He's sorry, Chloe. He really is a sweet guy. Don't be a bitch about this. And...

He's sorry, Chloe. He really is a sweet guy. Don't be a bitch about this. And don't screw it up. Just go over there. Give him a chance and, in no time, you'll forget everything else.
And that's exactly why I stayed in my chair. I didn't want to forget everything else, or the next thing I knew, he'd be back on that roof, putting his life in danger.
"You don't get to do this," I said finally.
"Do what?" He asked the question innocently enough, but his gaze dipped slightly. "I"m sorry. That's what I'm trying to say, Chloe. That I'm sorry."
"For what?"
He looked up, confused. "Making you mad."
I didn't answer, just got up to leave. I made it as far as the door. Then he was there, behind me, hand on my elbow. I didn't look back at him. I didn't dare. But I stopped and I listened.
"When I got mad about you leaving," he said, "it wasn't because I thought it was stupid or I didn't think you'd be careful."
"You were just worried about me."
An exhale, relieved that I understood. "Yeah."
I turned. "Because you think I'm worth it."
He put his fingers under my chin. "I absolutely think you're worth it."
"But you don't think you are."
His mouth opened. Shut.
"That's what this is about, Derek. You won't let us worry about you because you don't think you're worth it. But I do. I absolutely do.