"Thanks," Theodore mumbled awkwardly. He groaned inwardly - he too hated that their conversation had devolved to this. It was almost as bad as talking about the weather. He picked at invisible lint on the cuff of his jacket, wishing that he could figure out what to say to her. He was about to speak up again, when Daphne beat him to the punch. So, he finally looked up at her and listened, interested in hearing what she had to say.
His eyebrows knitted together when she mentioned dreading it and it needing to be perfect - he would've loved the dance even if it was flawed, which it wasn't. All of the emotion from the night, the look on Daphne's face, how hard it seemed for her to get the words out, and what happened earlier that week with the older woman he watched die in the hospital threatened to overwhelm him at the moment and he sighed, looking more exhausted than he ever had while he was in school.
He swallowed hard, too, and ran his hands over his face and into his hair, then sighed again. "You're being too hard on yourself, Daphne," he began quietly.
"I didn't give you a chance. A relationship takes work. And I didn't give you the chance to try to work things out with me. And for that, I'm truly sorry. I should've..."