She moves to take a seat herself, though she opts for the more tradtional sitting on a chair. There are probably more elegant ways of putting this, and she could go for a long and rambling lead-up, but instead she just launches into it, drawing patterns on the wood grain of the table with a finger to distract herself.

"Well, Jim and I broke up." There, that's said. It still hurts a little, just saying it, like poking a fresh bruise. She meets Spike's eyes as she continues. "I don't know... what that means for us. But I think maybe I need... some time."

Time for it to not hurt anymore. Or hurt less, anyway.