It's a complete cliché, but the words hit Maeve like she's been slapped and she rocks a little against Steve's thigh before turning suddenly and sitting up. Her book slides to the side and she barely notices as it falls off the couch and thumps to the carpet.

The idea of having children makes Maeve feel like her spine has been filled with ice, a sense of dread so heavy she actually feels a little panicky with it.

"I'm sorry, our what?" she asks.

A part of her had kind of expected this would happen eventually. She's seen Steve with kids, she knows how good he is with them, how much he likes spending time with them, and it's occurred to her before that he probably wants to have them eventually. He would make a good dad and she knows she would make a shit mum.