A/N: A drabble based on one the lovely and talented thematsaidwelcome wrote on her tumblr page.

Summary: Rick wasn't trying to destroy their relationship, but can Michonne really forgive and move on?


He gazed up at her, startled to see the visible heartache in her big, beautiful eyes, unshed tears now giving them a glassy sheen. She was actually serious. Shit.

"C'mon sweetheart," he said, softening his tone in an attempt to ease her anguish. "How can you be this mad about a cookie? I didn't know you liked Oreos. I've never even seen you eat one."

He beckoned for her to leave the threshold of their bathroom and come join him in bed. But she remained steadfast, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared back at him.

"I didn't want to eat it," she spat through gritted teeth. "But do you know who did? Your BABY! You took food out of your own child's mouth! How could you?"

She took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the magnitude of his carelessness. She soothed herself by rubbing slow circles over her swollen belly. She'd been thinking about that last snack box of Oreos all day. She could almost picture it on the top shelf of the pantry, hidden behind the cereal boxes, too far away to be reached by the grubby, greedy hands of the 2 cookie monsters she'd already brought into this world.

In her wildest dreams, she never imagined him capable of such treachery. Not him. Not the love of her life. Not the father of her children. She leaned against the doorframe, gripping it with her trembling hands as the shock of his betrayal threatened to bring her to her knees. Was it even possible for them to go on after this? If so, how? Moving past this seemed inconceivable.

As the ramifications of their dire situation overwhelmed her very being, the emotions she had been valiantly trying to keep at bay reached the tipping point. She found herself at the cliff's edge with no other choice but down. And so, she fell, releasing the floodgates and finally allowing the fat, salty tears that she had been holding hostage to break free and cascade down her cheeks.

Deep down, she knew she might have been overreacting a touch, but in that moment, looking across their bedroom to the bewildered, yet still smug look on his face, her sobs took on a life of their own.

"Why don't you want me to be happy?" she wailed, lifting the long sleeve of his old college sweatshirt – the only thing that fit her at this late stage of her pregnancy – and using it to wipe her nose.

He jumped out of bed, nearly tripping as he desperately tried to untangle himself from their comforter. He ran to her and pulled her into his embrace, clasping her to his chest like she was the only lifeboat on a sinking ship.

"It's gonna be ok, I promise," he whispered, rubbing calming patterns across her back. He pulled her more tightly towards himself, feeling each small reverberation as her sobs slowly morphed into hiccups.

"I'll run out to the gas station and get you some more. Won't take more than 5 minutes. I'm so sorry baby. I didn't mean to upset you. This won't happen again. You have my word."

She nodded slowly, looking up at him through long, tear-soaked eyelashes.

"I just hope we can get past this," she murmured, shaking her head as she dried her tears on his t-shirt. "I really do."