Gabi was very much a woman, and not a saint. Still, the first time she found herself alone with Josh's journal, sitting in plain sight on his nightstand, she resisted the thrumming pressure from her brain to her fingertips, her shrieking nerve endings tell her to just open it.

The next time, it was on the kitchen counter while Josh ran out to bail Elliot's father out of prison—the particulars, Gabi didn't quite grasp, but they seemed to involve turtlenecks and a misunderstanding around a graffito. She sat at the kitchen island near it; then moved it to the coffee table, and found herself sitting on the couch. Finally, she set a ficus on it, as it to smother its cries: Read meeeeeeeeeee.

Perhaps it was only in her head.

It seemed, in the days that followed, to be everywhere—on the outside ledge of the hot tub, wedged in the couch cushions, on the closet floor.

One morning, two weeks before Christmas, Gabi woke to find it lying beside her in an otherwise empty bed. There was a note on top—Josh's handwriting. "Got up early to do some journaling. Will be at the downtown office this morning until 11. Spend your day off at the penthouse if you want and I'll see you for lunch." He signed a heart, and then his name.

Gabi traced the heart once, twice. Wondered if he'd written it intentionally—after all, Josh hadn't told her he loved her since they started sleeping together. Maybe it meant nothing?

But maybe it did. And maybe the answer as to whether it did was in the notebook, there beneath it. And since Josh wouldn't be home until eleven….

Not giving the angel and devil on her respective shoulders time for a debate, Gabi jerked open the object of her temptation to a random page. "Confess everything, Josh," she murmured challengingly.

It was dated three weeks before.

Had breakfast with Caroline this morning…

"What?" Gabi went from vaguely guilty to instantly outraged. "He didn't tell me he was eating a meal with Caroline. What else is he…" The guilt resurfaced. "OK, right, I didn't tell him I was gonna read his journal either, so we'll call it square for the moment." She turned back to the page at hand.

She's still just the same. Beautiful, smart, poised, confident. She has that voice that sounds like money. Did I mention beautiful?

"Jesus, Josh, we get it."

But my God, so unbelievably cold. And the conversation. Christ, it was boring. Her world is so small. As in, it consists only of her. When I asked how her parents were doing, she told me about the new Audi her dad bought for her. When I asked about her husband, I heard about their poolhouse remodel for ten minutes before she confessed he'd moved out.

"Moved out? Do not get any ideas, Caroline," Gabi warned the page. "Lots of people can say, 'I will cut you,' but not very many of them have my training."

I could tell she was fishing for some reason to tell her friends I was pining for her. She'll probably tell them that regardless. I told her I was seeing Gabi, that we were taking it slow, and she said, 'Poor Juju, you must be starved for stimulating company.'

"I will CUT you!" Gabi yelled, stabbing a finger fiercely at the page. Her heart was actually racing. "God, I hate you." Caroline got under her skin like no one else, worse than any of Josh's other girlfriends. It was because she was so opposite from Gabi herself. Dark where Gabi was fair, calculating where Gabi couldn't figure out her own tips at the diner, rich where Gabi's credit score was probably a negative number. Educated at Stanford, when Gabi's diploma came from the school of Hard Knocks, Hard Choices, and Hard Liquor.

"And, of course, Josh slept with me and then asked you to marry him a few hours later, so…." She shook her head. "Ugh. What do you see in her? No, that's not the question. The question is, how could one person possibly love both her and me?"

She turned back to Josh's journal, as though it could hear her.

But honestly, all I could think was: what did I ever see in her?

"Oh. Maybe you can hear me."

She's thoughtless, dictatorial, a total snob, and to say that she's 'distant' would be like pretending I thought she had emotions, somewhere far off. She didn't like my friends, didn't want to hear about my job, didn't like baseball, video games, The Wire, or anything else I like. She treated the people who work for me like servants. How did I never notice she was so boring? And the other thing is, I swear to God I never saw her eat anything but salad or drink anything but cocktails in two years.

"That's what I kept saying!" Gabi cried. "She was having secret meals without the rest of us. Where? With whom? Does she have weird teeth or… why?"

I think we would never even have dated except that I first met her at that party her parents threw for her when she finished her master's. Her dad was so proud, and Rita, her step-mom, is so warm. And seeing how they were with her got to me. I wanted what Caroline had so badly that I couldn't see that she's nothing like them. And actually, just the opposite. That she's exactly like my mother.

"Oh, yikes, Josh. Seriously, yikes."

I can see Caroline doing all the things Mom did. Leaving a ten-year-old in charge of a household while she ran off to Napa with her boyfriend for a week. Forgetting her children's birthdays one day a year, and lying about their ages or making them lie about hers on all the others. Asking them to cover for her with neighbors and people at her job, at school. Pulling kids out of school for impromptu shopping trips and vacations. Leaving them with their grandparents with no word of when she'd be back.

The only difference is that Mom always slipped me a $20 when she left me and Jake alone, and Caroline would definitely leave more money than that. So maybe our children wouldn't have gone hungry.

With that, Gabi's heart ripped neatly in two. She closed Josh's journal, set it down carefully. Extra carefully, because she wanted to throw it across the room. And she buried her head in her hands.

After a while of thinking about a small Josh, alone with a younger brother to take care of with a twenty dollar bill in his pocket and no idea when his mother would be home, she let the tears come.

And they came.

And that was how Josh found her. His dark t-shirt and his hair were slightly sweaty, because he'd biked home from the office. But he ditched his plans of hitting the shower instantaneously.

"Gabi—honey—what's wrong?" He was beside her with arms wrapped around her in a flash.

She just cried harder. "I'm… so… sorry," she choked out between sobs.

"It's OK. Whatever it is. It's OK. He held her tighter as she shook harder. "But you gotta tell me what it is. You're scaring me."

"I," she gulped, "should've," gulp, "let you go to," heave, "therapy." She sniffed, her shoulders shuddering slightly. "Without trying to," sniff, "rush you."

"I… OK?" Josh kept running a soothing hand down Gabi's back. "What's brought this on? Then his eyes fell on his journal, on the far side of the blankets. A clutch of dread crept into his abdomen. "Oh, no."

"Oh, yes." Gabi pulled herself regretfully out of his arms. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have, but I did. I read your journal."

Josh swallowed. "And…?"

"And I understand a little better now. What you went through, I mean. What you're trying to get past. And, well, God. Why do I do things like this? I know I violated your trust and I can't possibly expect you to forgive me—again—but I'm also just so grateful to understand…"

Josh, whose heartbeat was like a drumroll before a pageant winner was announced and who felt, oddly to Gabi, exactly as expectant, gripped her shoulders tightly. "So that's your answer," he said.

"My 'answer'? To what?" Gabi shook her head.

He took a steadying breath. "What, exactly, did you read?"

"About—about your breakfast with Caroline? Last month? About how she's," tears welled up in Gabi's eyes again, "just like your mom."

Josh's heart slowed, and his sense of time sped back up to a normal rate. "I see," he said evenly, his expression unreadable.

"I mean, to be honest, even though she has a lot going for her in some ways, I never understood how someone like you could fall for someone with such a terrible… heart."

Josh's brows lifted. "Someone like me?"

"You know. Generous, funny, smart, kind, protective, loyal, warm, did I say generous? It was like you couldn't see her. Like she was invisible to you."

He was afraid to even blink, now that he had Gabi talking. Finally. "I saw her. Eventually. Thanks to you."

"Yeah, eventually, but… I think that was why I was afraid to trust you later. You know? Like when you started having your 'commitment issues'? I thought that the part of you that'd wanted Caroline—who'd actually planned to marry Caroline—was you. Was the real you, your truest self. And you were hesitating with me because you realized you were just slumming with me, and, being you, you felt guilty about it. About leading me on."

Josh felt for the vibrations of the universe, and took their cue. He let the silence stretch and hoped she'd unlock more of what had gone wrong between them.

"That's not even right. Not totally. I thought—well, of course he wanted to marry someone like Caroline. Not just 'cause she's beautiful and smart and presentable and didn't actually need his money. But she was perfect because…" She swallowed. "I almost don't want to tell you."

"She was not at all perfect, Gabi. Not for me. So—tell me."

"She was perfect. Because she didn't need you, either! She didn't need anything from you. And you already had so many people who did, who do. Your mother the drunk, your brother the hobo drifter, a hundred employees. Elliot, Yolanda. And… me. So many burdens."

Well, Josh thought, the universe's vibrations be damned. "Never," he said vehemently. "You have never been a burden."

"No. Always. Paychecks. Networking opportunities. A new car. Saving my old car. Entrance to that chef competition, advice, loans, the food truck. Your blessing when I dated Cooper, and later Jake. I'm not a burden? Six months ago you were balancing the till at the diner for me."

"We were friends. Do you know how much you've done for me?"

"Oh, please."

"No, listen to me. You got me on the 30 under 30 list. You prevented me from marrying Caroline by making me the best birthday gift I've ever gotten. Well, second best, because marrying Caroline would have been the worst mistake of my life, and so the gift of ending that mess can't really be topped. You gave me a way and a reason to mend fences with my brother. You encouraged me to confront my demons in therapy and in my relationships, to become the man I want to be. And you've made CHEF a reality and not just a dream."

She swallowed convulsively. "Some of that doesn't count."

"And why's that?"

"Because." She thought for a moment. "I didn't intend to do it."

He stood up, moved a few feet away from her like he was trying to give her some space. He leaned back on the wall near the door frame. "Well. I didn't intend to fall in love with you. But it still, very much, counts." He held up a hand as her jaw dropped. "Hear me out. Please."

Gabi brought her feet up on the bed, tucked her knees near her chin. "'K."

"I know you have a problem being… dependent. With needing me. And I hear that. But I need you to know how I see the things I've done for you. To me, if I'm honest, they do come with strings attached. And those strings, they're what our relationship is made of. The things you've done for me are strings, too, and they tie us just as much. I want more of them. I want them to become ropes. I want neither of us to ever get free." He heard Gabi's sharply indrawn breath, rushed to reassure. "I just mean… honey. I'm dependent on you. I need you. You're what makes all of this," he gestured around them impatiently, "good. You're what makes me think I could be, well, worthy. Of better than I had come to expect from myself or anyone. Maybe even, one day, of you, if I'm lucky."

"Josh…"

"Gabi." He stalked to the bed, rifled the journal out of the mess of sheets, and shoved it into her hands. "Why do you think you've been tripping over this thing lately? I've left it out for you everywhere I could think of. Would you just read it, already? The last bit?"

Gabi looked at the blank, dark cover of the book in her hands, and then back up at him. "Are you sure?"

"More than you can imagine."

She looked at him uncertainly again, but then flipped through it to the end. "Have I told you that I really admire your penmanship?"

"Gabi."

She obeyed the plea in his voice where she would have ignored an order. "I'm kind of a slow reader. Give me a minute."

Hi, Gabi. I left my journal out for you to read because I trust you with everything I've felt. Good and bad. With every part of my life. Because I want you in all of them. You know I love you, right? Well, if you don't, you'll know once you've read this.

And when you've read the whole thing, I'd like you to consider a request:

Gabi, would you move in with me? I'm sick of spending nights without you. Mornings without you aren't worth talking about. I'll give you more space on the DVR and three quarters of the closet. The whole closet. Whatever you want. Think about it.

I know I can be thoughtless and arrogant. I know it's taken me a long time to figure everything out, and that, in the meantime, I let you down. I just want you to know that I really have figured it out. That I am a man you can count on. That I will never let you down again.

So just consider it?

(If it will help: I want you to know I also want to ask you to marry me. Soon. But I have something more romantic in mind than reading my boring soul-searching journal and knowing about all the days I pined for you.)

Read it. Then come find me. Tell me we don't have to live our lives apart anymore.

Please.

Love,

Josh

Gabi looked up at the man who'd written these words for her to find—who'd known her well enough to know that eventually she'd give in to the temptation to peak into his private thoughts, who'd loved her enough not to mind.

Josh's heart was in his eyes. But when she tossed the journal behind her on the bed, he shuttered them in defeat. He grabbed the doorframe with one hand as if to brace himself. So he didn't see her stand, and cross the room. His eyes came back open only when she pressed his free hand between both of hers.

"Yes," she said clearly.

He drew in a sharp breath. "But—you haven't even read it."

Gabi smiled. She looked like she was fighting a laugh. "You love me?"

"God. Yes. You have to know, after all this, after everything. Gabriella Diamond. You're the love of my life."

Her smile widened. "And you're gonna let me take care of you—cook for you when I want, work for CHEF when and how I want, and interfere in your life at random intervals when I feel like it?"

Now Josh's eyelids fell down over his lake-blue irises again, but not before Gabi saw that they were bright with hope.

"When have I ever stopped you?" he whispered roughly.

Her head fell companionably on his ready shoulder. She felt, suddenly and completely, at home. Still, she was not one to let a moment of advantage like this one slip away in the mire of gushy feelings. "You gonna let me pursue my own dreams in my own way?"

His stroke on her shoulder asked her to look at him again. "I can't promise I won't try to help. It would be unnatural. I'll just promise that I'll listen to you when you want me to stop."

"That's acceptable. And another thing," she tilted her head back to beam a smile his way. "You're a computer genius, Josh. Write your journal on your freaking computer and I'm sure you can figure out how to keep me and everyone else out of it. And don't be afraid to keep a secret or two from me. Just, you know, nothing big."

"Well. I don't know if I need a journal if you and I are actually talking. And I really do want you to read this one. I was writing to you half the time, anyway. Think of it as kind of a fucked-up love letter."

Gabi kissed the corner of his mouth. "Mmm. I really can't imagine how you're going to get more romantic than that when you propose. Nope. Hush. Not joking." He leaned down to try to kiss her, but Gabi tilted her head away. "One last thing." She adopted her best wheedling voice. "Will you come carry boxes and help me move?"

Josh's wave of a laugh, carrying as it did the riptide of his earlier fear and the undercurrent of years of regret, shook more than a bit when it bellowed out of him.

"Oh, honey," he murmured. "I know you don't want me to pay for movers for you. So yes. I will carrying boxes all day—all month if I have to. But one day you're gonna know that what's mine is yours."

"I think I'm strong enough to handle that now. So give me your worst."

"I'm gonna aim higher than that." He put his arms around her waist and spun her to face him fully. "But I have a condition of my own." He bent to press his mouth to hers, flirtatiously at first, and then persuasively. "Make dinner with me tonight," he murmured hotly into her left ear.

It sent a shiver right down her spine.

To that request, Gabi had only one thing to say, and she said it dragging Josh toward the bed behind them. "Yeah. You better believe I love you, too."