Page 72 of To the Moon and Back
Never love anyone the way she loved him.
Everything about being back in the café put Jenna’s heart on high alert. She had to fight to keep from drowning in Brady’s presence. The way his voice soothed her soul, the feel of his arm against hers as they waited for their drinks.
Since Brady had been well enough to get around he had teased Jenna that she was a coffee addict. “It’s a teacher thing,” she always told him. As for Brady, he had given up coffee his first year as a firefighter.
Now, though, when she ordered a caffe breve, he stepped up beside her, his eyes sparkling. “Make it two, please.”
“Yes, sir. Two.” The guy behind the counter entered the order.
Jenna looked at Brady, confused. “Two?”
“One for me.” He elbowed her gently in the ribs. “I gotta broaden my horizons a little, right? Get out of my box.”
Something in his tone made her laugh, and he started to laugh, too. And Jenna realized something. They hadn’t done much of this recently. Between his injuries and rehab and the desperate feeling that they were running out of time, they hadn’t laughed.
The exhilaration and joy that came with it felt wonderful.
When their coffees were ready Jenna put a cardboard sleeve on her cup and Brady did the same. He winked at her. “You’re the expert.”
“Definitely.” She loved this, the way she felt around him. She couldn’t help herself. That was the problem: this feeling, the way she fell into his gravity, could never be enough. She would keep her promise to God, no matter what.
Even if it meant losing him.
As they walked out of the coffee shop, Brady put his arm around her. The touch of his fingers against her shoulder sent chills down her. If she stayed another week, no matter what her convictions, Jenna was certain of one thing.
She’d never go home.
As soon as they were in the truck, Brady took his first sip of coffee and started to make a face. But then his eyebrows raised and his expression relaxed. “What in the . . . Are you kidding me? No wonder I gave it up.”
“What?” She laughed. “You mean because it’s so good, right?”
Another sip and Brady sank back in his seat. “This is amazing.” He pointed at her, his eyes sparkling. “When I’m addicted a month from now, it’ll be your fault.”
“Guilty.” With everything in her she wanted to stay here, hold on to the moment. Forget about the conversation that would come later. But even as she laughed again, she knew. There was no way to save what they had found.
They reached the memorial ten minutes later, and the place was nearly empty. As they walked onto the grounds, Brady stopped. He looked around and breathed deep. “I can’t believe you’re here. The two of us like it was that day.”
The smell of jasmine filled the air, the summer sun warm on their skin. “I remember everything about it.” She faced him. This couldn’t go on. Jenna had to say something. “Brady . . . we need to talk.”
He searched her eyes, and gradually his smile faded. A dozen thoughts seemed to flash in his expression. Was something wrong? How could she ruin a perfectly good day? Didn’t she know how he felt about her? Without a single word, Jenna could see it all. But he said only “Sure.”
They didn’t have to talk about where they would go, which of the benches they would sit on. Without a word they started walking toward the Survivor Tree. They still had their coffees, but with his free hand, Brady took hers.
She didn’t resist. There were only so many hours like this left.
They made their way up the stairs and sat on the bench closest to the tree. For a few minutes they stared at it, drinking their coffee. Lost to yesterday.
When they finished their drinks, Brady took both cups to a nearby trash can. With his every step, her every heartbeat, Jenna could feel the sorrow build. If only there were some other way.
Brady returned and sat facing her. He put his arm up along the back of the bench and watched her. He seemed in no hurry. “What’s on your heart, Jenna?”
So much. She wanted to grab his hand and run as far away from here as she could, to a place where Brady’s eyes could finally be opened to God. Or where she could break down and cry for a hundred days.
The last thing she wanted was to tell him the truth.
She didn’t look away. First things first. “Brady . . .” She drew a shallow breath and pushed ahead. “I have to leave tomorrow morning. I found out last night. We have a mandatory teachers’ meeting Monday.”
His expression was something Jenna had seen before. When she was in high school some kid had walked up and sucker punched a boy. Jenna was right there, headed to lunch. She saw the whole thing. The approach, the swing. And the way the other kid looked after the hit.
