I gave a tight smile and said, “Happy birthday,” trying not to let the insult sink in.
Nick rubbed my back gently and whispered, “Just breathe.”
Dani was already there, arranging flowers on the sideboard. She mouthed, “Brace yourself” as I passed.
That’s when I noticed the dining table.
Every single place setting had a printed name card, like, fancy cursive font on thick paper. It felt more like a wedding reception than a casual birthday dinner with your adult children.
I walked around the table, curious, and then found my seat across the table from Nick.
I was seated next to Uncle Carl, a sweet but long-winded man who once explained his entire spine surgery during Thanksgiving while I was trying to cut turkey.
I leaned toward Nick and asked, “Seriously?”
He gave me a sheepish look and mumbled, “Let it go. It’s her night.”
I sighed and tried to brush it off, but then Laura made a show of walking me to my chair, an old wooden thing that looked like it had been dragged straight out of an attic.
Worth a small fortune. But I wanted you to sit in it, sweetie, because I know how you like antique things.”
I blinked. “Uh, thanks…
I guess.”
It struck me as odd, since I’ve never once shown any interest in antiques. I’m more of a minimalist — give me IKEA over Victorian furniture any day.
Still, I sat down. The moment I did, the chair groaned and then collapsed beneath me, as if someone had kicked its legs out from under it.
I hit the floor hard.Continue reading…
