[If he keeps staring at the door he's going to punch a hole through it, and he doesn't exactly relish the idea of broken knuckles, so he turns back to face her and presses his shoulders against it instead.]

You weren't trying to make me admit anything? You pushed me into it right from the start! Oh, that poor reporter guy, guess you should be nice to him so everybody can fucking get along. Bullshit you weren't trying to box me into a corner about this. Why did you--

[oops god fuck he's crying now]

Why the fuck did you have to push me? It's not important, it doesn't mean jack shit about who I am and I can't--

[he had his opportunity to leave and didn't take it. now he just slides down the door until he's hugging his knees. Picture of misery, thy name is.]

I can't take it back.

[god only knows if he's talking about the fact that it happened in the first place or the fact that he's telling her about it now.]