Maeve Lane sighed softly.
She couldn't understand why things had turned out this way.
Looking at Henry Hughes, she felt like she was a criminal.
If Julian Fairchild's feelings for her originated from her actions, then with Henry Hughes, she never had any such intention.
Some people can become lovers, but some are destined to be friends.
Just like she once told Meredith, when the feeling is right, everything is right.
Her head ached with a familiar throb, and she instinctively reached for her pocket.
But unsurprisingly, she didn't find any medicine.
"You won't agree?" Henry Hughes seemed a bit flustered, and many girls were glaring at Maeve.
She lowered her eyelids, "Alright, let's be friends then."
Forget it, let them be.
"You only have one identity to me: from now on, we are just friends." Maeve reminded, "It's better if you think it through early."
Henry Hughes immediately smiled, "Okay!"
