She shook her head when he asked the question back on her, although she knew she could do with some wine right now. But she didn't want to, she wanted to talk to him properly and she couldn't if she was relying on the wine to see her through it. Cleaing her throat once again, since her throat kept tightening with unshed tears, she looked down and tried to contain her thoughts.
She wanted to run and hide, never face those awful things she had done. It wasn't her personal choice but she still couldn't shake the feeling that it was all her fault, that she didn't deserve even the chance to talk to him. But she had to stay and she had to say something rather than staying in this awkward silence.
"You're allowed to hate me," she said quietly. "I know I would."