Shayla cleared away the bowls once we were done with them and then suggested that we all get some sleep. She promised that we would leave early tomorrow—no later than 6 AM—and it was in Lawrence’s interest to sleep. The time would pass more quickly.

Given that the two bedrooms contained a double bed each, we were now faced with the matter of who would sleep where. I quickly volunteered to rest on the sofa, even though Shayla said that she didn’t mind.

Shayla retired to her bedroom with one of the water bottles, leaving Lawrence and me to wind down. I opened up my suitcase that had been resting on Lawrence’s bedside table and unpacked some essentials—pajamas, toothpaste and toothbrushes. I helped Lawrence to the bathroom where I waited while he brushed his teeth with the bottled water. He still appeared to be in quite a daze, but he seemed… genuinely happy. Relieved, in spite of whatever pain his body was still giving him.

As nervous as I still felt about the whole affair—what exactly he might end up discovering about himself—my mood couldn’t help but lift, too. I’d been around this man so intensely and incessantly for so many days in a row, my mind so wired into his needs, his happiness, it came as kind of a shock to realize how much my own happiness had come to depend on his when I was with him. But I guessed, as a caregiver, that could simply be chalked up to me doing my job right. A good caregiver was supposed to be deeply empathetic.

Once Lawrence had finished brushing his teeth, he wheeled himself out to the bedroom, allowing me to have the bathroom all to myself. I closed the door and changed into my pajamas, then brushed my teeth.

When I emerged in the bedroom about ten minutes later, to my horror, it was to find Lawrence sitting up in bed… clutching my pink, polka-dot notebook.

“No!” I squealed. “Jo—Lawrence!” I rushed to the bed and grabbed it from him, even as amusement sparked in his eyes.

I felt absolutely mortified to imagine how much he had read already. Although it was supposed to just be notes and observations about him, as time had gone on, it had become almost like a diary. I’d also found myself jotting down some of my own inner thoughts and feelings regarding my interactions with him. I’d never thought he would actually read them!

“How did you get a hold of this?” I scolded him.

“You left it by my bedside,” he said matter-of-factly. “Seeing that you placed it so close to me, I didn’t think that it would be anything very private.”

I cursed myself. I must’ve planted the notebook down on the table while I was unpacking the toothbrushes and forgotten to replace it in the suitcase.

“I’m sorry,” he went on, the corners of his lips still curved. “Though I’m not sure what you are so embarrassed about.”

Ugh. I found myself flipping through the notebook in a panic, reminding myself of what I’d written. “How far did you get into this?” I asked.

“Not far,” he said. “Just the first page…”

That’s why you didn’t find anything too embarrassing yet.

“I would really like to finish reading it, though, if you would allow me, Grace.”

Oh, my God. No, no, no. “It’s just my stupid, rambling notes,” I said, moving to stow the book back in the suitcase.

“I didn’t detect anything stupid about them,” he commented, polite but insistent. “And I have a pretty high stupid detector. I found your observations incredibly interesting. Enlightening, even. At least, those I managed to glimpse so far.”

I paused, staring down reluctantly at the book in my hands. Since he really was insisting, I supposed that I could hand-pick a few observations and let him read them.

I turned on him, my eyes narrowing. “Okay. Scooch over.”

He moved over on the bed, making room for me to sit next to him. I kept the notebook’s pages away from his view as I began turning them. Since he had already scanned the first page, I moved to the second. But from here on, as I’d started to get to know him a little better, the comments all seemed kind of personal.

“I’m waiting,” he said.

“And you may be waiting forever…” I murmured grimly, gritting my teeth as I flipped to the last page. Augh. I really didn’t want him to read any more than he already had.

“How about this,” he suggested. “You hand me the notebook, but read along with me. If I get to something that’s absolutely too excruciating for you, you can just snatch the book off me again. All right?”

I heaved a sigh. Would there really be any harm in him reading it, other than my own embarrassment? It might even be good for him to read all my observations compiled in one place. Perhaps it would help to spark something in him.

I reluctantly handed him the book and leaned back against the pillows with him as he held the notebook up and opened to the second page.

As his eyes began to travel down the page, I nudged him in the shoulder and said, “Hey, no cheating. Start reading from the top.”

And so he did. Details of the second day we’d spent with each other. Most of it seemed pretty mundane now, in light of everything that had happened since, but Josh read it with interest before turning to the third page.

Once I realized that he was nearing the bit when he’d snapped at me in the bathroom after his failed attempt at shaving, I wasn’t sure I could bear it. I moved to take the book from him, but he held on tight.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ve read this far. You might as well let me finish it.”