Lena really, really, really hates when they fight. She can count on one hand the times they have fought seriously, in a genuinely concerning manner. In general, she can't bear when Lucky is upset at her even if he has every right to be upset at her. She lets things escalate and spiral out of control, or maybe that's just her own doing because she's good at the spiraling thing. She really did believe she had it all under control and it was a lot less serious than it turned out to be. The butterfly bandage over her forehead covering a nasty bruise and cut would love to tell her differently.
For once, she is not hounding Lucky as she has been consistently over the past few weeks. The silence after the apology, while it hurt, was also fair, and she should give him some space. She's slipping into her leather jacket and stepping in, in search of Sonny, since he's always at the Crowbar and she knows he's not mad at her.
She bites on her lip, slipping her hands into her pockets and leaning against the jukebox. "I didn't ... know you'd be here," she says. Or rather, she didn't know he'd be doing clean up, but it makes sense, as he likely needed space before he went over to their apartment. If he even went there instead of just sleeping over here to avoid her, which would probably serve her right. "I can ... leave."