Meredith wants to say that she would hate her. If their roles were reversed, if Maeve were sitting here halfway in Sean's lap, his head on her shoulder, and Meredith were elsewhere, she would hate her. Except she can't say it, because it would hurt him, because it probably isn't true. She's not the wronged woman here, she's the interloper again. Being wronged would be easier. "Okay," she says slowly. "I'm not... I don't know what to do with that."