I swallowed thickly. I knew what he meant. “Carefree.”

“Am I wrong?”

I raked a hand through my hair. “That’s the way she made me feel.”

His eyes darted back to the computer screen. “And you’re sure Tabitha didn’t want a relationship with you or had feelings for you the way you did?”

I didn’t answer right away. I watched her pull back from me this morning. That was real. So was everything else that was good between us the past two weeks—the bright light of her tempting me to open, to soften, to trust again. Every secret, every teasing joke, the sound of her laughter, muffled against my chest in the morning. The desperate, urgent way she clung to me every time we had sex. The tender way she’d stroked my hair when I was sick, promising to stay all night.

And, most of all, her stubborn belief that people coming together could always make a difference. Tabitha had shown me her heart, time and time again. That was as real as anything I’d ever experienced.

“I’m not sure,” I said slowly. “I don’t know if she’s scared. Or running away for some other reason. But what’s been going on between us isn’t temporary.”

He turned his computer around. It was a website with Tabitha’s videos, linked to the pocket park donation page. I cringed when I saw all those names again. People we’d probably have to return money to. “Did you ever watch any of the videos Tabitha made about Tenth Street?”

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

Rowan hit Play on the most recent one. “She uploaded this a day ago. She said it was a bunch of random segments and some behind-the-scenes shots.”

Curious, I leaned in to read the caption: There are a lot of things to love about the neighbors working together on Tenth Street’s pocket park. It’s almost impossible to capture. So I present to you a short compilation of random moments that never made it into any of the videos I posted. I’m even in the background of a few of these from the day I set up my camera to record a long before/after piece. After watching this, you’ll see why this place means so very much to me.

I couldn’t help but smile at the images appearing on the screen, many I recognized from days Tabitha had jumped around with her camera. But there were some I hadn’t seen: Rowan and me laughing, telling stories about Eddie’s stoop. Me, helping my mothers plant tomato plants, Midge clearly teasing me as I grinned. Alice patting my cheek as I brought her a cup of coffee on the bench.