He didn't say that he was sorry. Sorry should mean that he wouldn't have said what he did if he could do it over, that he hadn't meant what he said. What he was sorry for, was that she was hurting.

When she turned he pushed off from where he had been leaning, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of her. Softly he stroked the back of his knuckles over her cheek. "I love you, you know?" They would never see eye to eye on everything, but that didn't change the way he felt about her.