Jon glowered across the festive table to where Sansa sat, the large diamond glittering brightly where it sat on her ring finger. Her head lay affectionately on the shoulder of her betrothed and unhappiness sat in Jon’s stomach like a lump of lead.
That should’ve have been him with Sansa, his ring decorating her hand.
The blue Tiffany box still sat in his bedside table drawer, a stark reminder of all he had lost when Sansa had broken up with him, declaring that she could no longer sneak around with Jon; that lying to her family was slowly killing her.
Little had she known, but the very same day she had broken up with him, Jon had planned to speak to Ned about asking Sansa to marry him. However, he hadn’t gotten the chance as news of Robb’s accident broke up Christmas at the Stark cabin, and later, with eyes red and swollen from her tears, Sansa had ended it.
She had refused to listen to his pleas, his avowals of love and how he wanted to tell her family. She wanted a clean break, something that would not rock the Stark boat after Robb’s death, which a relationship with Jon would do.
Now, she sat with another man’s ring on her finger, glowing with happiness and all he could do was stare from afar. His heart tattered and broken.