She could laugh at being called a lady, she could laugh about him being along for the ride when she made it a hard one, but most of all she's caught by the momentary urge to look away –– how embarrassing to be loved in all sincerity, and to want to run with it and never let it go.

But it is true, and she digs deep in her heart to take it for what it is. It brushes up against her own feeling that this man may not have been the partner she chose, but nonetheless has come to mean more to her than anyone. How miserable it would be to be a person who shied away from that, or in another timeline, even killed him herself. She really could have, all those months ago, buried in her own sense of entitlement towards the world. That all feels distant now. Ancient history.

Tess laces her fingers with his, matching his grip. Lets herself smile genuinely.

"I love you too, Arthur." Even fonder, her favourite pet name: "Outlaw."