I Don’t Read Between The Lines, I Only Tell The Truth Outright Chapter 10

I Don’t Read Between The Lines, I Only Tell The Truth Outright Chapter 10

Six months later, I bought a place. It wasn’t big, just two bedrooms and a living room, and the deed had one

name on it.

On moving day, the whole HR crew came over to help, and my boss sent a coffee machine.

Diane’s case finally came to an end too. The company sued her and recovered every dollar of the kickbacks. I

heard that on the day of the ruling, she was still calling me a girl who didn’t understand how the world works.

I wasn’t there to hear it, because that day was my birthday.

At 6 p.m., the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and all six Westons were standing outside.

Daphne was with them. She had lost weight, and she looked better than she had in years. My mother was carrying a cake, and my father held a bouquet like a man who had never given flowers before.

Eli spoke first. “So, can we come in?”

“Who gave you my address?”

Adrian pointed at Miles. Miles pointed at Daphne.

Daphne shook her head. “It wasn’t me.”

My father cleared his throat. “I called your company.”

I looked at him. “Without asking me.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” He answered fast.

I stepped out of the doorway.

My coworkers had made everything on the table. There weren’t enough seats, and Eli went and got more chairs without being asked.

My mother didn’t take the head of the table. She stood beside it and asked me a question. “Nora, where do

you want to sit?”

I pulled out the chair by the window. “Here.”

“All right.”

Nobody said a word about who was used to sitting where.

Before we ate, Daphne handed me an envelope. Inside was the foundation’s remediation report: every dollar had been repaid, and her personal brand had been completely separated from the Weston Group.

“I’m not borrowing the family name anymore.”

I asked her one thing. “Can you hold to that?”

“I have to, whether I can or not.” She stopped and then added something. “It’s my problem.”

I nodded. “That’s a good answer.”

Eli laughed before he could stop himself, and the room loosened up.

When the cake came to the table, my mother started crying. “We weren’t there for a single birthday while you

were growing up.”

I corrected her. “It wasn’t one. It was 24.”

That made her cry harder, and Adrian handed her a napkin. I didn’t comfort her, and I didn’t tell her to stop.

After a while, my father spoke quietly. “Nora, we know one apology isn’t enough.”

“Then don’t only say it.”

“We’ll change.”

“For how long?”

My father looked at me. “You’ll see.”

I picked up the knife and cut the first slice. My mother’s hand came out on instinct to pass it to Daphne, and

halfway there, she stopped.

“The first piece. Who do you want it to go to?”

I set the plate down in front of me. “Me.”

That caught all of them off guard.

Daphne laughed first. “She’s right. The birthday girl goes first.”

I took a bite. It was almost too sweet, but it wasn’t bad.

After dinner, my mother asked me something. “Will you come home again?”

I looked at her. “This is my home.”

The light in her eyes dimmed, and then I said something else. “If you want to visit, ask me first. If I’m free, I’ll

open the door.”

My father nodded. “All right.”

When I walked them out, Daphne came last. She turned back to me. “Do you still nitpick everything?”

“I do.”

“Isn’t that exhausting?”

“It used to be.” I looked at the new plate on my door, and it read Nora Weston. “It isn’t anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t have to ask questions anymore to prove that I was wronged.”

Before I closed the door, I added one more thing. “And I don’t have to wait for anybody to give me my seat

back. I pick my own seat now.”