In the story it could all end at the resolution. It could stop at the moment where they come together, mutual understanding. Making good a bad note held too long. In the story they could find themselves in bed together, one chance to salvage a little of their self respect. Knowing that this unrepeatable kiss would sustain them for a while. Knowing that the clamour of fighting can be drowned out by the muffled grunt of a single orgasm. In the story there can be a neat ending, but life has no neat endings, not unless you choose the moment and walk away from it, tying the thing in a knot.
I watch Disgrace and I see the ending followed by a lack of resolution. A drawing out of the resolution. What might be neat is followed by a limping string of events that serve to muddy things again.
In my story they do not walk away from each other at the moment of resolution. They choose to stay, and so the muffled orgasm will be followed by more fighting and more fighting without the relief of sex to clear the decks once more. Their timing will be perpetually out, a toy bird ducking its head to drink the water then stuttering into a graceless fall and bob and nod. Forever if you let it drink and fall away again. The pattern can not be broken unless someone steps in to remove the glass or, better yet, the bird.