Before she tells him not to, he had been on the verge, in fact, of telling her that he's sorry. Recent experiences of personal loss and an upbringing of traditional values, indicated by the crucifix necklace draped over his bare chest, means he's a fan of those small rituals. His expression shades somewhat more somber; he averts his gaze for a moment in case she needs the privacy, busying himself arranging the empty shot glasses on his tray.

As she continues, he glances back up at her, sympathy written across his face.

"Yo, I get it. I'm divorced." He waves a hand in the air like, obviously. "It took me, like, a year to take the ring off. Guess I didn't want it to be real. Like, not just because I missed the relationship. I just missed who I was when I had an idea where my life was going, you know?"

He seems to realize that he might be oversharing and clears his throat. "Fucking crazy."