There is a particular kind of apology that makes things worse, and most of us have given it. It is fluent, it arrives quickly, and it is subtly about the apologiser — how bad they feel, how they did not intend it, how they are not the sort of person who does that. The other person is left comforting you about the thing you did to them.
Harriet Lerner's account of this is unsparing and useful: a real apology has no clause in it defending the person giving it. No 'but,' no 'I only,' no explanation of what you were dealing with that day. Those are all true, probably, and they all do the same job — they move the conversation from the injury to your reasons, and your reasons are not what is being discussed. The explanation can happen later, or never. It is not owed at the moment of repair.
The second thing that makes an apology land is naming the actual harm rather than the category. 'I'm sorry I was short with you' is a category. 'I'm sorry I cut you off in front of my brother and then acted like you were the one being difficult' is the thing that happened, and it tells your partner you have understood it, which is most of what they wanted. People forgive specifics far more readily than they forgive summaries, because a summary can be produced without having thought about it.
Then there is the part nobody enjoys, which is that you do not get to set the clock. The apology is not a transaction that completes on delivery; it may need repeating, and being asked about it again a week later is not a sign that it failed. Getting irritated at that point — 'I already apologised' — undoes it entirely, because it reveals the apology was a payment made to end a conversation.
Take one thing you have already said sorry for that clearly did not settle. Say it again this week with the specifics in it and nothing after the word sorry — no 'but,' no context. Then stop talking and let them have the next turn.
