Though she was hurt at first, anger flared in her eyes. “I thought we were past this, Sandor. I married you, bared your children, conceived the next…” her hand curled around her swollen belly. It made him want to reach out and do the same just so he could realize this was real. “I can’t lose you to yourself again.”
Tears pricked the back of his eyes as his fist curled. I can’t lose you to yourself again. He was so mad at himself.
“I‘m so sorry, little bird,” his voice was choked as he spoke her nickname. He looked toward her, his eyes boring into hers intensely before he pulled her down to his lap, as gently as he could so as not to hurt the babe in her belly.
Sansa immediately curled toward him, sitting comfortably in his large lap as she pulled his face down to hers for a kiss. Sandor tried to pull away, but she merely pressed her lips and body harder against him. He could have broken away from her being the stronger of the two, but the feel of her pressed up against him was his weakness. After she proved her point, she let him go and looked into his eyes. Her delicate fingers wove through his hair, stroking it soothingly. It calmed him as it always did. This time it managed to undo him though.
“You were so young,” he sobbed quietly, brokenly. “Minisa’s age when I did it.”
Sansa just looked at him in confusion, “Did what, love?”
“Blackwater,” he choked out.
That was the only word she needed to hear to understand. Recognition flitted across her face as her eyes went dark. She looked down at her hands and all he could focus on was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed steadily, too steadily.