[He wants to say that he's sorry that it happened, he's sorry she feels that way, felt that way. To tell her it's not her fault. But...]

[But something in her tone, in her face, keeps him from speaking it. For once, he's quiet. For once he lets himself think over these answers before saying anything at all. His hand moves, across the table to rest near her.]

It hurt.

[Might as well be honest with her. If she's giving the same.]

Thank you, Ana. For telling me these things. [He lifts his eye from where he'd been studying the table.] It hurt. I am... disappointed we have broken like this. All of us.

[And then he blows out a breath, shaking his head.]

I am very tired of being angry with my friends, Ana.