[He doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn't respond for a long moment. Finally, he responds in some way, hesitating as he brings his hands out of his pockets, slowly lets them hover over hers, giving her ample time to pull back, flinch, whatever she wants to do. Still, he doesn't lift his gaze either, not until he begins to speak.]

I'm not sorry I saw it. I'm just sorry that I couldn't... do more. And I'm sorry that you... feel like you do about my seeing it. For what that's worth.