The yelling was actually just as reassuring to her as it was relieving to him, because she'd be more concerned if he didn't even have the energy to do even that. It felt comfortingly familiar, and she could almost fool herself into thinking maybe nothing had actually changed between them. But she knew better. "I know I can't fix what I did," she relented, taking another bite of the soup because he was so set against it. She planned on leaving the pot there anyway and it contained enough for at least a few days. Even if he wasn't in the mood to reheat it, the stew should still be somewhat decent even when it went cold.
"And I have no plans to make it up to you, or to ask for the forgiveness I don't deserve." It wasn't that she wasn't willing if he had asked, but she sincerely doubted there was anything she could do when the damage was irreversibly done. She wanted to help because it was her responsibility to do so and she doubted he'd seek it elsewhere, not because she thought somehow it would make things better. "I know I'm probably the last person you want to... see right now... ever, but I'm the only person that cares enough about you. I don't care if you don't like it, but I do care that you don't die."
But she couldn't force him to eat, and it probably wouldn't be a good idea to come toward his face with another piece of cutlery, even if it was just a spoon this time. Setting the bowl down near his feet if he changed his mind, she hesitated for a brief moment in case he felt like kicking her.