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I tell myself it's because I need to know what the hell she's up to. Why she's marching around the wrong side of the park. But the wave of emotion that washes over me is closer to anticipation than curiosity.

I push it open slowly, the part of me that's still undecided about why I'm even doing this winning out over the part that's racing toward her. But just as I do, she shrugs her shoulders with the false confidence of someone who's just decided they're sticking to a decision they're still unsure of.

Then she turns around.

"Geez," she says, one hand flying toward her forehead, the other swinging the bag like nunchucks.

She takes a deep breath with her palm still covering her face, then looks at me. "Sorry," she says. "You scared me."

"I scared you? I'm not the one lurking outside a building with an unidentified bag… in the dark."

She tilts her head, the corners of her lips curling ever so slightly. "Ha ha. Very funny."

"Seriously," I say, shutting the door behind me. "Looks a little suspicious to me."

She folds in slightly as she avoids making eye contact. "I, uh… I didn't know you could see me."

I scoff. "I assumed."

She shoots me a look that drips with the perfect combination of embarrassment and amusement. Like she's not sure if she should keep playing along or if we should finally address the thing we're both dancing around.

"What are you doing here, Lenny?" I ask, deciding for her.

She sighs, then licks her lips.

And fuck—I notice.

"I was at the store after work, and I grabbed you a few things."

She holds up the bag, and I raise my brows, genuinely surprised.

That might be the last thing I expected her to say. A brick, a restraining order, a note finally telling me what happened all those years ago—I would have guessed just about anything else to be in her hand other than groceries she bought with me in mind.

"It's nothing weird," she clarifies. "Just some stuff to help you with the sleep thing."

My jaw tightens.

I hold her gaze thinking maybe she's kidding, and when she doesn't so much as blink, my hand finds the back of my head, rubbing at my recent fade. "It's really not that serious."

She shakes her head. "I'm sure it isn't. But I'm a nurse, so fixing health issues is kind of my thing."

I shrug, playing it off. "I wouldn't call it an issue."

She hesitates. "Okay, well, I just thought these might help." She holds up the bag up again, and nerves pull in my stomach.

I don't take it.

Not because I'm trying to be a dick, but because taking it feels like making a choice. Like her bringing it here is a fork in the road, and accepting it feels like starting fresh. Starting over. And I'm not sure the past is that easily erased.

"Doesn't really explain the pacing," I say matter-of-factly, avoiding making a decision at all.

Lenny takes the hint and drops her arm, giving in but not giving up.

"Well…" She takes a deep breath, gearing up to respond. "I didn't know which place was yours, obviously. Just the building. So I had this idea in my head that I'd leave the bag if you just—"

"If I just what?"

She swallows. "If you just so happened to be around. And if not, I'd give it to the doorman to give to you."