The Right Side of the Wrong Bed || Bruno Mars

Chapter 29

Faye

Click said the door when I pulled it shut behind me. It was then followed by the lazy dragging of feet against the carpeted floor. Bruno had just sprouted from the stairs in his flannel shirt, dark trousers and sneakers, a briefcase in hand. He went still once his eyes spotted my green ones. A simple hey was what I'd usually greet him with whenever I catch him just appear out of nowhere. But tonight, he wasn't getting an acknowledgement from me or from anyone in the house.

I glanced away and began stepping towards our bedroom. No, I wasn't pretending I didn't see him. I actually wanted him to feel I was ignoring him on purpose just so he would follow me and ask me. Ask me something about like—I don't know. Maybe about how I feel at the moment. What I order for lunch every day. If I ever worry he won't come back anymore after leaving without telling where he was heading. How many minutes does it take me to choose an outfit. How much stronger my feelings for him only grew when his presence wasn't there.

If I were to shoot him a question, I got only one and that was: What happened to "We'll figure this out. You and me, okay?"

I entered the bedroom and quickly busied myself on clearing up the desk. Bruno came in as well and walked over to the bed. An exchange of words wasn't happening between us until he spoke, "You prolly heard the news."

I paused from what I was doing. "Is it true then?" I asked. "That you two are in an affair."

"I don't know if I should call it an affair . . ." his sentence seemed unfinished. He let it be.

"Certainly," I started and proceeded on arranging the stuffs on the desk, never facing him. "It wasn't because of a personal misunderstanding why their marriage is canceled," I said, knowing he knew what I was trying to convey.

"It was her choice. I've nothing to do with it," he defended himself.

"Remember I told you that it's fine if you choose to still chase after her as long as you don't involve the children?" I reminded. "Please, do me a favor and avoid being caught in public. Phoebe almost saw you on TV holding hands with another woman besides her mother—” my voice trailed off into a tiny squeak of grief that I hoped he didn't notice.

"I'm sorry, Faye. I really am. I didn't know we were being watched," was his apology that wasn't enough to heal the bruise that had formed on my heart.

I was done with the desk, I just had to throw the stacks of paper at Br—into a trash bin. "Your little daughter misses you. She has been waiting for you to come home to tell her stories while you're busy giving the whole world to—” I braked my mouth, choking in my own words again.

Apparently the walls weren't tension-proof. They seemed to thicken as the unendurable feeling crashed in from the open door and ate up all the air circulating in the room, suffocating us.

I heard the audible sound of his footsteps nearing me until I felt warm breath like feathers tickling the skin on the back of my neck. My nerves reacted fast at the sudden touch and I whirled around only to come face to face with Bruno Mars. The distance between us was enough to be measured with half of a half ruler.

I didn't have the ability to do anything but freeze into place as he stood there right in front of me, gaze soft but unswerving and not even moving to disconnect from mine. He blinked for the first time when it already seemed to be my forty-third time to. "I'm sorry," he said in a whisper, his voice the soft relaxing sound of wind blowing on my face and carrying with it my worries as I stood on a meadow and watched the sky turn from yellow orange to the bluest of blues. "Tomorrow, I'll skip a day of work and stay at home to take care of Prince. Then in the afternoon, I'll fetch Phoebe and take her to the mall and buy her anything she'd like."