Page 74 of To the Moon and Back
There was one more piece, one more truth he had to hear. She looked deep into his eyes. “Every day without my parents I want to remember . . . that God alone lets me live in the healing. I’m a survivor because of Him. Because He has my parents safe in heaven and one day . . .” Her voice broke. She blinked back the new tears . Let him hear this, please. “One day I’ll be with them again. And when that time comes, I want the people I love . . . to be there, too.”
Quiet fell over the moment. She didn’t want to move on from here. What could she say? There was no way around the goodbye ahead.
Brady broke the silence first. “My mom . . . she believed.” He looked from the glass box to Jenna. His voice fell to barely a whisper. “Look where it got her.”
Jenna understood. Without a different view of the heartache in the world, it was impossible to understand how a great and loving God could allow tragedy on earth. Scripture offered a chance to make sense of it all. But it was never easy. Even for her. She breathed in, thinking of a way to respond. “She’s with Him now. She’s having the happiest time, so happy we can’t even imagine it.”
He considered that for a long moment. Then he did a slight shrug. “I don’t know, Jenna. I’m not sure.”
“I am.” Her answer was quick. “You know what your mother is doing right now?” She didn’t wait for his response. “She’s praying for you. That you’ll see each other again one day.”
Brady flexed his jaw. Whatever he was thinking, he didn’t speak it.
They walked together to his mother’s glass memory box. “To the moon and back.” He put his hand over the top of the container and his gaze seemed to fall on the page with the childlike artwork. “I drew that for her just before she died.”
Tears filled her eyes again. “I’m sorry, Brady.” She paused. “For both of us.” This would probably be the last time Jenna visited the memorial. She didn’t like thinking of her parents here. She liked thinking of them in heaven.
With Brady’s mom.
He released her fingers and turned to her. His eyes were full of love and hurt. “Why, Jenna?” He seemed to search for the place in her soul where the answers lived. “Why is it so important that I believe?” He put his hand on her cheek, his fingers in her hair. “I love you. Isn’t that enough?”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t turn and run. Couldn’t do anything to stop the way her heart was breaking. Brady Bradshaw actually loved her after all this time. The whole scene felt like something from a dream, except for one thing. This wasn’t a beginning.
It was an ending.
And suddenly nothing could’ve kept them apart. She closed the distance between them and said the only words that mattered in this moment. “I love you, too, Brady.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “I always will.” She struggled to speak. “I always have.”
“Then why?” His voice was broken, as if he was completely unable to make sense of what was happening.
She had no words. Not now. Not here. Brady leaned in and in a blur of the most wonderful, most gut-wrenching seconds, he kissed her. Here, in the exact spot where he had almost kissed her years ago. Like they’d come full circle.
Their tears mixed and the taste was salty on her lips.
Another kiss and then Jenna pulled back a few inches. “Brady . . . I can’t.” She stared at the ground and then at him. “Please . . . can we leave?”
His hand was still on the side of her face. But gradually his expression showed the beginning of defeat. He nodded, searching her eyes. “Okay.”
They were headed toward the door, when Jenna saw the wall. The one with the time stamp engraved on it. Suddenly she didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Not until she’d explained herself a little better. “Wait. I want to show you something.”
“Jenna . . .” He stopped and crossed his arms. Like he couldn’t stand to draw out this terrible goodbye for another minute.
“Please, Brady . . . it’s important.” She led the way outside to the survivor wall, the one she’d visited last time she was here. Even if he’d seen it a dozen times, she wanted him to see it again.
When they were standing in front of the cracked slab of concrete, she pointed to his name—engraved with the others who had lived through the bombing. “See.”
Brady looked confused. “What? My name?” He shrugged. “So?”
“So . . .” She turned to him and searched his eyes. Please, God, let him get this. “You’re a survivor, Brady. It says so right there in that piece of the building. God let you survive.” She paused, letting the weight of this hit him. “And He did that for a reason.”
She felt the key around her neck and in that instant she knew what she had to do. She looked around and spotted a bench nearby. “Can we sit here . . . for a minute?”
“Why?” He took a step back. “I mean, Jenna . . . what’s the point?”
She felt terrible. All she wanted was for him to kiss her again. But there was no way back. She would do this one last thing for Brady, then she would say goodbye. Forever. Because of her love for God she’d found the superhuman strength to do something she wasn’t sure she could ever do.
Push Brady away.
She found her voice. “After all we’ve been through . . . I can’t leave without giving you something.”
