He doesn't expect her to agree, certainly doesn't think she'll drop what she's doing to put up with his bullshit so he's not even remotely ready to get back onto his feet even though the sounds in the kitchen suggest it might be in his better interests. He has to lever himself up slightly to even get a look over the back of the sofa; there's a pinch low in his back from it.

"My jacket's on the hook over there, darling." Diplomatic enough - he's doesn't dare push his luck now.