Page 75 of To the Moon and Back
He stared at her for a minute, looking like he had just lost his best friend. “Okay.”
This was hard for him. Hard for both of them.
His hesitation didn’t last long. With a slight sigh of what seemed to be resignation, he reached for her hand once more. It was one thing to stop him from kissing her, but she wouldn’t resist him taking her hand. When their fingers were together, their hearts were, too. That had been true from the beginning.
Jenna sat on the bench and Brady did the same. Their knees and shoulders were touching. She took a slow breath. “Do you remember what the time stamp on the wall stands for?”
“The 9:01?” He clearly knew the memorial grounds well. “There are two walls, Jenna.”
“Not that one.” If only she could fix the brokenness inside him. “We can’t go back to 9:01. None of us can.” She hesitated. “I’m talking about the other wall.”
Brady nodded slowly and looked at the wall at the other end of the pool. “I know it.” He sat a little straighter, almost as if he were squaring off with the wall. Like the two of them were enemies somehow. After a long moment he shook his head. “I never got there. 9:03.”
Give me the words, God, please. Help him hear me in his heart. She held her key necklace and looked from it to Brady. “You said you liked my necklace. Look at it.”
A quick hesitation and then gently he took the key and stared at it. The realization hit him all at once. She could see it in his eyes. He nodded slowly and lifted his face to hers. “The minute healing began.” He looked at the key again. “You live in 9:03. Life after the bombing.”
“Yes.” She blinked back her own tears. The story needed to be shared. “I had returned to God before I met Dan. I met him at church, so I thought he believed the way I did. The way my parents did.” She caught a tear with her fingertips and tried to focus. “But in the months after we married, I found out he didn’t. He only pretended to believe in God.”
Brady was listening. His expression held a layer of sympathy that hadn’t been there before.
The sun was hot overhead, but Jenna barely noticed. “Dan stopped going to church with me, stopped wanting to talk about the Bible.” She could picture herself back then, married and alone. “I thought he might be having an affair with one of our neighbors. But before I could figure it out, he was gone.” She blinked back another wave of tears. “I never heard from him again.”
For a while Brady said nothing. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She sniffed and shook her head. “I’ve been over him for a long time. I’m at peace.” This was the part she wanted him to understand. “But after he left, I made God a promise. I said I’d never fall in love with an unbeliever again. Never.”
Brady’s understanding was instant. He released her hand. “So that’s it.” He nodded and folded his hands. For a long moment he stared at the ground. Then he looked at her. “I get it.” His hint of a smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You made a promise to God. So I’m not the guy.”
He looked off, but after a few seconds he turned to her again.
“Jenna, I would do anything to keep you here with me.” He leaned closer, looking into the deepest places of her soul. “I would say anything.” He hesitated. “But I will never lie to you.” The hurt in his eyes intensified. “I don’t believe. I can’t.”
His words were like so many bullets. But she ignored them. There was something she had to do.
The key was still between her thumb and forefinger, her eyes on his. “This is called a Giving Key. It’s meant to be given away.” She paused. “I bought it because I hoped . . . I prayed . . . that one day we’d find each other and . . . and you’d believe in God again.” She wiped another tear.
He seemed to feel the news to his core. Any slight smile faded, and he clenched his jaw. “I’m not there, Jenna. I’m sorry.”
Her tears came harder now. With her fingertips she dabbed beneath her eyes. “I understand.” Composure, Jenna. You can’t break down. She drew a deep breath. “I see that now.”
“And it’s why you and I . . .” His eyes were damp. “Why this can’t work.”
“Yes.” That was it. She’d said everything there was to say. “I’m sorry, Brady. I promised God for a reason.” She hesitated. “It’s a reason that still matters.”
There was one more thing she needed to do. Jenna unclasped the key necklace and clutched it in her hand. “This is yours. I’ve wanted to give it to you for a long time.” She held it out to him.
“I can’t . . .” He shook his head. “It’s yours.”
“I’m there, Brady. Like you said, I live in 9:03.” This time she took hold of his hand and gently placed the necklace in his palm. “It’s yours now. And as long as I live I’ll pray you get there someday.”
He looked at the key for a long moment, at the time stamp at the center. Then he slipped it into his pocket, his movements slow as if he didn’t want to damage the chain. His eyes found hers again. “Thank you.” Brady stood. There was nothing more to share, nothing else to discuss. Despite the hurt in his eyes, he held out his hand one last time. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”
As they walked past the reflecting pool Jenna caught the image of the two of them. And in that instant she saw what Brady saw. Two people desperate. Holding hands so they wouldn’t fall to the ground. Heartbroken.
Changed forever by the bombing.
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