That seemed to concern him. He lay back in his chair, watching her carefully. "One," he admitted, combing his fingers through his hair. Only now did his façade seem to be slipping. "And that's something that can't be undone. From what I've been told, the only thing you can do is treat every good time as a middle finger to whoever, ah... hurt you." He sighed awkwardly and took a drag off his cigarette. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have pushed you to tell me if I knew beforehand."