Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2)

“As a pastor of this church for thirty-five years, I’ve married many couples right here, at this very spot. So many, in fact, that I’ve married some of their children here as well.”


He chuckled a little under his breath, and the congregation joined him.

“Many of those couples stick out in this old memory of mine, those who just seem . . . well, special. Jude and Lailah, from the minute they stepped through the door, became one of those couples. Lailah’s overwhelming spirit seemed to fill the entire church as she bounced from corner to corner, gasping with excitement over the architecture of this beautiful building.”

I smiled, remembering that day. Pastor Mark recalled it perfectly.

Lailah and I had visited half a dozen churches while on vacation in Ireland, many just like this. Nothing had deterred her excitement each and every time she entered someplace new. Life would never dull for Lailah. Each day was a miracle.

“I’d seen such excitement before, but when I appeared and explained our process for being married here, that joy would usually soon dissolve, and many couples would disappear just as quickly as they’d appeared, searching for another church with a far easier process. See, I’m a bit old-fashioned.”

I rolled my eyes a bit, which caused Lailah to scrunch her nose and giggle a little.

“I still believe that a couple should know one another before marriage, which is why I require all my couples to go through premarital counseling. When I approached Lailah and Jude with this requirement, Lailah literally jumped up and down and asked when we could start. It was then that I knew I’d found something special.

“I’ve learned so much about these two since that day. Standing here, presiding over this blessed union, I am beyond honored.”

His warm smile, filled with love, shone down upon us. I’d grown immensely fond of this man over the last two months during our weekly sessions as we spent time getting to know him and his views of marriage and life.

“Lailah and Jude have chosen to recite their own vows, a modern touch that this old guy is actually pretty partial to.”

He gave me a nod, letting me know I could begin. A flutter of nerves settled into the pit of my stomach as I watched him turn the microphone in my direction, so the congregation could hear each and every word.

As my eyes settled on Lailah, suddenly, everything solidified, and calm found its way around my anxious emotions.

“A time not too long ago, I thought I’d never see you again. I’d wake up each morning, thinking about all the moments I’d told you I loved you, and that would only lead to all the times I hadn’t—like those hurried good-byes when I had seriously been pushing my thirty-minute lunch break or the many nights we’d fallen asleep together and never said it. All those missed opportunities to say I love you weighed on me, like pennies slowly filling up a jar until the little copper coins spilled out onto the floor.”

My fingers held on to hers as my thumb slowly grazed her hand over and over as I said my vows, “When you came back to me, I felt this overpowering need to tell you just how much I love you, every second of every minute of every day. Sorry, I know that those were probably a rough couple of days.”

The congregation laughed as her eyes lit up, and she giggled.

“I was simply overwhelmed. This—what I feel for you, Lailah—it’s powerful. Following those first few days after our reunion, I realized that I could do nothing for the rest of my existence but tell you just how much I love you, and it still wouldn’t be an accurate measurement of what I feel for you. My love is immeasurable, infinite and always evolving, and you have it, all of it—for as long as I live.”

Lailah’s lips quivered as she tightly squeezed her eyes closed. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the lace handkerchief my mother had given me moments before the ceremony. I gently held it to Lailah’s face and dabbed the tears away. Her fingers briefly curled around my wrist, touching the cuff link that rested there, before taking the handkerchief in her own hand.

Pastor Mark looked to her, silently asking if she was ready, and she nodded.

Her voice was a bit hoarse, filled with emotion, as she began to speak, “I could say so many things to you in this moment, including how you saved me in so many ways. But you would just shake your head and disagree, choosing to say the opposite.

“So, instead, I’m going to talk about snow.”

My eyebrows rose as several people in the church chuckled.

“Like most West Coasters, I have a weird obsession with snow. It’s cold and white, and it falls from the sky. The first time I saw it, I ran outside without even bothering to put on a jacket, and I danced around under snow flurries laughing and screaming like a crazed person. I’m fairly certain I nearly sent you to the hospital.” She grinned.

I nodded.