"I don't think anything is going to make me feel better," though there's something more certain in his voice, something just a little more relaxed. "But at least I won't be the only one who feels miserable at the thought of it."

Which sounds cruel on its own - and might well sound just as cruel after he's explained himself - but he's lifted his hands as if to gesture, and something in his expression has sharpened. If he's irredeemably an arsehole, she'll at least understand precisely where he's coming from, because he intends to explain himself.

"If neither of us are happy about this, and there's no situation where one of us will be fine with...oh, everything about what we've been forced into...then I think we can do anything we want." It's the sort of logic he'd disdain sober, but there's a clarity of purpose to him right now, and he can't find a single argument against it. "There is no winning option. We could bar the door against your brother and ruin this couch, or I could get up and leave right now - and either way, we'll still both be pissed off and jealous about the entire situation. If each choice is equally bad, then they're also equally good."

Or, in other words, with a deep inhale: "I think we should bang it out."