I wince. I’ve been open with Grey about my expectations and needs since the day I told him I was pregnant. But I definitely should’ve been much better about communicating what I meant, exactly, when I said I needed him to be a real co-parent. I should’ve talked to him more about it after that first conversation we had when I told him I was pregnant.

I just assumed he’d know that meant showing up and helping out with the big stuff and the small stuff. The fun things and the tedious things, too.

I assumed he’d get it right on the first try.

Both bad—not to mention unfair—assumptions.

He also clearly put a lot of time and thought into his house search, however misguided it might have been. Even though he did it in the wrong way, he is taking his co-parent duties seriously. He does have a plan for us. He is thinking about our future.

He’s been doing the work. It’s just the wrong kind of work.

“Although I have to say I’m proud of the fact that Monty and I were able to be ourselves in our relationship while still being open—and willing—to change in order to be what the other needed,” Eliza continues. “To make our relationship and our family work. He never asked me to change who I was deep down, or what I wanted. But he did ask me to work on my patience because I’d hurt him when I snapped. I asked him to help me more in the kitchen, because meal planning, grocery shopping, and cooking for four people seven days a week was a full time job, and I already had one of those.”

Nodding, I swallow. Hard.

“That’s exactly what I want for Grey and I—the ability to be ourselves while still being willing to change to make our relationship work. But Grey just has these deeply entrenched beliefs that I’m not sure he’s willing to budge on. He wants to contribute. Wants to give our family what he believes we want and need. ‘The best of the best’ as he says. But I need something different. We need him to be there, Eliza. I need him to be around more.”

Eliza takes a bite of salad. Chews thoughtfully for a moment.

“I hope there’s a way for y’all to compromise. A way for you to meet halfway, so Grey can scratch that itch of his to do the best of the best thing and still be around the way you’d like him to be. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Grey means well. That’s as much a part of him as his drive.”

Yes, I think to myself. And I need to acknowledge that. I need to give that part of him space to thrive, because it is a good thing.

I just don’t know how.

“I hope we can get there,” I say, tearing up again. “I just don’t know how.”

She reaches across the table and puts a hand over mine.