Meredith's only so patient and even after he apologizes, her fingers rest twisted and tense in the hem of her shirt. It's harder now to pretend this is just another bad mood, something she can help him shake off and move past in due time, but it's nothing new either, not the actual fact of it. The way he says it, though, his voice and the actual phrasing, leaves her increasingly uneasy, heat rising along the back of her neck.

"Sean," she says, and then doesn't know what to follow it with. No matter what he says about how he feels for her or how bad she feels for it, it's still hard to hear him talk about Maeve, but at least she's learned better than to admit to it. "Don't... It's a big deal, I know. I know." She can't tell him again not to blame himself or say it wasn't his fault; there's no point when she knows she won't change his mind, when he's already snapping at her and making the same guilty part of her that hates talk of his wife wish that she'd gone back to bed after all.