Sorry for the delay! I hope you all like it though, now its finally up.
That evening they were both curled up in the sofa watching the TV when Ruth failed to stifle a yawn. "You should get to bed," he said, switching the television off.
"I've had so much sleep recently I feel like an old woman," Ruth complained.
"I seem to remember that I know how to make you feel like you're not," Harry said with a cheeky smile and a growl in his voice. She laughed, squeezing his hand.
"Can you come up to bed with me?"
"I wasn't serious Ruth," he said quickly backtracking. "I know you need your rest."
"Harry, I'd just like you to hold me," she said. "That's all. If you don't mind?"
"Of course not," he said. "I'd love to." She smiled and got up, both of them heading to her bedroom. Settling in her bed, Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, always mindful of her injury. She closed her eyes, still smiling and a strand of hair fluttered over her face. Harry carefully moved it back.
"I've always loved your hair," he said. "I always imagined running my hands through it when we were at work." He proceeded to do just that as her eyes opened, watching him.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"My dads dead isn't he?"
"Do you remember?"
"I remember coming home from school," she said slowly. "My mum told me… that he'd died. That's all I have."
"I can't say for sure, but I know your father did die. You were eleven, so that's probably a real memory."
"Hmm," Ruth said to herself sadly. "Oh that's nice," she added as his hand started stroking her back repeatedly, his thumb going round in soothing circles. She moved forward and kissed him softly, not a kiss of passion, just a reassuring embrace which he returned. "Goodnight Harry."
"Goodnight Ruth," he said, kissing her once more before she turned over and went to sleep.
Harry woke up first and smiled, seeing Ruth still in his arms. He loved this and wanted to treasure every moment possible. It had been far too many years in the making. He pulled her close and gave her body a slight squeeze. He felt his heart drop as she woke up in his arms. He hadn't meant to wake her.
"Sorry," he whispered as her eyes fluttered open. "Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to disturb you."
"Harry?" she said, her face freezing. "Oh my God. It's… it's all there."
"Your memory?" Harry asked quickly. "Really?"
"Yeah," she said sitting up. "Oh my God." She smiled. "It really is there."
"That is incredibly good news," he said smiling.
"Well, almost all of it, I should say."
"What's missing?" he said.
"When Sasha stabbed me," she said. "I can remember him coming at me, but I can't seem to remember how it felt when he tried to kill me or what happened after that."
"But, everything else?" he questioned eagerly.
"Yeah," she said slightly breathlessly, her eyes wide with wonder. "Oh I'm so glad. I have everything again!"
"Do you remember what happened since you woke up in hospital?" he asked.
"Every detail," she said, her eyes burning into his, very seriously.
"I'm so sorry," he said instantly. "I should never have done that. God, how could you ever forgive me."
"Slow down," Ruth said, her hand on his arm, trying to stop him from rushing on and making her head spin. "What are you talking about?"
"I shouldn't have slept with you," he said shaking his head. "I knew I shouldn't have at the time. I couldn't help myself."
"Harry, are you under the impression that I'm… upset with you?" His silence was as good as confirmation. "I'm not," she said. "I can now appreciate how long it took to get there, that's the only difference now I can remember."
"You're really fine with it?" he asked, squeezing her hand in spite of himself.
"Harry, yesterday I thought that it was the best moment of my life, even with a bad memory," she said. "With everything else now coming back to me, I still think its one of the best moments of my life. I hope you don't regret it, because I certainly don't."
"No," he said quickly and earnestly. "I promise you, I do not regret it."
"Good." She smiled and leaned back in bed, her eyes open as she relieved everything now filling her mind. "What happened after Sasha stabbed me?"
"You collapsed," Harry said, holding her close. "You told me you couldn't breathe and I tried to keep you talking. You told me about the house you'd bought for us. The green front door that you didn't want to change. I told you we'd have a life together. Then you stopped breathing. You died in my arms. But we got you back. Here you are."
"I'm sorry for asking," she said. "I can see from your face its painful."
"Very," he said. "You needed to know though." They lapsed into silence and Harry had to bring up something which had been bothering him, now she had her memory back. "I need to ask. Do you blame me for George? And Elena?"
"George was never your fault," she said slowly. "I never blamed you. Well, only for a couple of days when I was angry and upset. You couldn't have done anything to stop it. Elena… It isn't that you slept with her, or had an ongoing relationship with a Russian. It worries me that you had a long affair while you were married. That does… concern me, Harry. I don't like that you hid it from me, but I got over that. You were ashamed, you told me that and I understand it, even though I don't like it. If we ever got married, or even just had a relationship how could I know that you wouldn't do it again?"
"Because I hope you can trust me," Harry said.
"I do," she said. "Did your first wife say the same?"
"It sounds like you want to get married," he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
"I'm not hinting at that, and don't try to change the subject."
Harry sighed and made sure he was holding her hand before he continued. "I was never in love with Elena," he said. "She was exotic and beautiful. I needed an asset inside the Russian embassy and I had her marked as my way in. I was foolish to continue a relationship with her, but I was young and stupid. I'm not trying to make excuses, its just the way it was. I cheated on my wife a lot and I regret it. I'd never cheat on you."
"I know you say that now…"
"I mean it," he said. "Before the other morning, I hadn't slept with a woman in eight years. I only want you. I don't want anyone else, and I never will."
She smiled, feeling that he genuinely meant it and kissed him. His hands went around her waist, tightening his grip. He always had a fear of letting her go, meaning he always kept hold of her. "Harry?"
"Mm," he whispered interrupting the conversation for another kiss.
"I love you." She didn't feel as scared as she thought she would by saying those words to him. He kissed her passionately and deeply, making her breathless.
"I love you too," he whispered. "Always have. I just didn't want to tell you when you couldn't remember."
"Fair enough," she said. "Oh!" she moaned as his hand had drifted down to deliciously inappropriate places. "Can we spend the rest of the day in bed?"
"When you ask me that, would I ever say no?"