Lucy: "..."
She really didn't think Max Shaw was an outsider.
After several encounters, Lucy even felt he was meant for Eva Ronan.
Yet the person involved didn't think much of it.
Lucy couldn't say anything more and quietly had lunch, returning to the treatment center at two in the afternoon.
A fleeting moment, hard to alleviate the longing.
Lucy lingered in the car, unwilling to leave, chatting aimlessly with Henry Ronan, feeling unusually warm despite no particular focus.
Neither of them had loud and boisterous personalities; simply holding each other gave a sense of peace in the tranquility of time.
Eva Ronan didn't want to be the third wheel, standing outside the car smoking.
Through the corner of her eye, she could still see the embracing figures inside the car—jealous?
A little, but it's just a tiny bit.
Affections are irrational, no matter how envious she might be, she wouldn't allow herself to make the same mistake.
