It was time to leave and he held her coat in his hands, ready for her.
But after all these years, she still hadn’t figured out how to let anyone help her with her coat on and he still hadn’t figured out how to coax her into trusting him enough to do it.
Her arm flailed around behind her and he bobbed to catch it with the sleeve of her coat.
Eventually they managed – and she ran out of the bar into the busy street. He stood and watched, thinking that the scene had been like some horrible metaphor for their clumsy romance.