Page 5 of It Should Have Been Me

“You seem preoccupied,” JP says, breaking the kiss.

“Sorry. I am.” I unwrap my legs, allowing my feet to find the carpet again. “I’m kinda dreading this twelve-hour flight and just wondering what I’m going to do the whole time without you. And who’s going to hold my hand if we hit that patch of turbulence after take-off.”

“Just close your eyes and pretend I’m there,” he says reassuringly. He lifts my hand in both of his and kisses my knuckles. “Time will go by in a jiffy, and we’ll see each other in a few weeks.”

“I’m going to miss you so much. I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you for the next couple weeks,” I say, and I mean it.

JP and I have been inseparable for well over a year now. He’s such a big part of my life and I hate doing anything without him, especially traveling. The anxiety I’m feeling has nothing to do with him or who he is. This isallme, and I have to stop getting caught up in the re-runs of my past happening in my head, constantly thinking about who...he is not.

3. Scott

“Isee why you movedto Santa Monica, son,” my dad says as we walk through the door that leads to the outdoor dining area of the Bayview Country Club. “It’s great.”

“I love it here,” I reply, taking a seat at our usual table. “The fact that I can go surfing whenever I want is the best part. It’s laid-back enough to feel like a beach town, but still has the right amount of excitement. It’s the perfect blend of everything.”

Peter sits down beside me. Even though our table is under a shade net, the harsh afternoon sun still pierces through the open spaces, glimmering on the side of his face as he eases back in his chair. “The way Scott kept raving about the lifestyle here made me jealous, so I bought a beach house here, too.”

My father squints against the sunlight as he looks over at Peter. “I thought you already owned two beach houses here.”

“I rent those out. The new one I bought is just for me.” He smiles at our waitress as she places breadsticks in the middle of the table. “Can I have a beer?”

“Pete,” I complain, “we’re hitting the gym in an hour. Beer makes you sluggish, man.”

“Chill, Scott. I’m starting the weekend early. Our boy is getting married soon. We only have two more weeks to enjoy his freedom before he ties the knot.”

“He’s not here yet, and we’re not even close to the weekend. It’s only Wednesday.”

He’s unconvinced by my argument. “Can you just relax and enjoy it with me?”

Relaxation is something that’s not going to come easily to me. Not today. Not anytime between now and when Dylan saysI do. I don’t know if I’m tense or apprehensive about what’s going to happen on his wedding day. I’m going to see her again, and I don’t know what to expect. All I know is that I have a shit ton of restless energy that needs to be worked off. I’ve been gyming for more than two to three hours a day since they announced the wedding date.

The proposal was already unexpected. Dylan and Isa dated for a short time in high school. Then shit got hairy, and they split up and went their separate ways. Dylan got back together with his ex-girlfriend, Francesca, and even though I expressly said it was a bad idea, he married her. A future with Isabella was not in the cards, but then all of a sudden, Dylan gets divorced and he’s asking Isa for another chance. After dating again for only amonth, he proposed and asked me to be his best man. I immediately accepted...then immediately regretted it when I realized that I’m going to be standing at an altar opposite the woman I asked to be my wife and yet...it wouldn’t be us getting married.

Getting through that day is going to be torture. It’s going to be torture getting through every day from now until the wedding. The uneasiness building inside me is reaching boiling point and the only thing I can do to release the tension is to kill it at the gym. Every day gets a little worse. I lift heavier. I run faster. I push harder. But nothing seems to be helping. I ignore the tight discomfort in my chest and check the time on my phone.

I must have been very distracted and a barely functioning participant in this conversation because I notice that our meals and drinks are already on the table. I don’t know how much of the discussion I’ve missed, so I just jump right back in with a relatively neutral question.

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