They both walked in clear-eyed. Harry doesn’t believe in love — not the way movies sell it. He finds it complicated, unreliable, hard to quantify. But he believes in commitment. In choosing a partner based on compatibility, respect, shared goals. He wants a wife. He wants structure. And she gets that. She’s not looking for fairy tales either — she wants stability, lifestyle, the kind of partnership that lets her build the life she envisions. They share values, taste, a sense of timing. They have chemistry, too — the attraction is undeniable, the sex is great.

They talk about everything plainly. Marriage is a merger, not a fairytale. But that doesn’t mean it lacks intimacy. There are quiet hand-holds under the table, thigh touches in the back of a town car, him remembering how she takes her tea, her knowing when he needs silence. They don’t need big declarations. They don't romanticize what they are. But they choose each other, deliberately.