10 minutes later:

Ruth sits on her sofa, watching Harry through the kitchen doorway as he opens the bottle of red wine he'd brought with him. Like every time he is fully occupied with a task, his face is serious and focused, and his lips protrude in a pout, while a frown furrows his forehead. She loves that about him. Her eyes take in the expanse of his shoulders, down his arms to his strong hands, where one hand grasps the bottle, while the other pulls the corkscrew to remove the cork. She wonders how those hands would feel were they to glance across her bare skin. His shoulders curve, and he stands with one foot slightly in front of the other. She is still gazing at his legs, trying to determine the shape of them inside his trousers, when he turns towards her. She lifts her eyes to see him watching her, one eyebrow lifted.

"Is there something wrong?" he asks.

She shakes her head, perhaps too vigorously. "No. I was just …..." She can hardly say, `I was trying to imagine what you'd look like without clothes,' so she says nothing more.

"We both do it, you know," he says, sitting at a safe distance in a chair across the coffee table from where she is sitting. "We secretly watch one another, hoping the other won't notice. I always know when you're watching me."

Ruth nods as he hands her her wine, and she takes a gulp …... anything so that she'll not be tempted to speak, just in case she speaks the truth to him …... just in case her words shock him. Harry sits back in the chair, and watches her while she concentrates on avoiding eye contact.

"I know what you're thinking when you watch me, you know," he continues. Ruth wishes he'd shut up. "I know that you think about me the same way I think about you."

Ruth is relieved when he stops speaking, and focuses on his glass of wine. They sit in silence for another few minutes. Ruth avoids looking his way, while Harry again tries to engage her by watching her. She can't stand it – this distance between them – and she knows now that it's all her fault. She knows that all the awkwardness, the silences, the misunderstanding, even Harry's odd marriage proposal, which had seemed to come out all wrong …... it's all down to her. She has been damaged by all she has lived through, and she hopes she has not damaged any chance there is for she and Harry to try to make something work between them.

She can't stand only being able to love Harry in her head.

She can't stand only being free to kiss him when they are about to part forever.

She can't stand never knowing what he looks like under his clothes, what his bare skin would feel like against her own.

She can't stand to never know how it would feel to have him moving inside her.

How is it she has denied herself – and them – the very thing they both want?

Why has she done this? Why is she still doing it, even after having admitted to herself that it is he she wants?

"Harry …..." she begins, her eyes lifting only momentarily to see his eyes on her, their softness almost too much to bear. "I'm really …... really sorry."

He nods, and there is the slightest of smiles around his mouth. Ruth takes a breath. She has something to say, and she must say it. If she doesn't say it now, it may never be said ….. ever.

"Harry …... I have something quite important to ask you."

Harry nods again.

"Why …... why do you want to marry me?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"Not to me. I'd thought we were fine …... as we are, but now I know …... that's not true. How will being married change that? I need to know …... how you see us ….. that way."

This time it is he who looks down, turning his wine glass around in his hands, as he plans what to say next. "Why do you need to know, Ruth?"

"Because …..." She stumbles then. She knows that she holds all the cards …... well, most of them. She knows that were she to again deny him, deny them, there may be no going back. Were she to again say no to Harry, that would surely be the end …. for them. There is only so much rejection he can take. "Because I'd like to know what it was I said no to …... so that I can …. perhaps …... reconsider."

Ruth looks up into Harry's eyes, as he very carefully places his wine glass on the coffee table, and folds his hands between his knees as he leans forward, preparing to speak.

"How would you describe our working relationship, Ruth?" His voice is soft, gentle, and Ruth has a fleeting image of him speaking softly to one of his children as a baby. She imagines his hands holding the child close to him, leaning his face down to …...

Ruth sits up straight, and again meets his eyes across the table.

"I see it as close, warm, respectful …... and in its own way, it is …... intimate, and …... exclusive. We work very well together. What you can't do, I can, and …... vice versa. We're …... very good together. We complement one another."

Harry is nodding as she speaks. So he agrees. "How do you think we would be were we to go home together each night? How would we be as partners …... under the same roof?"

"I suppose we'd …... be much the same, really. We'd share tasks, and some you'd do, and some I would do. We'd argue sometimes, but that's normal …... isn't it?"

Harry nods. "It is. And how do you think it might work for us in the bedroom, Ruth?"

She'd known this was coming, and she's determined to approach the subject in an adult manner. After all, Harry is a man, and he wants to sleep with her. He's never actually said so, though, so …...

"Do you want me in the bedroom, Harry?"

"Of course I do. Can't you tell?"

This time, Ruth shakes her head. She's sure that he must want there to be …... activities of an intimate nature in the bedroom, but they've never talked about it. He's not ever shown her that he wants that.

"Do you mind if I come around and sit next to you? What I have to say is best said while we're sitting close to one another."

Ruth nods, and she is afraid the power of speech – which so far has been rather working well for her – has suddenly left her.

Suddenly, Harry is sitting beside her – close, but not touching. Ruth glances across to see that his knee is very close to her own. Without thinking about it, she reaches out with her hand, and rests it on his thigh, quite close to his knee. He doesn't pull away. He doesn't do anything. She looks into his face to see him smiling at her.

"What do you think?" he says.

"You're warm, Harry."

"Of course I am. Ruth ….. would you like it if I held your hand?"

She nods, and then looks down to see his hand close to her own. She turns her hand so that her palm faces upwards, and he grasps her hand in his, lacing his fingers between hers. When he settles their joined hands on his thigh, Ruth breathes out.

"Better?" he asks, and she nods, smiling up at him. It is not until she leans back and relaxes that Harry continues to speak. "Why did you ask me whether I want to sleep with you? Isn't it obvious that I do?"

"Other than when you asked me to marry you, no. Since my return from Cyprus, you've not shown any interest in me in that way. That's why I thought that working together might be enough …... for you."

"Ruth …... look at me.".

She slowly lifts her eyes to his, where all she sees is kindness.

"Ruth …... believe me when I say that apart from when I'm facing a crisis at work, or in the middle of an important meeting, I think of little other than you and me ... being alone together. It consumes me, occupying my waking thoughts far more than it should ….. but that isn't the reason I want to marry you."

"It isn't?"

"No." Harry looks down for a moment, and Ruth is afraid he's not about to qualify his response to her question. When his eyes again meet hers, his expression is serious. "I want you, Ruth ….. not just your body in my bed. I want everything with you. I want to join our lives. I want to eat my meals with you, climb the stairs with you at the end of the day, and wake up each morning to see you beside me. Ruth ….. when we part at the end of each day, it's like losing you all over again. Does that answer your question?"

"Some."

Harry drops his eyes to their joined hands, where he begins to rub his thumb across the inside of her wrist. Ruth feels a small shiver pass through her. Suddenly, merely holding hands with Harry is no longer enough. Ruth is ready ….. for more.