What if you end up doing it on your own? Have you thought about that

of course I have! I'm an adult. I can do it if I have to

I know I just worry about you

If Mum and Dad were around it would be different

it won't come to that anyway

you don't know him, even if we live separately he'll always be around

and his parents were a bit O_O at first but they're lovely people

it'll be fine

and you'll be back in a couple of months

I'll still be travelling a lot

I know I know

I'm a grown up, Elsa, I can look after a baby, thousands of women do it, millions

and once you meet your nephew you'll be dying to babysit him alllll the time

Will I now

Anna you know I'll help you any way I can x

I know xxx

you know part of me wishes I hadn't told you and just met you at the airport 8mos gone

it would've been HILARIOUS

You have a very odd sense of humour sometimes

"A thousand baby names? Are there that many?"

Anna glanced at the cover of her book, then turned back to the page she was on. "I guess? Only half of them are any use, anyway. And some of them are a bit weird."

"The ultrasound lady might have been wrong."

"She sounded pretty sure. Thank you," as Kristoff put a cup of tea on the table beside her.

"What were you thinking?" he said, sitting on the armchair.

"I don't know….I like Arthur as a middle name, that was my dad's name."

"Sounds good."

"So do you need something else traditional at the front? Or does it not matter?"

"I don't know, I - hang on, hold that thought," he said as the doorbell rang. Anna laughed and started pushing herself up from the sofa, but Kristoff waved her back down and went to the door.

It was Maria.

He hadn't actually spoken to her, in person, since he'd told her about the baby. There had been a flurry of text messages a couple of weeks later, about how she needed Space and Time; then nothing. Seeing her now was a shock, and he couldn't tell if it was a good one or not.

"Can we talk? In your room or somewhere?"

Kristoff glanced back at the living room door. "Uh, sure."

She followed him through to his room, and sat on the bed while he shut the door behind them.

"How's Anna?" she said.

"Fine."

"Everything - going well?"

"Yes, sure. Great."

"Good."

Kristoff leant against the closed door and waited for her to speak again. When she didn't, he said "I should have called you before now. I didn't realise it had been so long."

"Nearly three months," Maria said. "Bet you thought I'd forgotten about you." She went quiet again, then patted the bed next to her. Kristoff sat down.

"I talked to a lot of people," she said, "Like, all my friends…and a lot of them said I'd be crazy to give you another chance. And I thought they were right. But I couldn't stop thinking about you, Kris. I didn't realise how much I would miss you, miss just knowing you were there." She looked at him through her eyelashes.

"I missed you, too," he said, automatically.

Maria nodded. "I'm willing to try again," she said, "but I need something from you, Kris. If I'm going to trust you again...I can't have you living here with her. I don't think that's unreasonable."

Kristoff didn't know how to reply, but that was okay because Maria was still talking.

"And I know, I know she's having your kid and you'll need to pay for it and see it at weekends sometimes and stuff. I know that. I mean, obviously I'm not happy about it, but I understand."

"Him."

"What?"

"Not it. Him. The baby's a boy."

"Whatever." She waited, but he could tell she was getting restless. "So?" she said after a minute.

He looked up at her and it was like looking at a stranger. Maybe it was just because they hadn't spoken in so long. Or maybe he'd never known her, not properly. And something appeared in his head, from a long time ago now - What is it you want?

"I want to live here," he said quietly. "I want to see my son every day, not for a few hours on a Saturday afternoon. I want to live here with him."

"And with Anna."

"I guess so, yeah."

Maria sighed. "So you and her..."

"It's not that. It's all complicated...we're good friends, we get along living together fine. We're both going to stay here as long as it keeps working. Beyond that, I don't know. I don't think she does either."

"As long as it keeps working? So you'd move out if she asked you to?"

"Well, yeah."

"But you won't do it for me."

Maria was looking at him, jaw set. She wants an argument, he thought. She wants a row, which I'll let her win, and then she'll kiss me and then we'll have sex and then...

He didn't have the energy. For any of it. He was tired, so tired of going round in these circles. He hadn't realised how - how content he'd been, just living his life, going to work, seeing his friends. Living with Anna.

Anna could hear their voices, but not what they were saying. She fought the temptation to go out into the hall and eavesdrop. No, she was going to sit here, and drink her tea, and look at her book. David? Thomas? Jacob?

She'd been so selfish. Just because she'd been lonely; if she'd left him alone in the first place this would never have happened. Just because she'd wanted to have a baby; even if this was all an accident, she'd still ended up with something she'd always wanted. She'd made what she felt was the best decision for her, without really thinking about how that affected other people.

If Kristoff wanted to have long-running on-again-off-again relationships then that was up to him. She had no right to feel this level of rage just because that woman had turned up. She'd messed up his life enough.

The front door opened and shut. And then Kristoff walked into the living room and sat back down in the armchair. He put his hand on his cold cup of tea and pulled a face. Anna watched him.

"Sunk cost fallacy," he said after a moment.

"What?"

"When you've put a lot of resources into something, your brain wants you to keep going. Like a gambler who wants to play until they win back all the money they've lost. Your brain thinks if you put in enough time and energy, it'll pay off." He picked up the cup and went into the kitchen. She heard the microwave beeping.

"I'm sorry," she said when he came back through. "You don't have to live here with me if you don't want to any more. This was my decision, and I can't expect other people to shoulder the consequences."

Kristoff's brow wrinkled. "Could you hear us talking?"

"No?" Despite her words, her heart sank. "Are you moving out?"

"Maria wanted me to. She was prepared to take me back, if I moved out. And probably spent the rest of my life grovelling. And saw the baby only on sufferance." He smiled, but there was no humour in it. "But I remembered what you said once before. What do I want? I don't know. But I know I don't want that."

"Kristoff…"

He drank his tea. "I thought she'd start shouting," he said, "But she didn't. I think she was expecting it."

"And she left?"

"Mmm."

Anna sighed and leant back against the sofa cushions.

"It was weird," Kristoff said. "It was weird to be the one saying no."

"It's like they say, isn't it?" Anna said. "The one who cares least has all the power."

"I've never thought about it like that before."

"Well, it's true."

Anna picked up her book and fiddled with it. She wanted to tell him how wonderfully, gloriously happy she was that he had sent Maria away; she wanted to tell him how happy, how much more himself he'd been in the last month or two without her. But if she did she might accidentally tell him other things and everything was complicated enough anyway.

Who knew what was hormones, and what was his smile, and what was proximity, and what was her fundamental belief in happy endings. Who knew what, on his part, was obligation, and what was good manners, and what was genuine affection. Best not to say anything.