Hearing him continue to apologize was only making the wound on her heart that much wider. She shook her head, brows drawn down in concern, and offered him a small smile. "I know you are. Please believe that I don't blame you." Whether it was a good idea or not, Allie leaned forward and kissed Ollie's cheek. If the infection spread to her by having that contact, she'd accept that.
Allie knew she wouldn't be okay for a long, long time, but if it eased Ollie's mind to know that she would try to go on without him, she would do so to the best of her ability. Even if it meant sacrificing some of her sanity. As far as she knew, she was the last Andrada, and that was profoundly depressing.
Frankly, Ollie had no cause to be doubt whether she'd agree to do something for him or not. If he'd asked her to jump off a bridge, she would've done it. Such was their codependency.
Sing? He expected her to be able to sing at a time like this? Allie didn't know if she had it in her to do that. She'd sung times before when she was sad, but never when her grief had been this strong.
More tears squeezed out of her closed eyes, but she nodded. "I can't promise it'll be any good." But she'd try. Anything for Ollie.
What could she sing, though? What was appropriate? She'd never sung anyone to... to death before. Perhaps something that Ollie loved. Yes. Maybe that. She could manage that.
Taking a deep breath, that shuddered its way in and out, Allie began to sing, "There's a grief that can't be spoken. There's a pain goes on and on. Empty chairs at empty tables. Now my friends are dead and gone." A song of grief and loss, from her brother's favorite musical.