Page 81 of It Should Have Been Me

We pose for a few pictures before Dylan and Isa make their way down the stairs. Tommy makes a show of looping his arm through Pete’s, and I hold out my forearm so Cat can do the same. She’s still lightly dabbing her eyes.

“Emotional day, huh?”

“Yep. And my face seems to be leaking makeup. I’m a hot mess.”

I chuckle. “No, you’re not. You look beautiful.”

We walk out of the church into raining pink confetti and I get pulled in all different directions by Cat’s aunts. A hug from this Aunt Verónica, a kiss from Aunt Letta, and, of course, the overtly flirtatious arm-rub from Aunt Maria.

“You know, I expected it to be you and Catalina up there on that altar first,” she says, looping her arm through mine as we walk to the garden at the back of the church.

“Me too,” I reply, struggling to keep the weighted sadness out of my voice. “Life had other plans, though.”

“Don’t close yourself off. Be open to finding love again.” She eyes me with a naughty smirk. “I’m still single. You can always come home with me tonight.”

I laugh. Many things have changed over time, but Aunt Maria has stayed the same. “I can barely keep up with you on the dance floor. Anything more is just asking for trouble.”

“You’re right. You young studs are only nice to look at. But then at least save a dance for me.”

“I will.”

She winks at me, then saunters off to greet one of Cat’s uncles.

“Was Aunt Maria trying to get you to go home with her again?” Cat asks.

I turn to face her, stuffing my hands into my pockets. It’s second nature to touch her and I want to make sure my hands are occupied, so I don’t draw unnecessary attention to us. “You know how she is.”

“Yep.” She smiles and points to the rest of the bridal party. “My mom says they’re calling us for photos.”

I nod and walk with her to the far end of the garden. The photographer, Sadie, is pretty eccentric. I expected nothing less from Isabella. Sadie came along with props and instructs us to do some of the most ridiculous poses. One with Dylan fake-crying while Isa straps on a ball and chain. One with Pete, Dyl, and I pretending to run away from her while she’s flinging a lasso around him. Even one where Dylan has a caveman club in his hand while she’s tossed over his shoulder. It’s great fun until theseriouspictures need to be taken. The ones with aunts and uncles, parents, siblings, and, of course, those who are technically not part of the family yet.

JP takes his turn being photographed with Cat. I see his hands slip around her waist, and it takes everything in me to not storm toward them and shove him off her. I want to rip his arms off his body and beat him half to death with them. And yet...at the same time, I want to have a beer with him and talk about all the secrets of the universe. He is one of the most intellectually stimulating people I have ever had the pleasure of talking to. I hate him so much because he is so hard to hate. He’s such a nice guy that I actually feel bad for doing what I did to him. A part of me wishes he was a jerk because then I would be able to justify my actions somehow. But no, he’s pleasant and well-mannered and kind and just...a nice guy. I feel like shit because I slept with his girlfriend behind his back, yet I still want to punch him in the face because she’s fuckingmine.

“If you stare any harder, you’re going to turn them to stone,” Pete says from beside me.

I realize then that my hands a tightly clenched into fists at my sides, and I exhale a slow breath to release the tension from my body. “If I kill him, will you help me get rid of the body?”

“Of course. Just as long as I don’t have to do any digging. Manual labor and I aren’t friends.” He taps me on the back. “Just a few hours and then it’s done.”

Those words don’t have the desired effect because once it’s done, it’s done, and then I’ll probably never see her again.

The venue in the Royale Hotel has been set up as if they would be hosting royalty. My eyes generally skip the details in décor, but even I can admit that the luminous pink lighting, the sheer pink satin draped across the ceiling, and the long-stemmed vases filled with pink and white roses are enough for me to stop and take in the extravagance of it.

The table for the bridesmaids and groomsmen is adjacent to the main table where Dylan and Isa are already seated. I’m trying not to torture myself too much and make small talk with Cat’s family as I wait for the formalities to start.

Dylan’s dad kicks off a short prayer and thanks all the guests in attendance before handing the mic over to Dylan’s godfather. This guy goes on for fifteen full minutes about every embarrassing childhood memory from Dylan running naked through the neighbor’s yard to him making mud cakes...then actually eating them. Dyl is hiding his head in shame for most of it, but his uncle has the crowd in stitches and has no intention of letting up. He’s a tough act to follow, so I’m a little nervous when I take the mic from him.

“Good evening, everyone.” I wait for the crowd to settle down before I start with my speech. “They say that best friends make good times better and hard times easier. I wholeheartedly...disagree.Dylan and I have been friends for almost a decade now and if there is one thing I’ve learned from this tenacious little shit is that friendships arehardand true friends will most likely make them harder.” He gives me a knowing smile and I continue. “You see, best friends aren’t there to make you feel better. Best friends are there to tell you when you’re being a jerk and you need to take your head out of your ass. Best friends are there to push you out of your comfort zone and tell you hard truths even when you don’t want to hear them. Best friends will have you running around at two in the morning doing things that are borderline illegal...like stealing a horse.”

Dylan interrupts me then. “We didn’t steal it. We borrowed it.”

I chuckle. “Best friends will have you driving with them to dingy diners on the wrong side of town when you’d rather be lazing by the poolside.” I take a breath, trying not to get too emotional. “Dyl, I can’t even explain how you’ve changed my life. You set me on a path that led to me being the person I am today. You have challenged me. You have humbled me. And none of that was easy. Standing here today, watching you with your beautiful bride...It’s amazing to see, especially because of all the things you both had to work through and overcome to get to this point. I’m so proud of you. Now, before you start getting sentimental, don’t twist anything I’ve said. Peter and I still don’t like you. There are many days when we still question why we’re friends with you.”

“We’re still trying to find someone who’ll take you off our hands,” Peter shouts, and chuckles from the crowd flitter through the air.

“But all jokes aside, we love you, Dyl.” My eyes move to his wife. “Yo, Isa!”

She groans her annoyance, and the smile on my face automatically widens.

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