At the very least, she's speaking to him, which is more than he expected. Lee peels off his coat and drapes it over the back of the couch, expecting her to tell him to get the hell out. When it doesn't come, Lee cautiously takes a seat, frowning.

"I get that," he says, of her not feeling like talking, and knows he deserves it. She needed him to stay and he couldn't. And maybe Lee's still not sure he's prepared to deal with this, but he's sure that he's not going anywhere this time.

"You don't have to say anything. But I was hoping that maybe you'd listen?"