Page 17 of It Should Have Been Me

“Can’t someone else take over from you?”

“No! Scott, this project is important to me. I started it. I want to finish it.”

“But you finished it! This is going back to a piece you did three months ago because they just decided they want more detail added on. There are two other artists working with you. One of them can do it for you.”

“I already told them I would do it.”

“And I don’t understand why you would agree to that, knowing it’s going to add another month to this project! You didn’t even speak to me about it first.”

“So, now I have to run all my decisions past you first?”

“When it impacts me, yes!”

She presses her fingers against her forehead. “Scott, I don’t want to fight about this again.”

“I think it would be a bigger problem if we stopped fighting about this. The last time I saw you was when you flew home for your mother’s wedding. That was almost four months ago! And before that...I can’t even remember when I saw you last. Am I supposed to be okay with that?”

“No...I’m not okay with it either, which is why I keep asking you to come here. Please, Scott. We can do this together, see the world together, just live on our own terms.”

“And where do my dreams fit into all this? I didn’t use the only money I had left to put myself through college just to be an extension of you, Catalina. I have a life, too. Any place you go to, you only stay there for a few months. How am I supposed to do what I love if we’re moving around all the time?” I lean closer to the screen because that’s the closest I can get to her. “You can find lucrative projects here. We can find a way to make this work. Please, just come home.”

“I don’t...I don’t want to come home...not yet.”

That one sentence shatters me into a million pieces. “What?”

“I don’t want that kind of life.” Tears start rolling down her cheek. “I don’t want society’s norm anymore...where every day is just another Groundhog Day of doing the same thing. This project is changing everything for me, Scott. I’ve been given an opportunity that most people only dream of. I want to live life to the fullest, experience everything it has to offer. I can’t pass this up. If I come home now, I’ll sour my relationship with this client, and I don’t want that because I’m starting to grow such a great network here. I won’t get this kind of momentum going again. I’m going to get stuck in Pasadena just going about a routine, doing the same boring, mundane things every day.”

I rub a hard hand over my jaw. “Is that how you see our lives together? Boring and mundane?”

“No.” She shuts her eyes and shakes her head. “That’s not what I’m saying, Scott. You know I love you with my whole heart. I just want more than what Pasadena has to offer. Just give me a little more time. Once this project is done, I’ll come home, but at least I’ll have this client who’s going to open so many doors for me, and it’ll be easier to build a career from there.”

“I’ve been listening to this for months. There’s always going to be another project, another delay, another client...and you’ll keep choosing it over me because the simple fact is...you don’t want this anymore. When you say you don’t want to come home and you want more than Pasadena, I gotta listen to what you’re really saying.” I’m silent for a good minute or so, considering all viable options, and there are none. I exhale a slow breath, trying to keep my composure. My throat is tight, and I can barely swallow, barely say the words that are so hard for me to say. “Cat, I love you...more than anything...but this, uh...” I drop my head, my voice becoming shaky and unsteady. “This is going to be my last call with you.”

“No! Scott, c’mon, please...please! Why can’t you come here and be with me?”

I meet her eyes on the screen, and tears are streaming down her cheeks now. “Baby, I gave up everything to be with you...but I can’t...I can’t give this up, too.”

I didn’t bother listening to any more excuses. I ended the call, and that was the last time I spoke to her until yesterday. She tried calling me back...every dayfor three months or so, sometimes four or five times a day. I didn’t answer. She texted me day and night. I didn’t respond. It took everything in me to ignore her each time. There were days I considered blocking her number just, so I didn’t have to deal with the desperate urge to hear her voice again, but I couldn’t bring myself to cut all lines of communication, especially since it took memonthsto get her number.

Instead, I constantly reminded myself that we’d reached an impasse, the point where we needed to stop fighting. And if she really wanted to speak to me, if she wanted to work it out, she could’ve hopped on a plane and come home to discuss it with me in person. That didn’t happen, either. It’s painful to acknowledge, but we just didn’t want the same things anymore. She wanted to escape the routine, the predictability, and yet I found so much fulfillment in doing the same thing every day.

I love my students – the college kids, and the tenth graders that give me hell. I shape lives every day. I inspire these kids to be better, motivate them until they understand their self-worth and what they’re truly capable of. I’m fucking great at my boring, mundane job because I absolutely love it.

My ringing phone yanks me out of my thoughts. I stop the treadmill, grabbing a towel to dab away the sweat from my face before I answer.

“Hey, Keith,” I say, huffing out hard breaths.

“Hi, Scott. Sorry to spring this on you at the last minute, but I need to ask you for a favor.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Would you be able to pick Catalina up from the boutique and take her home? I wouldn’t ask unless it was the last resort. My client shifted our meeting, and I can’t get out of it. They should be done in an hour or so. I called Peter, but he’s at his beach house, so?”

I sneer my irritation. “Can you guys stop trying to tiptoe around me? I can cope with being around my ex for a few minutes, for fuck’s sake.”

“Sorry, Scott.” The sincerity in his voice makes me feel a little bad for snapping. “It’s just we all know that the situation must be awkward for you...and Cat, and we’re trying not to make it worse.”

“I’m completely capable of dealing with awkward. Send me the address. I’m gonna shower real quick and then I’ll pick her up.”

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