Page 24 of It Should Have Been Me

“Because we’d both be in love with the same woman. How would that work?”

“It wouldn’t.” I take a bite, and it’s as delicious as I remember. “These are so good. Are you busy today?”

“So busy. I have back-to-back meetings and have to be in court at four, so I think I might only get home at seven this evening. Oh! You’re going to be all alone today. Your mom’s working the late shift. Isa and Dylan are going to dance class. Did she tell you?”

“She mentioned it last night. She said they’re learning some choreography for their first dance, and she goes for lessons every Friday because Dylan has two left feet.”

Keith chuckles. “He is exceptionally good at sports, but anything else that requires body movement, he sucks at it.”

I smile to myself. That’s not exactly the truth, according to Isa. She quite enjoys his body movements, but I’m not going to tell Keith that.

“I’m sorry, Cat. Your mom and I always work crazy hours, and Isa has so much to wrap up because their new show starts right after she gets back from her honeymoon. Next week will be better beca—”

“Keith, would you relax?” I place my hand on his to calm him down. “Isa explained all your work schedules to me before I even booked a plane ticket. I came here knowing that I would have to keep myself entertained for most of the day until you guys get home from work. It’s totally fine. I’ll probably get some clay and sculpt a new piece or something. Please don’t stress about me.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, looking a little relieved. “Okay, that makes me feel better. What are your plans for today?”

I’m not sure why I’m nervous about answering this question. I feel the uptick in my heart rate. Maybe it’s guilt, not nervousness. Should I be feeling guilty? I know I’m not doing anything wrong, and I have no intention of rekindling anything with Scott, but I’m still going to be spending the day with my ex-fiancé. Maybe I’m feeling guilty because I could’ve easily avoided this. I had every reason to say no yesterday, and I did, but Scott is so annoyingly persistent that I caved without much of a fight. He knows exactly how to work me. He’s an expert in that department because he has months of experience in breaking down my defenses.

“Um...I’m...I’m going to the beach with...Scott,” I admit apprehensively.

Keith stares at me for a long time, dark brown eyes scrutinizing me intensely. He remains silent for about a minute before he gives a wary nod. “Okay.”

Picking up his empty plate, he stands up and walks to the kitchen. I get up and quickly follow behind him.

“Okay? You give methe lookthen just say okay?”

“What look? I didn’t give a look.”

“You most definitely gave a look. Do you think it’s a bad idea?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, I realize that I’m looking for someone to talk me out of this because I clearly can’t do it myself.

“I think it’s a very bad idea.”

And there. He’s trying to talk me out of it, and what do I say? “We’re just friends, Keith. We’re just going to hang out at the beach today. It’s no big deal.”

“Okay.” He sighs, setting the dirty dishes in the sink. “You’re a grown woman. I can’t tell you what to do. You’re free to choose, but you’re not free from the consequences of that choice.”

“There won’t be any consequences. We’re just going to thebeach.”

He gives a small shrug of acceptance. “Okay. I trust your judgment. Scott’s too. I’m sure both of you are capable of knowing what’s best.”

I walk over to him and give him a tight hug. “Thanks. You’re a great dad, Keith.”

He plants a kiss on the top of my head. “You know, I wouldn’t be a good dad if I didn’t make good dad jokes.”

“Please don’t.” I pull away with a small groan. “Your dad jokes are worse than your lawyer jokes.”

“This one is not just good, it’s relevant to you.”

I relent. “Fine. Tell me.”

“What do a tick and the Eiffel Tower have in common?”

“What?”

“They're both Paris sites.” He allows a second for me to get it. I get it, but I just can’t dignify that with a response. “Get it? Parasites? Paris sites? And then you were...living in Paris. No?”

I deadpan. “That was...awful.”

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