He mirrors her gesture. Cupping her cheek and stroking the tear away with his thumb. He lets her finish speaking, but he shakes his head once and then moves his hand to place a finger to her lips.

"Not like that. Don't say it simply because I have. Some day, you'll understand how right your words are. And only then should you decide if I am forgiven or not."

And perhaps she can tell he's no longer talking about monoliths or stars. There is a deeply painful story sitting there, just under the surface. And maybe, just a bit of his carefully held mask slips and she might be able to see that he feels he deserves all of the words she spoke.

He slowly lowers his finger from her lips and moves to stand, intending to return to his seat.