The Right Side of the Wrong Bed || Bruno Mars

Chapter 31

Bruno

Thursday morning in California. The sky was a blissful vast expanse of light blue accompanied by thin strokes of white clouds and the sun a giant golden coin pinned there.

But the vibe inside the car didn't seem to match that pleasant atmosphere of the morning. All those gray clouds absent in the sky went and joined Phoebe and I in there. Disrupting the silence were only the faint hum of the engine and the sound of traffic.

Driving, I gazed at the rearview mirror and saw Phoebe silently sitting at the backseat, watching the hectic world outside her window. Since the incident last night, she hadn't talked to me. I was afraid she had grown cold to me now.

"Sweetheart," I called. Her big brown eyes were on me as I checked her once again in the mirror. Then I shifted my gaze back on the road. "Are you okay? You're too quiet back there."

"I'm fine, daddy," she simply answered. When I glanced again, she was back to staring out the window looking more down than before.

Only fifteen minutes left and her class will be starting by the time we reached her school. I stopped the car at the main gate. I'd crane my head to the backseat to bid her goodbye and kiss the top of her head before she leaves. But at the moment, all I could do was to heave a sigh.

I heard the sound of the seatbelt being unbuckled. My eyes shot to the rearview mirror. Phoebe had unfastened her seatbelt and was now slinging her small bag pack on her shoulders. "Buh-bye, daddy," she bid in a voice that wasn't enough to prove that nothing was wrong.

Immediately, I jumped out of the car and hurried to open her door. After helping her get out, I knelt down to level my eyes with hers. "Phoebe, sweetheart," I started, holding her tiny hands. "I know you're upset about last night. I'm really sorry. It's daddy's fault."

"I'm not mad at you, daddy. I'm sorry too. I've been a bad girl," she pouted.

"Oh no, honey. You're not a bad girl. You make mistakes but that doesn't mean you're bad already," was my protest. Bad was such a strong and unpleasant word for me. It was inappropriate to use to describe an innocent little girl like her, I thought. "You may have done something wrong but the important thing is you learn from it and you try to do better next time. Alright, baby girl?"

She nodded wearing a smile that didn't persuade me into believing she was fine.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Tell daddy," I asked worriedly.

"Are you and mommy mad at each other?" she stunned me with. My lips voluntarily parted without my command.

"No, no," I shook my head eagerly. "What made you think that?"

"I heard you shouting at each other last night. Were you fighting?"

My shoulders sagged. "Yes, we were, honey," I didn't lie. "You see, it's normal for couples like us to fight. Sometimes, couples fight but that doesn't mean they don't love each other anymore."

"Do you love mommy?" Another question that made my heart jerk.

"Of course, I love the woman who gave me you."

"How much?"

Hesitation.

"If we were riding a motorcycle and I'm the one driving... and the brake broke, I won't let her know. Instead, I'll ask her to hold on tighter and wear my helmet. And in the remaining few seconds of my life before we crash onto something, I'll tell her how much I love her."

A huge grin at last shaped across her face.

"I love you and mommy, okay? Remember that."

She nodded and we pulled each other into an embrace. I kissed the top of her head.