She smiles wryly, huffing out a short, dry laugh at the statement. Guerin. It's like an art form or a style that only one man in the world had perfected. Both infuriating and intriguing, alluring all at the same time.

"Yeah, even so."

But at the question, how Alex picks up on her tense change, Maria picks up her glass again and sips. Her gaze notably wanders.

"I ended things. Just..." She waves a hand, a slight movement, dismissive. "He didn't do anything. Nothing at all. There was not fault involved. Just that." Another sip, then she cradles the cup between her hands, on her lap, and keeps her gaze down there for a moment.

"He had made me so happy. And I'm pretty damn sure that I made him happy. But I was also pretty sure that someone else could make him happier."