The Right Side of the Wrong Bed || Bruno Mars

Chapter 42

Faye

He remembers.

Doesn't he?

Those eyes when I told him...

No. Maybe, I just imagined it...

What if I didn't-what if he does remember?

He remembers.

He does.

He must-

"Faye Anne!"

In an instant, the voice in my head was gone like a balloon that had burst into disappearance. "Yeah?" I answered to my mother's impatient call.

"We've been talking about the engagement party, my dear. I can't believe you're not even listening," she said, gritting at the word.

"Oh, em, I'm sorry," I stuttered, a little embarrassed.

"You seem distracted. What's wrong?" she questioned, furrowing her thin eyebrows.

"Nothing, mum," I said as I eyed my fingers on my lap.

The party was still on-going as midnight began to further darken the sky. Exhaustion was starting to sing me to sleep. However, my mind remained wide awake like a sleepless city lit up by thoughts and thoughts of him.

Circled around a table were my family, my fiancé and her sister, and I. Soon, we were to go home. I felt anxious knowing that leaving without having to speak to him again would probably drive me mad.

"Is everything alright?" whispered Kyle, lowering his head to align his eyes with mine.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Nothing's wrong." I sounded a bit defensive but he didn't seem to notice.

"Care for a little dance?" he said as he held out a hand.

A smile can't help but form on my face. Without a word, I gladly took my fiancé's hand and let him lead the way. We joined the other guests on the dance floor and danced to the slow music.

I locked my eyes on his, the color of the sky when it was undisturbed. Suddenly, his eyebrows came together.

"What?" I asked.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?" His lips were at the edge of smiling.

"Oh, Kyle. Please," I rolled my eyes, suppressing a smile. "Stop flattering me."

"My mother told me that if I fall in love with somebody's eyes, I'd be in love with that person for the rest of my life because the eyes don't age," he storied out. "They look the same over the years."

"Yeah?" I beamed.

"Yeah," he smiled back, wider.

I rested my chin on his shoulder, and he pulled me closer. I liked where I was, in his arms. I should be contented about it if only something else was not haunting my thoughts.

Another pair of eyes captured my attention. They reminded me of delightful things like coffee and chocolate cake. Bruno was in a corner, with a glass of champagne in hand, competing at a staring contest with me. My heartbeat sped up, breaking its record when I had my first kiss with Kyle. This time, the vacancy in his eyes was being occupied by something I can't quite decipher-Sadness? Jealousy? Longing? Whatever it was, it pained him, it pained me. It was the hot slash of a sharp edge of a paper on my heart.

Someone started tapping his spoon against his wine glass producing a loud clinking sound that drew everyone's attention. Mr. Walker was standing on his spot at the top banisters in the middle of the staircases. The music was cut as well as our dancing. I withdrew from Kyle and looked up at Mr. Walker. This was the part of the night when he acknowledged the people who made his show a success, thanked everyone for coming and hoped they'd come back for the next shows.