He stands up straight, really looking at her, no longer avoiding her gaze. His hands are in his pockets, and he's neither tense nor relaxed, he's in that balance that comes in the moments when he decides to tell the perfect, absolute, sincere truth. When what he says has weight and meaning, to him, its not just a show, and it matters.

"I do, Astrid." And he's not just apologizing for leaving, that's secondary now, tertiary, so far away from the heart of things. He's apologizing for something greater, less definable, for what he's let grow between them, since her reconstruction.