After everything that happened this morning, James and I decided to have a quiet movie day whilst Sofia is with my Nonna. We thought it would be for the best if we could talk about this without her being here. And Nonna completely understood, when I explained that Evan was at the door she got just as angry as James did, if she was here when he was I'm sure she'd punch him right in the jaw.

So here we are, putting the conversation off for as long as possible, staring at the TV screen watching one of my favourite films, Moulin Rouge. I've always loved this film, because even though the ending is sad, I feel like it's such a feel good film. And the love story in it is just too amazing. But even though I've watched this movie hundreds of times, as a specific line is said, I rethink my whole situation.

It's funny how words can have such a big impact. Even if you've heard them millions of times before. "Do I dare ask what's going through your mind?" James asks, clearly indicating that I have a strange look on my face.

I smile as I respond, "it's just that line," I start, repeating the phrase that has just been said on the TV, "the greatest thing you will ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return." I lift my chin so that I can look him in the eyes, "he's right, there really is nothing greater."

I see a smile form on his lips, the smile that only I can give him. "You're right." He admits. But I can tell that something is wrong, something is holding him back.

So when he goes to talk, I interrupt him. "What's wrong?" I ask, and at first he looks confused, so I ask again. "Come on, I can tell when you're not feeling quite right. What is it?"

I can tell he's searching for a way to say whatever it is he wants to say, but he just can't find the right words. But eventually he responds. "It's him. Evan." I internally flinch at the name. When I was little I was told that sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. Up until now I thought that was true, the names I got called at school never impacted me at all; but his name, Evan, it sends shivers down my spine and makes my throat start burning just at the mention of it. It's strange, how much power the uttering of a name can have on you.

"You don't have to worry." I tell him, knowing I've come to a decision pretty quickly. "He's not seeing Sofia, I couldn't do that to her and honestly, I can't do it to myself."

"That's good." He reassures me. "It's good to be selfish sometimes." What he says makes sense, but I do still feel slightly sorry for Evan, knowing he has a daughter that he'll never be able to see. But I just don't care about how he feels right now. He abandoned his right to be part of this family the day of that party, there's no coming back from that. "What?" James questions, "what's going through your head right now?"

Clearly he can read me like a book, just as easily as I can read him. So I tell him the truth, "part of me thinks he deserves to meet her at least once." I admit, "but a bigger part of me thinks he deserves to suffer, knowing he has a daughter and never seeing her again."

"What he did was unforgivable, Vee." He reminds me, speaking clearly so that I absorb every single word. "You let him off lightly. If I'd have known who he was, he would have left in an ambulance."

"I know." I say with a small chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. "But he's gone now, and I can only hope that we never see him again."

"Me too." He agrees, placing his hand over mine so that our fingers intertwine. "I'm so sorry this happened to you." He whispers, and I can actually feel the pain in his voice.

"It's not me I'm worried about, it's Sofia." I tell him, "but the more I think about my little Neonata, the more I realise I'm doing the right thing by shutting him out." I look James in the eyes, "a daughter shouldn't have to beg her father for a relationship. And if I let him into our lives, she'd be wondering why she wasn't good enough for him to stay from the beginning. And I could never make her think she wasn't good enough."

He's just staring at me now. Maybe he doesn't know what to say, or maybe he has so much he wants to say that he doesn't know where to start. But I know him inside and out, and that look of his, I instantly know that he's in pain. "Vee," He starts with a compassionate voice, but trails off.

That's when I realise it. He's hurt because he knows that I'm hurt. It was those words, a daughter shouldn't have to beg her father for a relationship. He saw straight through me, and he knew instantly that I'm living with that pain. Not with my dad, but with my mum. For years I've been wishing every single day that I can have my mum back, the one I knew when I was little, not the broken version I have now. I feel bad for even thinking that, for suggesting that she's broken, but to me that's what it feels like. And just like a broken vase, you can never get the original, perfect version back. It's too late.