His arms slipped around her frame, as they so often did. He liked holding her and being held in return by her. It brought him comfort and it was something he sought even more as their days began to become harder and harder. He wasn't willing to stop their efforts with the Leaky. He felt as if he only had their little pub to contribute the cause with, feeding those who needed it and giving supplies when they could. They had to keep it a float. Other wise, what were they doing?
When she spoke the only thing that circulated, as a coherent thought, through his mind was 'Oh.' His arms fell slack for the briefest of moments, not because he was disappointed or frightened by her words, but out of sheer shock. He pulled back enough so that he was able to look straight forward in her eyes. "That can't be, love," he said quietly. He knew it couldn't be. They had been so stressed with the worries of the pub and her father's health that he couldn't remember right off hand the last time he had made love to her. That in itself told him how long it had been. As he strained to think about it, he was certain. It couldn't be right. It had been months. If she was only showing signs now, then that had to have meant they would have slipped up more recently. They'd have known weeks ago if she was. "We haven't in ages," he then spoke, only so he could assure her he wasn't trying to argue her statement for the sake of arguing. He just didn't think the math added up. Did it?