He studies her face, trying to sort through his thoughts as carefully as possible before he says anything. He doesn't want to mess this up, he doesn't want to upset her or hurt her or say something that will make her not want to talk to him.

"Why..." A pause, to see if he's phrasing it properly in his own head, which doesn't mean that it's phrased right, but he's trying. "If you love the memories, why can't they be yours, no matter who put them there? Someone else isn't the one who has them. They don't own those memories. They're yours now."