His grip tightening around the glass, Sean draws in on himself, pulling his knees up to his chest and telling himself it's only because it's warmer that way. "It is what it is," he echoes, trying to keep his voice as even as he can, since things letting things like hurt and anger slip out will only make this worse. He's been so consumed by his own grief, he hasn't let himself think about how hard this must be for her. Even now, he doesn't know if it will make much of a difference in how he feels.