𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈 everyone knows who she is. Worldwide model, covered in many vogue magazines, walked catwalks, and runaway. But people don't know what happens behind the curtains. Despite the many scandals that have plagued her reputation...
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My mother stood frozen, completely frozen as the weight of my words sank in. I watched her, unsure of how long it had been—seconds? Minutes? She just stared at me, unblinking, as if time itself had stopped, her mind struggling to process the truth I had just laid bare. The truth that had been happening right under her roof for three years without her knowledge.
And then, like a dam breaking, she crumbled.
She fell to her knees, a guttural, pained scream tearing from her throat as she desperately reached out to pull me into her arms. The sight was jarring. I had always seen my mother as a beacon of strength, the person who had it all together, her life perfectly in place. But right now, as she clung to me, her body trembling with sobs, she looked like a shattered version of herself. Messy. Broken.
"Oh, my baby," she whispered, her voice cracking as she kissed my face between tears, her apologies spilling out in waves. "I'm so sorry... so, so sorry."
I closed my eyes, letting her hold me, but the anger inside me didn't dissipate. Her words didn't change anything.
"I don't want your apology, Mom," I said quietly, pulling back just enough to meet her tear-filled eyes. "I'm telling you this so you can prepare yourself for what's coming."
Her face fell even further, if that were possible. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, she just stared at me, as if searching for some way to make everything right again. But it was too late for that. The damage was done. And now, the storm was coming.
But it was like my words fell on deaf ears. She clung to me tighter, her arms wrapped around me like if she let go, she'd lose me forever. Her sobs continued, choking out more apologies, each one more desperate than the last.
"I'm so sorry, Lucas. I didn't know... I should've seen it... I should've protected you," she whispered, her voice breaking with every word.
But none of it mattered now. Her apologies, her regret—it didn't undo what had been done. She held on like she was trying to piece me back together, but I wasn't the one who was falling apart. Not anymore.
"Mom, listen to me," I said, but she just kept murmuring her apologies, rocking back and forth as if that would make it all better. Her face was buried in my shoulder, her tears soaking through my shirt.
"I don't need your apologies mom," I repeated, but my voice felt small compared to the torrent of emotions flooding out of her. She wasn't ready to hear me, not yet. So I let her cling to me, her world crumbling around her, knowing that soon she'd have no choice but to face the reality I was preparing her for.
The truth was out now, and there was no turning back.
"I need you to be strong for me, Mom," I said, my voice steady, trying to break through her sobs. "I need you to help me handle this. For me. For you. For Sofia."
