Page 14 of It Should Have Been Me

Isabella groans. “Why? Hedoesn’tlive here! When is she going to get that?”

“Everyone in this neighborhood likes me more than you. When are you going to getthat?” Scott retorts before digging into his food. “Oh, Mrs. H, I gotta show you something.” He sets his fork down, then takes out his phone and scrolls through his pictures. “Look at this little guy.”

“Awww,tan lindo,” mom coos, taking the phone from him to get a better look. “He is just the cutest. Is this the one you’ve decided to adopt?”

“Yep.” Scott takes his phone back. “He still has to get his shots, so he can’t leave his mom just yet. They told me I can only take him home in two weeks. I’m going to see him tomorrow, though.”

“I wanna see.” Isa rushes around the island to also get a look at the tiny Yorkshire terrier on his screen. His face is mostly brown, but he has a black patch on one eye. “He’s adorable! What are you going to name him?”

“I was thinking about Tucker, but Peter says I should name him Rocky because of the black eye.”

Dylan returns to the kitchen and adds his two cents. “Pete’s a little overzealous when it comes to Rocky, but I have to say I agree with him on this one.”

Isabella nods. “I like Rocky, too.”

“Rocky, it is, then.”

Scott doesn’t show me the puppy. It’s another sign of him putting down roots and he’s obviously avoiding my opinion on the matter.

“Well, hello, family.”

The unexpected voice startles me, and I swivel around on the stool to see Keith standing behind me.

My stepdad pulls me into a big bear hug and kisses the top of my head. “Catalina, it’s so nice to have you home.”

Again, the word jabs me in the throat as I hug him tight. He shakes Dylan’s hand, slaps Scott on the back as a greeting, then walks around the island to kiss my mother. He makes her so happy. Her eyes still light up when she’s around him. There was a time when I thought she would never get over my father’s death, but Keith came in and was like a beacon of healing for her.

Keith's features are somehow chiseled without being too rugged. He looks like an older version of Boris Kodjoe, and he is what anyone would describe as tall, dark, and handsome. Dark skin, dark hair, dark eyes. He looks so intense and serious until he smiles. He is probably the most light-hearted person I have ever met with the added traits of being kind, caring, and weirdly funny. Admittedly, it took a while for Isa and I to understand his sense of humor.

“Did you kill anyone today, Isa?” Keith asks after kissing her on the head as well.

She giggles. “Not today, dad, but I came close.Reallyclose.”

A sharp jolt in my chest is a sign that my body registered that sentence quicker than my brain did. She just called himdad. I’ve heard her refer to him that way many times before, but this is the first time I’ve witnessed it in person, and it makes me realize how much I’ve missed. Scott’s transition from calling my mother Mrs. D to Mrs. H. Isa’s transition from Keith to dad. My throat squeezes so tight I can barely get air through. These are small things, petty things, but when added to this gaping hole of everything I’ve missed out on, it’s just becoming too emotionally overwhelming.

I love Keith. I really do and we’ve...talked. He made every effort to get to know Isa and I better, but when I left, our relationship halted while his bond with Isa grew stronger. Why does that hurt so much?

I’m not jealous or angry. In fact, I love that their bond is so deep. She became so reckless after my dad died, barreling down a path of self-destruction, and I didn’t think she would ever get close to another man again. And now she’s getting married and calling Keith dad. It hurts to know I wasn’t part of the process of her getting to this point.

I wasn’t expecting time to stand still while I was away, but it seems like everyone has grown together and moved on...without me. This ismyfamily and yet somehow, I feel excluded, like I’m an outsider.

I take a few breaths as I try to pull myself together. Everyone is too distracted to notice anything, and for a moment, I’m glad that none of them see my despondency. That is...until Scott’s hand lands on mine, gently squeezing my fingers, and I instantly know that he’s picked up on the dip in my mood.

“You okay?” he whispers, so only I can hear.

I hate when he does this because it’s the quality that makes him so...Scott. Maybe it’s a by-product of how our relationship started out, but he always puts my feelings first, regardless of what he might be going through. I know he’s still upset about what happened at his apartment earlier, but he’ll put it aside to prioritize me.

I slowly shake my head, and after another squeeze, he releases my hand, and his attention goes back to his phone. My phone dings a few seconds later and when I check it, there’s a meme from him:Don’t be sad because sad backward is das...and das not good.

Aw, man. I forgot about the memes. He used to drive me nuts with them. Seeing his name on my phone again does strange things to me. I’ve wanted to see his name light up my screen for so long that it feels like some abstract wish that just got fulfilled...a little too late. Somehow, it keeps me trapped in this nostalgic trance. I look up at him and force a smile. “Is that the best you got?”

“Don’t play, girl. Because if I—”

There’s a naughty warning in his tone. He’ll flood my messenger with this crap. “Stand down, Soldier. I surrender and accept defeat gracefully.”

I almost cringe once that sentence is out. Calling himSoldieronly reinforces the fact that my mind is stuck in the past and that is a dangerous place to be.

“Oh, and we’re going for a dress fitting tomorrow at ten,” Isa says, pulling us out of our small bubble and back to the conversation. “I’ll take you there, but I have to get back to work right after, so Dylan will bring you back home.”

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