If Mary knew that Johnny was putting pressure on himself to figure things out, she wouldn't have been happy. Not that she wanted to get hurt, but he needed time. She could respect that. They were falling into a weird sort of closeness, but she would rather just continue as they were and have him take the time he needed. Grieving wasn't something that could happen all at once and neither was moving forward. She would hesitate to call it moving on because she didn't believe that you ever really left the person you loved in the past. You just moved forward.
With Johnny, she didn't mind that he didn't have a whole heart to give to her. With her Johnny, he'd eventually given her a place in his heart and that was good enough for her.
She leaned in to him as they walked. She didn't bother to worry about how much of it was an act. It was nice, and there hadn't been enough 'nice' lately.
It was only once they'd let themselves in to the tiny basement apartment that she pulled away and looked around. From what she could see, there was one bedroom and the ugly furniture that had been described. She glanced over at him.
"Well, we'll have to take turns sleeping on the couch."
She didn't want him doing the chivalrous thing and letting her have the bed fulltime, and it was easier to have the conversation now than veering into the potential awkwardness at discussing bed arrangements right before it was time for sleep.