That is a familiar story, in part. Born too early, and though his mother had dearly wanted him, she hadn't been able to stick around. Left alone with a father too young, only to lose him well before either were ready (if one ever could be). It's no wonder she feels the way she does.

He holds her a little more closely, quiet for a long moment, letting her finish and allowing that quiet to linger. Sometimes there's peace to be found in silence and warm company, in the lull of mutual understanding and griefing empathy. To be understood and have those feelings recognized... he's come to appreciate that experience more than he can properly express through words.

Finally he murmurs, "I'm sorry." Because what else can be said to ease that kind of loss? He's not yet figured it out himself, so he can hardly offer her any answers.