"Don't be sorry. You gotta get it out or you can't get better." She slowly, lovingly, combed her fingers through his hair. "Tony, I love you. You ain't ever gotta be sorry." At least not for this. Not for letting it out. If her being there, was all he needed she would stand there for a lifetime, stroking fingers through his hair.
"It'll be alright." She promised softly. If that was one thing she could do, was promise here he would be alright. She'd make sure of it.