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So even though he leads me farther away from the restaurant than I expect him to, I don’t think anything of it. I guess hereallywants privacy. I wonder what this gift is.
Especially because he’s not carrying anything, so it must be small.
I can still hear the music faintly at the restaurant behind us, but there are no restaurants or businesses over here. It’s dark and I didn’t bring my phone.
“Um, Jet, if we go much farther, I won’t be able to see my gift.”
He glances back at me over his shoulder, then glances back at the restaurant as if determining if there’s enough distance.
That makes me frown, but I’m only confused, not worried.
We walk a few more steps, then he turns around to face me. He looks down at the sand briefly, then reaches into his jacket pocket and draws out a small box. It looks like the type of box gift cards come in at Christmastime.
“Open it.”
My gaze flickers up at him. I give him a tiny smile, then I take the lid off his present.
There’s a cottony cushion underneath a couple of scraps of paper. That explains why the box is so light. There’s hardly anything in it.
The paper is folded in half. I glance up at him, still with a faint smile, but now a little confused. I’m hoping for an explanation.
He doesn’t give one, just waits for me to unfold the paper.
A gust of wind blows by, sucking my dress between my legs and blowing my hair in my face. I push it back, then unfold the paper and look at the one on top. It looks like a newspaper clipping.
My confusion deepens.
Jet turns on his phone’s flashlight feature and all the air is instantly sucked from my lungs.
It’s a picture of Larry. I drop it and the box it came in like they’re both on fire.
“What the fuck is this?”
He bends to grab the papers before they blow away, then he offers one back to me.
I don’t know what the hell it is or why the fuck he’s giving me a picture of that pig on my wedding night, but I don’t find it the least bit amusing.
“Read it,” he prods, still holding out the paper.
I glare at him, but snatch the paper out of his hand, anyway.
My stomach churns. I don’t like this at all, but he’s adamant, so I try to ignore the buzzing, oozy feeling in my brain and just read the article since seeing that worm’s face makes my skin crawl.
My eyes move across the first lines so fast, I miss what they’re saying and have to start over.
In loving memory…
Wait.
That’s what they say when people die.
Did hedie? I’m hardly sad about it, but I am surprised. I don’t know exactly how old Larry was, but he was hardly an old man. Middle-aged.
Though I guess he didn’t live a healthy lifestyle. He and my mom partied a lot. Maybe he overdosed.
Less ragey about this still strange “gift” he’s giving me, I look up at Jet with a mild frown. “He died?”
The smile on his face is… odd.
