George

She's talking but it isn't making much sense to me. It all seems like a blur. She used to work for MI5. British secret police. That much has gone in. No wonder she kept so many secrets. It had been a way of life for her for so long, she couldn't be open with me. Not that I truly think she wanted to confide in me. For her, it was easier to keep closed off.

"Why did you have to leave London?" I ask. It's not what I mean though. I mean why did she leave him? The looks they give each other tell me she wouldn't have gone if she'd felt she had a free choice about it.

"It's… complicated," she says, looking at her hands on the table. Looking anywhere but at me, and I feel another sting of betrayal. The least I deserve, the least she can do is look at me.

"I don't care," I say softly. "I'm sure it is complicated, but I deserve to know why and how you wandered into my life."

"I know you do," she says. "Just… understand that there are certain things I can't tell you. It'd be… dangerous to you."

"Ruth," I say. "Tell me. And would you please look at me." It takes a moment, but she does. Ruth is many things, but not a coward. She doesn't shy away from me.

"The short version is that someone in our section… our department was being set up for murder. When it came down to it, the person being blamed was either myself or… Harry." She pauses slightly before saying the name. His name, but I catch the hesitation. Why? Does she not want to talk about him with me? "It was very stressful at the time, and it was a gut instinct. I… It wasn't going away. Even Harry couldn't make this go away." She blushes, seeming to think that she's said too much. She doesn't need to be worried. I know how things stand. I can already see that she puts him on a pedestal, deserved or not, I'll never know. Probably not, I think unkindly.

"Anyway, I gave myself up for the crime. And we arranged it so my death was faked.

"You gave up your freedom for him," I say. It's obvious now I can see how deep the feelings go.

"It wasn't just one sided," she says. "It was more. And he'd never have allowed me to do it, had he known. They had him in prison for the murder at the time. I couldn't leave him there. He'd have taken the fall for me. I couldn't have that."

"If neither of you were guilty, it shouldn't have mattered that he was willing to take the blame," I say.

"He's more important than me," she says without thinking. "He was needed more than I was."

"For Gods sake, Ruth," I say. "Why? Why do you value him so much? Why are you even with me?"

"I'm sorry,"

"I don't want apologies, I want answers!" I'm close to losing my temper and I take a deep breath to try and stay calm. I never lose my temper.

"I sometimes hate myself," she says, surprising me. "How have I turned into this person? It's… he's a weakness of mine. I've known that for many years. I don't want to feel this way. All I've wanted for years is to be able to let him go." She looks at me despairingly and I believe her. She doesn't want to feel this way. Or maybe… she didn't. Now that she's seen him again, I'm not so sure. Her face is brighter than before. We're sitting in a squalid flat in grey and rainy London and she looks happier than she ever did in bright and beautiful Cyprus. I try not to let that hurt me. It does anyway.

"Obviously I couldn't stay in Britain, so I left," she continues.

"And bumped into me," I say. "Why me? You don't love me. You never did, so why me?"

"George," she says softly. I feel a lump in my throat at the way she says my name. That soft little word always sounds wonderful from her, and it's one of the reasons I fell in love with her. Sounds stupid, that, but it's true. It's certainly what attracted me to her. And her eyes. And her quiet intelligence which she never showed off. She just… was. I realise I'm now thinking of Ruth in the past tense. That says it all really. "George, I did love you. Not in the same way, but it's true. I care for you."

"Ruth… just don't."

"Why me?" I repeat. I don't know why I'm pushing this. It's over. I know that, but I just can't leave it alone.

"Because you're a good man," she said, smiling slightly. "You are a good kind honest man, who never asked for more from me than I could give. And we were happy."

"For a time," I have to agree. We were happy. Our relationship was uncomplicated. I can instantly see why she needed uncomplicated after Harry. Even after a few minutes. It was easy to be with her, and we slipped into a routine so beautifully simply.

"Ruth, I need to go home." I sigh heavily. There's no point going over this. I know she won't come back with me. Still, I can't resist adding, "Alone?"

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I never planned this. I don't mean to hurt you, but I can't leave him again. I'm so sorry."

"Ruth, just don't," I say. I force a smile at her. She doesn't want to hurt me, I know that. It hurts just the same though. "I need you to do one thing before you walk out of my life. Can you?"

"Of course. Anything."

More soon. :)