Herbalists' Cache we are a hurricane; drop our anchors in a storm

He swallowed hard under Aditya's cold stare, his own gaze flitting to the ground and heating with the beginnings of tears. Cursing himself internally, he blinked a few times to clear the moisture. He didn't dare look back up. About an alliance, He muttered, unable to keep the resentment from his tone.
It made more sense when he heard the explanation. He sucked in a breath at that; separation wasn't a thing that had happened often in Alarian's experiences. As far as he knew, it was typically 'til-death-do-we-part', for better or worse— often worse, he'd found. Haha, fuck marriage. Anyway.
I'm sorry, He said after several beats, and paused again, uncertain; his gaze was still firmly on the ground. Aditya deserved better than 'I'm sorry', but he couldn't— I hope— that you never go through that again. I hope once it stops hurting, things get better. I'm— I'm sorry I contributed to that mess...

Again, he swallowed, throat aching now. I should— go. This was a bad idea. I'm sorry. He turned to leave, realizing he could only cause more damage here. As much as he wanted to stay, to try to comfort him— it was a bad idea. Surely Aditya didn't want him around, a reminder of the events leading to his relationship's demise.