She was his wife, but he -- still wanted to minimize his weaknesses, even in front of her. Perhaps especially in front of her, since he was the one who was supposed to be able to protect her from the inevitable threats that the rest of the world were going to unleash on their family if they ever found out about his role in the war.
"Not just for myself," He insisted, closing the space between them so that he could bring his hands -- ungloved, for emphasis' sake -- to rest on her shoulders firmly. "I'm not going to let anything get between me and my family again, Ophelia. I am aware that there have been complications in the past year, but I'm not going to lose you."
Or their daughter.
Or ... fine, his son.
It was his hope that the measured, deliberate movements were having their intended effect on her.
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