to see someone else she might be referring to. But it turned out she was talking to me.

"No, my name is Veronica," I corrected her sharply.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but since you're engaged to my boss, I'll have to address you as Mrs. Carlos," she said, her tone firm but respectful.

I was tempted to ask her which engagement she was talking about, but I didn't have time. I needed to get out of there and head home before my mom started freaking out.

My phone kept vibrating with messages piling up as I made my way to the huge black gate. As I approached it, two men appeared out of nowhere and hurried to meet me.

"Mrs. Carlos, your ride is here. Please follow us," one of them said politely.

"My ride? You've got to be kidding," I scoffed. "Is this some sort of joke?"

The man maintained a smirk. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Carlos, if this is causing any inconvenience."

"Why is everyone acting so strange? There must be a mistake. I'm not who you think I am. I'm not married to your boss," I said, sighing in frustration.

"I understand, Mrs. Carlos, but I'm afraid I can't let you leave alone. You're now a public figure, and those fans of your husband might not be too kind."

"Ugh, what is this?" I groaned, resting my hand on my forehead. He was right-something was off. My phone had been buzzing non-stop since I woke up, and the whole situation was making my stomach churn. Not knowing what was going on didn't help either.

With a sigh, I raised my hand, then dropped it by my side. "Alright, I need to get out of here anyway. Let's go."

The man nodded, and both of them took their positions beside me. When we reached the car, one of them moved ahead to open the door, and I slid inside, immediately pulling out my phone to check all the messages I'd been receiving.

11,089 messages in a split second. My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I blinked furiously, trying to convince myself this was some kind of bizarre dream.

Ivan Carlos-my ultimate celebrity crush. Anyone who knew me would say we were like twins from different mothers. Ivan was born on the same day as me; I knew this because I'd always been online, digging into his history.

"How did this happen?" I muttered, but the answer was staring right back at me from my phone screen.

A video of me dancing with a man in a club, my friends jeering nearby as they filled their cups with liquor. The way he grabbed my hips like he owned me made my stomach twist, and the fact that I was playing along only made it worse.

In the background, a guy-probably the one who filmed the video-was obnoxiously loud. "Yo yo yo," he kept shouting.

And God, the next part of the video made me wish I could just disappear on the spot, or maybe sink into the seat. But this was reality, and things like that don't happen.

The man, who I assumed was Ivan Carlos, though partially hidden under a cap, suddenly dropped to one knee in front of me, his eyes locking with mine. I was like a puppy, eagerly wagging my tail at the sight of a fresh meal.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, pulling out a tiny box with a glittering diamond ring that caught the club's lights.

"No, no, no," I muttered, staring at my phone screen, but my words were the exact opposite of what I had said in the video.

"Yes, stranger, I'll marry you," my intoxicated self slurred, and a cold chill ran down my spine. My eyes darted to my hand, and there it was-the same glittering diamond ring from the video on my index finger.

How had I not noticed it until now?

"Ma'am, are you alright?" The man in the passenger seat turned to look at me, and I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment, realizing he might have seen the video.

At that moment, it felt like the whole world had seen it.

Shit.

"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.

I then turned to Ivan's mother, my eyes narrowing. "I'm sorry, but I can't agree to this," I said firmly, gripping my mother's hand tighter. "This whole situation is a mistake. I was intoxicated, and I agreed to marry your son. You can tell the press that. I'm not going to make it worse by pretending to be something I'm not."

The other young lady almost my age, who was dressed in a brown and cream color shirt, looked down at the iPad she was holding and raised it at me. "With this success, this is bringing, I'm not sure telling the press such is a good idea."

Ivan's mother raised an eyebrow, her expression calm and composed. "I understand this is overwhelming, Veronica," she said, her voice smooth but insistent. "But think about the opportunities this could bring. Not just for Ivan, but for you too."

I shook my head, my resolve hardening. "I don't care about the opportunities. I care about my mother and my sanity. I'm not moving into your mansion and continuing this lie."

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Ivan's mother exchanged a glance with the man standing beside her-probably one of Ivan's representatives-before letting out a soft sigh. "Very well," she said, disappointment lacing her words. "But remember, this opportunity won't last forever."

With that, she signaled the lady and the man and stood up to leave. Just before stepping out, Ivan's mother cast a final glance at my mother, who was still trying to catch her breath. "I do hope you reconsider," she added before they walked out of the apartment.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I turned to my mom, who was clutching my hand tightly, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Mom, it's going to be okay," I said softly, trying to keep my voice steady. "We'll figure this out together, I promise."

But to my surprise, my mother shook her head, her voice trembling. "No, Veronica. You have to do it."

I blinked, taken aback. "What? Mom, no, I can't-"

"You have to," she interrupted, her tone more desperate now. "Please, I'm begging you. If this will help... If it means you can be taken care of, I need you to do it. For me."

My heart sank as I looked at her. I had always been her rock, the one holding everything together when the world felt like it was falling apart. And now, seeing her so broken, so afraid, I felt my resolve crumbling.

"Mom, I don't want to live a lie," I whispered, trying to make her understand.

Her grip on my hand tightened even more. "Sometimes, we have to do things we don't want to, to protect the people we love," she said, her voice breaking. "If this is what it takes to keep you safe, to keep us both safe... then please, do it."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to keep my composure. I didn't want to be forced into something I didn't want, but seeing the fear and desperation in my mother's eyes, I couldn't bring myself to say no.

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, and when I opened them again, I nodded slowly. "Alright, Mom," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I'll do it. But only for you."

She collapsed into my arms, sobbing quietly, and I held her tightly, wondering how I was going to survive the chaos that was about to consume my life.

Hours passed, and I sat in silence beside my mother, replaying the day's events over and over in my mind. The weight of what I had just agreed to press down on me left me feeling numb and terrified.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone. I knew what I had to do, but that didn't make it any easier. Taking a deep breath, I picked up the phone and dialed the number Ivan's mother had left. It rang only once before she answered as if she had been expecting the call.

"I've changed my mind," I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. "I'll move into the mansion and keep up the facade. But I have conditions."

"Of course," Ivan's mother replied smoothly, not a trace of surprise in her voice. "We can discuss the details tomorrow. I'll send a car to pick you up."

I nodded to myself, my heart heavy. "Fine. I'll be ready."

As I hung up the phone, a hollow ache spread through my chest. I was stepping into a world I didn't understand, bound by an agreement I didn't want. But for my mother's sake, I would do it.

*****

As soon as I opened the door, a woman in the crowd thrust a microphone toward me. "Mrs. Carlos, can you please tell us how your secret relationship with Mr. Carlos turned into an engagement?"

The words caught in my throat as I stared at the crowd gathered outside. Paparazzi, curious onlookers, and a group of young girls-who I assumed were Ivan Carlos's fans-stared back at me. The girls, in particular, seemed to be shooting daggers my way, their expressions a mix of envy and hostility.

My mother, who had insisted on accompanying me to the Carlos mansion, stood beside me, just as stunned as I was.

"Please, tell us!" the reporter pressed, cameras flashing relentlessly in my face. "How come we haven't heard about you until now? Is it true that you and Mr. Carlos were seen together at the club that night?"

The flood of questions and the barrage of camera flashes overwhelmed me. My thoughts swirled in confusion, and I felt my chest tighten with anxiety. Without a word, my mother grabbed my arm and pulled me back inside the apartment, slamming the door shut behind us.

Inside, the sudden silence was jarring. I leaned against the door, trying to steady my breathing as my mother looked at me, her eyes wide with concern.