There's a moment of just mildly judgmental silence.

"Rosie, you don't have to get things ready for me," he tells her gently. "You're sick. I can start cleaning up around this place and get things ready for myself. Maybe see what I can make for you to choke down."

Also, like, he'll be real - Rosie needs the clean-up help, bless her soul. He'd caught glimpses of her messiness (not just the personal kind) back in the sim, and she doesn't even have boyfriends here to keep shit together for her. Maybe she can have somewhere clean and nice for when she finally feels a bit better. Less things to worry about or dig around for.

"Beside... The guys will understand. There's always some stew or another heating up over the fire back home, so I know they won't starve, either. There's no reason I need to leave."