He smiles, and she can't help smiling back. She can't put her finger on what's different about the way he looks at her, now; maybe it's the simplest difference, a man who's lost her versus a man who knows he's going to, both more fond of her than they want to admit. It should make this feel stranger-- sitting close, suspecting they used to sit a lot closer-- but the notion doesn't bother her; it just leaves her wondering yet again what happened, what changed.

"We can give it a try, at least." She shifts to get more comfortable, which brings her a little nearer. Or at least a little less far apart. Coming on too strong seems like it might be counterproductive, but getting a little closer seems, reliably, to relax him.