She scrambles to hold the tray, because really the last thing she needs is for some sticky, gooey mess to make her week even better.

"I am fine, damnit! What, do you want me to curl up on my bed and bawl my eyes out? Is this why you brought me this stupid tea and this stupid toast, because you thought I needed to be consoled? I'm fine and I don't know why you want me to be not fine when in fact I'm... I'm..."

And then she bites her lip and turns her face away, as if ashamed of her tears. Great, thanks Wes.