The Right Side of the Wrong Bed || Bruno Mars

Chapter 48

Faye

Everything in our flat had been the way it was since we left last night for the engagement party. Nothing was missing... perhaps, except brightness.

After, I had stripped off of my red dress and put a sweater and trousers on, I closed the bedroom door behind me, walked the gloomy hallway and unclimbed the stairs, eyes puffy and red from crying and nerves all over the place.

It was too quiet downstairs which made me think that nobody was home and everyone was probably searching for me. But as I headed to the living room, I spotted my mother situated in her usual chair by the fireplace and embraced in a shawl. Her eyes were on the red, yellow and orange colors dancing on the coals but her mind seemed to be drifting somewhere beyond the wall of being aware of her surroundings.

"Mum," I called, the promise of forthcoming tears evident in my voice.

My mother neither moved nor made a sound even though I was certain she heard me and knew it was me. She would act like this whenever she was upset. She had all the right to be, like I have all the right to be blamed and guilty.

I didn't know how I could be forgiven by the people I had hurt and got all worried. But I was going to do what I ought to anyway, to say sorry. I took the few steps towards my mother, chasing a front view of her. I dropped my knees to the carpeted floor and burst into tears on her lap. "I'm sorry, mommy. I'm sorry."

It was not until a few seconds had ticked when she spoke. "Your sister told me everything." That was the first thing she said. She didn't even ask where the hell I had been.

That caused me to shoot my head up and look at her. I thought I was going to meet her eyes finally but they still were anchored to the fire. Had Eleanor told her about the most peculiar dream ever? "Why didn't you tell me there was this famous guy who sends you flowers in the studio?" She shifted her eyes to me at last.

It seemed that my sister had told her an edited story about the whole controversy. "Did you even warn him that you have a boyfriend?"

I looked away as usual. In my entire existence, I had never been able to lie to my parents whilst looking at them in the eye. I only hoped they had not discovered this habit of mine. "We were friends, mum," I said, wiping away tears and sniffing. "We've been since I was introduced to him by a friend at one of his gigs. He was very nice." I chewed my lower lip.

I was aware of her eyes squinted at me.

"I... I tried not to... fall. I have been constantly telling him to stop sending me flowers because I was not interested and that I have my boyfriend," I storied out. "But he was just so... stubborn and persistent. I-I can't-I can't-" I pretended to get all tongue-tied and shy. It seemed that my acting skills were better than I knew they were. "There was something about him that... I can't find in Kyle. Something that he gives me that the other guy never can." The words tasted true in my mouth. I met my mother's forgiving eyes.

"Did you love Kyle or did you just feel forced to marry him because of your father and I's friendship to his parents?" she questioned, raising a skeptical brow.

"Oh no, mum! No," I reacted. "I have loved him. Believe me. He was so kind to me and so was his family."

She cut our eye contact, gazing back at the fire and suddenly, her lips were on the brink of smiling. "Your lover boy reminds me of your father when we were young and still too foolish to think that it was that easy to build a family of our own."

My lips slowly lost contact of each other. Never taking my eyes off and attention away from her, I changed into a better position. I sat my bum on the floor and hugged my legs to my chest ready to hear more from her. I remembered those old winter days when Eleanor and I used to gather by the fireplace to hear stories from our mother.