"Don't be sorry," Elvis says, brows furrowing slightly. He hasn't the faintest idea what she might be apologizing for — they've already covered that his life sucks, after all, and this currently doesn't have anything to do with that — and there's nothing in the rest of it that should call for that, not that he's heard. It doesn't make him feel bad for her or pity her or sympathize with her or anything like that, not when he still has a pretty clear idea of her in his head, if one a little more three-dimensional than he originally assumed, but it does prompt something, a feeling he doesn't quite have a name for. "I don't say anything I don't mean. It's true. People just do that, they leave, and there's not a damn thing anyone else can do about it."