"Nick!" I warn, fear gripping me as headlights appear on the hill, headed straight toward us.
The other car blares its horn, knowing there's nowhere to go out here; the guardrail is all that separates the left lane from the rocks below. They'll run right through us because trying to stop isn't an option if there's ice on the road.
I act fast, grabbing the steering wheel that he abandoned to reach behind him, praying that we don't hit a patch of black ice.
I spin the wheel, careful not to overcorrect and end up leveling us back into our own lane seconds before a pickup-truck whizzes past us in the other lane.
"Sorry," Nick chuckles, grabbing hold of the steering wheel again and grinning like he didn't just almost kill us both.
Fucking psychopath.
The adrenaline surge makes it hard to find words to yell at him or call him stupid or anything. In fact, I don't know if it's shock or my body remembering I'm alive, but the sudden rush through my veins makes me feel light, and before I even realize it, I'mlaughing.
I know it makes no sense, and I really shouldn't be laughing at the fact that we were inches from death, but I can't help it. It just comes out of me, like it's been waiting for this whole last year to finally escape.
When I manage a glance at Nick, he isn't actually watching me with concern; he doesn't seem to be afraid that I've lost my mind. He's grinning too, as amused with our near collision as me.
"My bad." He chuckles. "I guess I should have waited 'til we got to the church, but I didn't want to forget. I got you something."
My laughter curtails as I look at the box he'd set in his lap.
If I hadn't seen him reaching into the backseat, I'd think this was an awful prank, the way the giftwrapped present is positioned.
"Go on," he says. "I don't want to take my hands off the steering wheel again."
The absurdity of that makes the laughter strike again, but this time I tamp it down, reaching cautiously for the box and checking the tag with my name printed on it in perfect block letters.
That, at last, abates my laughter entirely, as my blood runs cold, all the heat from the car suddenly evaporating as we pull into the empty church parking lot.
I know that handwriting.
Chapter 2
Nikki
"Whatisthis?"
Nick drapes an arm over the steering wheel and turns to face me.
"Open it."
I have questions, but right now, they're all stuck on the tip of my tongue, and Nick is just watching me. My hands tremble as I remove the tag carefully, not wanting to rip it. I saved every old text and voice message, but I never thought I'd see his handwriting again. There's no chance I'm going to let it be destroyed, so I set it gingerly in the door handle and turn my attention to the ribbon, which unravels easily with a single pull. Part of the bow is smooshed, and the paper is a little wrinkly, as if it's been wrapped for a while... like maybe a year ago.
As I peel back the paper, I notice the black box underneath. It's non-descript, too big to be jewelry, too small to be clothing.
"This is from Noah?" I ask, letting my fingers traipse over the smooth cardboard, imagining him wrapping this. But it's too perfect; professional, like it had been wrapped at a gift counter.
"Yeah. He left it in my car the last time he—" Nick breaks off, swallowing the rest of his words. "He left it in my car."
The world around me feels like a blur of darkness and light, and I don't even stop to ask Nick why he wouldn't have told me about this sooner. I don't care why he didn't tell me sooner. I don't even care what's inside the box, because just seeing his handwriting again, thelove Noah, is the best gift I've ever gotten.
When Noah took his own life, he did it without offering anyone any kind of explanation.
One day he was fine, happy and laughing and making plans for the future. The next, he had blown his brains out before Jesus Christ on the cross in the church. There was no note, nothing suspicious in his notes app, no online searches that would have shown he was about to do anything.
There were no signs, and there were no answers.
Is his last gift to me going to give me any sort of closure?
