She's lying on the sofa, covered by a warm blanket with Fidget curled up by her side, Tom Barabas playing softly in the background, and the sound of Harry making tea coming from the kitchen. It's such a wonderful, comforting, domestic sound that she finds herself getting lost in a fantasy of the two of them living together, imagining that Harry brings her tea every night after dinner before they climb the stairs to bed together, until her daydreams are interrupted by the sound of him gently putting the tray down on the coffee table. She opens her eyes to find him smiling at her as he straightens up, saying, "Oh, good. You're awake. I thought I might have to carry you up to bed again and I'm not at all sure I could manage that a second time."

She blushes at his teasing remark and is tempted to make one of her own, but she can't quite bring herself to do so in the present circumstances. They've made huge progress by admitting their love for each other, but they're not out of the woods yet and still have many things left to sort out between them. So she just smiles, arching her back and stretching her arms up over her head before she sits up, disturbing Fidget who gives her an indignant look before jumping onto the armchair instead, turning his back on her, and proceeding to groom himself. "Sorry, Fidget," she says before turning her eyes on Harry again.

He's still standing by the coffee table, watching her, so she smiles and pats the spot beside her, and she's pleased to see the answering smile on his lips as he moves to take a seat next to her. His arm stretches along the back of the sofa, so she takes this as an invitation to lean against his side, resting her head on his shoulder as she wraps her arms around him. "I'm sorry about earlier," she whispers against his chest, feeling his arm wrap around her shoulders and squeeze her gently against him. "I really don't mean to keep falling apart on you like that," she adds, blushing at the memory of her earlier tears that she'd been unable to hold back when she'd heard him utter the words she'd been hoping to hear for so long.

"Don't be," he murmurs huskily. "You've been under a lot of strain lately, and besides, I've got good shoulders for crying on – broad, strong, and very well padded."

She laughs at that and lifts her face to look at him. "I've missed you so much, Harry," she says.

"And I you, my Ruth," he sighs, lifting his right hand to cup her cheek and caressing her cheekbone with his thumb as she leans into his touch. "Ruth," he murmurs softly, "I know it won't always be easy and there are many things we need to discuss and sort out between us, but if you want this... us, even half as much as I do, I know we can make it work and we can be very happy together."

She nods and smiles up at him, relieved and so happy to hear him say that. "I'm sorry I panicked and ran," she says. "It's a terrible habit I have when things get too much for me and I know I need to work on that if we're to make this work. I was scared because... I thought that perhaps you weren't all that serious about me, that your feelings weren't as... deep, as strong as mine. And if that were the case, I'd be risking everything on something that you weren't as invested in as I am and might end at any moment. I have all my eggs in one basket, so to speak, and if I'm honest, that still terrifies me a little." He watches her in silence for a few moments, and she feels her cheeks heat up under his scrutiny and she has to drop her gaze to her lap where her hands begin toying with the ends of the blanket. It isn't easy for her to be so open and honest about her feelings and fears, but she knows she has to try if they're to have any hope of surviving long term as a couple.

"I have loved deeply just five women in my life, Ruth," he replies eventually, pulling back a little so he can turn his body towards her and grasp her hands in his to still them. His touch is warm and brings her comfort even as his words make her heart race and her eyes lift to his. "One was my grandmother, one my mother, and one is my daughter, Catherine. I married the fourth, the mother of my children, Jane, and you are the fifth, Ruth." She feels tears spring to her eyes at his quiet declaration. There are so many degrees of love, as she well knows, and to be placed on such a short list alongside such important women in his life touches her so deeply that she's unable to speak for a long time.

He watches her, squeezing her hands with his own and offering her a small, almost smile and such an open, tender look that she can't help protesting, "Oh, Harry, I feel so terrible for what I've put you through," as she desperately blinks back the tears and drops her gaze from his.

"It's all right, Ruth," he smiles, squeezing her hands again.

"It's not all right, Harry," she objects, lifting her eyes to his again. "I got you to trust me and then I broke your heart. It's inexcusable and cruel. I don't know how you can forgive me."

"Well, I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't changed your mind about us," he murmurs, "but so long as you don't do it again..." he tails off, giving her a little, half smile again and a shrug of his shoulders that's such an adorable gesture, it makes her smile in spite of her guilt.

"I won't," she replies earnestly. "I promise, Harry."

"Even if it's all anyone can talk about at work for weeks on end?" he asks gently, and though she sees him try, he can't quite mask how invested he is in her answer.

"Even then," she murmurs, swallowing uncomfortably and dropping her gaze to their joined hands. "I mean, I'm not saying I'll enjoy it. I'll hate every moment of it, but if I ever reach a point where I can't stand it any more, I'd rather leave section D for a while than leave you again." She lifts her eyes to his and is amazed by the openness and emotion she sees in his gaze.

"Thank you," he whispers softly.

"I love you, Harry," she murmurs, surprised at how much easier it is to say it the second time round and wondering briefly if it'll soon seem like the easiest thing in the world to tell him.

They watch each other for what seems like hours, their eyes bright with emotion, until almost simultaneously, they gravitate towards each other and their lips meet in a soft, gentle kiss as they both try to convey the tenderness and depth of the love they feel for each other. And when she lies in bed alone, later that night, and thinks back on this kiss, the first of many they've shared tonight, she can't help smiling happily to herself as she absently lifts her fingers to touch her lips, feeling, knowing that her life is beginning anew and that the months and years ahead could bring her more joy, hope, happiness and fulfilment than she's ever known before.