The Right Side of the Wrong Bed || Bruno Mars

Chapter 15

Bruno

"Faye," I called out as I stood at the bottom of the stairs hoping she would hear me from the bedroom. "Aren't you hungry for dinner yet? I bought pizza." Seconds later, still she had not answered which caused me to begin worrying. Faye hadn't spoken to me since we got home from Phoebe's school and I wondered why. She had decided to lock herself up in the bedroom and I did not know how much longer she wished to stay there. Phoebe and I had already finished watching Rio 2 and eating pizza, still she hadn't come down yet. I've not done anything wrong to her, have I? I didn't see anything wrong with kissing someone on the cheek? Was she mad at me for doing just that?

The door bell rang the instant I was about to climb up the stairs to check on Faye. I hurried out the living area, venturing for the door. The television was on; Prince was on his walker and Phoebe on the couch watching some cartoons. Before she could leap off the couch and seize for the door, I held her still, preventing her from doing so. "No, sweetheart. You can't open the door," I said with a bit of authority in my voice. I withdrew my grip on her and continued on reaching for the door. "It could be anyone. It could be a bad guy, an intruder or—”

"Where's Faye?" I was shoved aside after opening the door. Someone just abruptly barged in and walked farther into the house.

"See? I told you," I pointed out to my daughter who was sitting curiously taking in the sudden scene. "Wait. Debbie?" I realized. "What are you doing here?"

It was Debbie carrying a white paper bag, and dressed in a black strapless fitted dress that bared her shoulders and neck—where a sort of black amulet rested there—and hung above her knees. Her dark brown wavy hair was purposely fleeing out from a bun giving her that 'I look wasted but I don't care because I'm still hot' look. "Where's Faye?" she asked, a little breathless, whipping her head around.

"She's upstairs in the bedroom. She's been there since we got home and she wouldn't come down," I said closing the door behind me.

"Fuck that crazy ass bitch for this," she muttered.

"What? Who are you talking about?" I asked, baffled.

She looked at me with shocked eyes that seemed to want to eat me alive. "You mean you don't know what happened to your dearest wife?"

"She's not telling me anything. I don't know what's the matter with her."

"Well, Amanda just fucking fired her. That's thanks to your ex-girlfriend superstar slash cuckoo-headed bitch," she snarled at my face as if I was the one to blame.

Dumbfounded, I batted my eyelids a multiple times. "Gabrielle? I don't understand. Why are you blaming her? What did she possibly do?"

"Faye accidentally splash water on her face. She apologized to her but Gabrielle just practically splash water on her face too on purpose and started shouting at her like crazy. What the fuck, right? She's such a diva!" she roared. "Now she got Amanda to fire Faye. What a bitch!"

I was not sure whether to be hurt or furious after hearing Debbie say. Mostly, I was confused. I've always known Gabrielle to be a sweet and humble girl. She would never do such a thing. But it was stupid not to believe Debbie. She was Faye's friend, and she wouldn't be this upset if it weren't true. Anger, disappointment and bafflement all fought to rule over me.

"Debbie?" a voice, so familiar, came in from the small foyer. It was Faye—in one of those cool shirts she had in her closet again and a pair of denim shorts that I've never seen her wear before—appearing from the shadows. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "Could you at least stop swearing? Phoebe can hear—”