Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. If I did, Season 13 would be a hell of a lot better.

This chapter combines what would have been two chapters in my original outline and adds a third, unexpected scene. There are actually only three chapters left in this story plus an epilogue, and they are all things I think you've been wanting for a very long time.

Thanks to Sara and Mallory for helping me with this!

Chapter 21

"Truthfully, I'm not desperate; I haven't changed my mind since we first met, but the last thing that I want to do is to tell you that I'm right for you." Truthfully by Lisa Loeb

After three days in the hospital I was starting to lose my mind. There were three nurses per day and three nurses' assistants, and they didn't work every day so there would be new ones every so often. And each one of them who walked into the room gave me different advice. How often the baby should eat, how much the baby should eat, I should be walking around, I was overdoing it… I was pretty sure I didn't have anything figured out but I knew I wouldn't be able to change that until I got out of the hospital of conflicting advice and had to rely on my own knowledge and gut instinct.

To my immense relief, my obstetrician cleared me to go home that day, rather than waiting one more, and Grace's pediatrician did the same. After a longer than necessary wait for the official discharge, an orderly pushed me downstairs in a wheelchair as I held Grace in my arms, while Eli went to retrieve his car from the parking garage. I had changed her into the outfit I had bought specifically for bringing her home from the hospital – the only outfit I had actually purchased myself since I had gotten so much clothing at my shower and still wasn't entirely sure what I would need. The pink and brown pants and shirt were so tiny but even though it was newborn sized the matching jacket seemed enormous on her.

Eli pulled up outside and took the baby from me so I could hoist myself out of the wheelchair with a groan. "Say goodbye to the hospital, Gracie," he cooed, as he lifted her into the car seat.

She'd been napping on my lap but as soon as she settled into the car seat, she woke with a start and began to wail. Eli fumbled with the straps, trying to get her into the right position and buckled in safely for the very first time. He snapped the seat into the base and she continued to cry. He looked at me as if I had the answer.

I shrugged. "I guess I'll sit in back."

I spent the ride wiggling her toes and fingers and singing her the few nursery rhymes I could remember from childhood but nothing seemed to help. Her face was bright red from crying, and I had to try hard not to do the same. Every bump Eli hit felt like it went straight to my stomach and I was rapidly developing a headache from Grace's screams.

Thankfully the hospital wasn't too far from my apartment and Eli found an open visitors' parking spot in the lot. He came around to help me climb out of the car and grabbed the carrier in one hand and my bag in the other. Even with all he was carrying he was still able to walk faster than me as I waddled behind him, holding my stomach. "You're swinging her too much," I complained.

He laughed. "I'm carrying 7 pounds of baby and 15 pounds of carrier in one hand. There's no preventing this." It seemed that Gracie didn't mind either; she had finally stopped crying. I had read articles about helping babies sleep that had recommended using a swing and I wondered if Grace's contented response to Eli's rather jerky motions meant she might be a baby who enjoyed that.

Of course when we arrived at my apartment, I remembered there was literally no place to put a baby swing even if she did.

Eli lifted her gently from the car seat and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before lying her down in the bassinette attachment on the pack and play that he'd set up while I labored. I had decided against putting together the crib as I'd have to find a new apartment before the baby really needed it, although I had gotten my landlord to extend my current lease for an extra month to give me a little more time to search. I was afraid that Grace would start crying again –she'd been upset about 50% of the time when we'd put her back in the bassinette at the hospital –but she just turned her head to the side and closed her eyes without a sound.

"Soo…" Eli said, looking uncomfortable for the first time since Grace's birth. "Is there anything I can get you? Something to eat or…anything?"

"I think I'm okay," I said softly. "Helen filled the freezer with stuff I can heat up easily and I'm not that hungry at the moment."

"Oh okay," he said, a bit reluctantly. "So I guess I should…go?"

It was a question, not a statement, but I wasn't sure I had an answer for him. There was no reason for him to stay, but after three intense days together, I knew for certain I didn't want him to leave.

"I guess so…?" My response was every bit as hesitant as his question but he seemed not to pick up on it.

"Okay well…" Eli looked toward the door but didn't move. "Can I come back tomorrow and see her?"

We hadn't actually determined a start date for our custody plan and while both of us were off work for parental leave our complicated system of pick-ups and drop offs wasn't exactly necessary anyway. But when the lactation consultant recommended not offering a bottle for at least six weeks, particularly since Grace was having some trouble latching on, Eli had suggested that it would be best for her to stay with me during the adjustment period. He had said it matter-of-factly at the time and I could tell that it hadn't really hit him until the moment how much he was giving up.

"Of course," I said emphatically. "You can come anytime, Eli."

He nodded, a sad smile in his eyes. But his hand hadn't quite reached the doorknob when Grace's short-lived slumber ended with a shriek. I glanced at the clock. "She's probably hungry," I said. It had been two and a half hours since I'd last started feeding her so she was pretty much right on schedule.

It would have been easy for Eli to walk out the door, but instead he scooped up the crying baby. "Let me change her for you," he said. "Why don't you get comfortable and I'll bring her over as soon as she's ready?"

I shot him a grateful look, as I hurried to set up my bed. I had found it difficult to find a comfortable position in the hospital and that was with an adjustable bed. I grabbed a few extra pillows before climbing up with a whole lot of pain and a great deal of difficulty. I'd always been short and getting into bed on a day to day basis wasn't exactly my most graceful maneuver; now it was nearly impossible.

Eli held her until I was ready, then kindly averted his eyes while I unsnapped my nursing tank and attempted to latch Grace on. I was so focused on her that I nearly jumped when I heard a loud noise, not realizing it was just Eli filling a glass with ice from the refrigerator door. He set the glass of water that I really needed but hadn't asked for on the nightstand next to my bed, then reached out and gave Grace's ankle a gentle squeeze. He didn't say anything but it felt like a goodbye gesture.

"You can stay if you want," I said quickly. He searched my face without giving away his own feelings. "I could really use a nap after this - I'm exhausted," I explained, "and she might not let me put her down."

Eli laughed and moved around the bed to sit next to me. "You're exhausted? I slept on the world's hardest chair bed for the last three nights."

"I had a human being cut out of my stomach three days ago," I reminded him.

"Alright, you win," he grumbled jokingly, as he picked up the remote control that was lying between us and turned the TV on. "But I get the next nap."

Whenever I had pictured being a new parent, there were two things I expected to happen – sleep deprivation being first on the list, followed by an overwhelming and unending state of anxiety. Both turned out to be true. I hadn't slept more than two hours in a row in over a week, and every minor change in the baby's life seemed like a crisis at first. I had already made three calls to the nurse's line at the pediatricians and had been reassured that everything Grace was doing was perfectly normal and appropriate. Breastfeeding still wasn't coming completely naturally, and at Grace's first appointment she was two ounces shy of regaining her birth weight after a week. The doctor was a little concerned but decided he'd give me another week to try to get her back on track before he'd insist that we supplement with formula. It felt like I was feeding her non-stop so I wasn't sure what more I could do but I hoped that we'd be able to fight through this.

But in between feedings and frightening milestones like first baths and first projectile poop during a diaper change, having a newborn was actually pretty boring. She didn't do much yet – no smiles or laughs or even coos. She cried a lot, though she was usually fairly quickly calmed as soon as I picked her up and rocked her in my arms, gently shhh-ing near her ear as The Happiest Baby on the Block video had recommended. I was much less successful in keeping her quiet and content while she lied in the bassinette, and any time I did manage to put her down still asleep was a major victory. She slept constantly; aside from feedings and diaper changes, she was rarely awake for more than an hour a day. (Of course, she managed to time all of her wake ups right when I was just finally about to fall asleep, so it certainly didn't feel like her sleep schedule was helping me in any way). And as adorable as it was to watch Grace sleep, even my sleep-addled brain needed something more to keep me sane.

Fortunately, I had Eli.

In the week since we'd returned to the hospital, he had basically moved in. He'd popped out for about an hour each day to change his clothes, and by the fourth day, he'd returned with a bag and started using my shower. Two days ago I had started to fold the basket of Grace's clothes that he'd washed and dried down in the basement to discover two pairs of Eli's boxers and a few of his t-shirts mixed in with the tiny onesies. We'd been sharing a bed in the most technical of senses; it was rare that both of us even got to lie down at the same time, and the respite was so needed that there wasn't a trace of awkwardness.

He was currently out at the grocery store, picking up a few things since with Eli's voracious appetite we had gone through Helen's stocked freezer meals much faster than I had anticipated. He'd been gone almost two hours and I missed him already. Gracie had fallen asleep as soon as I'd finished feeding her and I was still hanging on to her, afraid to set her off by putting her down without Eli here to help. He had turned out to be quite the baby whisperer, doing a more effective and patient job of calming her than anything I could do short of sticking a nipple in her mouth to quiet her. I hadn't realized he'd be gone for so long and I aimlessly flickered through the TV channels, the volumes so low that I could barely hear what was happening.

Before too long, the key that he'd stolen from the bowl next to the door rattled in the lock, and Eli returned, pushing a laundry cart full of grocery bags and a large duffel bag. "Nice cart, Grandpa," I teased.

Eli laughed. "Grabbed it from my condo. It's amazing how much easier bringing groceries up six floors when you've got wheels. I figure it'll help you with the laundry too."

I watched him sort the groceries into the refrigerator and near empty cabinets and tried to interpret what he meant by that. Since we'd arrived home from the hospital, Eli had done two loads of laundry for me. The way he had worded his offer of the cart had made it seem like I would be on my own, but he had obviously grabbed more than just that from his home. Sure enough, once the groceries were put away, he dug his laptop out of the duffel bag that was stuffed with extra clothes, along with a power strip since he'd been complaining my apartment was lacking in outlets. He unplugged my bedside lamp to plug in his things.

The strangest thing about our situation was that we hadn't actually discussed our living arrangements. Eli clearly wanted to spend as much time with Grace as possible, and I was grateful for the help and the company. But I wasn't sure exactly when this was all going to end.

All I knew was that I didn't want it to end.

The small bundle in my arms let out a little squeak and I looked down to find Grace looking back at me, eyes wide open. I glanced at the clock and realized that it was too soon to feed her again, so this was probably her brief awake period for the night.

"Somebody's glad Daddy's home," I said, stroking her cheek gently.

Eli sat down on the bed next to us and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Hi Gracie baby. You missed me?"

She looked back at us as if she was trying to figure out who we were and why on earth we were babbling at her. "What should we do with her?" Eli asked, reaching out for her hand with one finger.

For what little time we had with her, figuring out what was the best thing to do with her was much harder than it should be. "Read her a book?" I suggested.

Eli shrugged as he got up and grabbed a book at random. "This is Olivia," he said, holding the book open so that it was facing Grace. "She is good at lots of things." His tone was flat and unconvincing, and he rushed through the book as quickly as possible.

"You have to do voices," I chided as he read Olivia's dialogue with the same flat tone as the narration. "She'll respond to your change in intonation."

"She's a week old, Clare," he said, rolling his eyes. "She's not responding to anything."

"You're the one who's an actor. You can't even read a picture book?"

"Sorry," he said. "My acting career ended with Love Roulette and my literary interest just barely dips down into YA. Kiddie lit is not my thing." He picked up the book again, but I couldn't listen to him butcher one of my favourite picture books.

"Give me that," I said, swiping the book from him. I lowered my voice in a haughty tone. "It's time for your you-know-what," I quoted Olivia's mother.

Eli cracked up and I resisted the urge to hit him over the head with a pillow. "What?" I asked.

"Who sounds like that?" he chuckled.

"Mothers do," I insisted.

"Ohhh," he said, affecting a similar half-British accent. "Does that mean you'll be talking like this from now on?"

This time I didn't resist and the pillow landed on his face with a satisfying thwomp. "Oww," he joked, rubbing his nose.

He grabbed the pillow to reciprocate but I just pulled Grace closer to me. "Careful with the baby," I warned.

"I'll get you back later," Eli grumbled. He jumped up from the bed. "If I start cooking now, dinner will be ready in about 40 minutes. Do you think you'll be okay then?"

I glanced at the clock. Gracie would need a feeding in about an hour but if she held out that long I could easily finish before then – and if not, Eli could probably keep a plate warm for twenty minutes until I was ready. "Sounds good."

He started pulling out long neglected pots and pans and turned on the stove. I looked at Grace, her eyes still on mine. I wondered if we were doing the right thing, letting her get used to the three of us being a family together. I knew Eli was right; that she wouldn't understand much of what was going around her right now, fictional stories or not, but it still worried me.

"I'm right with you, Gracie," I whispered. "I don't get it either."

"What was that?" Eli asked, looking up from the vegetables he'd lined up on the cutting board.

"Nothing," I said, embarrassed to be caught confiding in Gracie, though I supposed it was to be expected given Eli was only about ten feet away in my tiny apartment. I picked up the book and continued to read, "Of course, Olivia's not at all sleepy."

A few weeks later, I was going stir crazy. Although my incision was healing properly and no longer hurt, I still wasn't allowed to carry Gracie in her car seat which meant that unless Eli was with us, I couldn't leave the apartment. I had taken her for a few walks on my own – only after Eli had lifted the car seat onto the stroller for me – but the sweltering June heat was uncomfortable for me, and Gracie seemed to get so hot in the car seat, even if I covered her with a light blanket to block out the sun. I had received one of those baby carriers that theoretically strapped the baby to my chest at my shower but it was so complicated that I had given up using it immediately. A short walk to the corner pharmacy was as far as I could go on my own since Gracie could decide she was hungry at any moment.

All I wanted was a few hours – moments even – to myself. I had never been much of a shopper, but I longed to go to the Eaton Centre and just walk around, unfettered by diaper bags and nursing covers. I missed the long hours of quiet solitude in my office at work, staying into the night to produce a last minute article after the death of a famous author or to fix a disastrous first draft from one of my contributors. I just wished I could hear myself think; Grace's cries were one thing, but Eli's ceaseless teasing was quite another.

Being stuck for weeks in a studio apartment with another adult and a newborn was practically a form of torture.

It was almost a relief when Eli got a call from a friend of his who had agreed to direct the summer show for the community theatre that Eli was so involved in. His friend was afraid of doing auditions alone for his first directing job, so I gave Eli my blessing to help him.

But even long desired solitude had its limits and when Eli's three nights of auditions turned into a full Saturday session as well, I invited Meghan over to spend a little time with Grace and me. Devin had been getting over a cold when Gracie was born so she was thrilled to bring him over to introduce him to his new baby cousin.

One thing I wasn't quite ready to do was explain the situation between Eli and me. Nothing had changed since he'd ostensibly moved in and for all the talking we'd done, the state of our relationship hadn't been addressed by either of us. I knew Meghan had the ability to read me like no one else on the planet – well, besides Alli (who was finally planning a trip to Toronto in August just to see Gracie – "the most adorable baby ever" as she posted on every single photo I uploaded to Facerange – though I knew better than to get my hopes up about it happening). But I just wanted to take my mind off of Eli for the first time in a month. So before Meghan was scheduled to arrive, I threw all of his belongings back into his duffel bag and managed to cram it into my already teeming closet. I tried to convince myself that the things that Eli had left scattered around the apartment were a safety hazard for newly walking Devin and not simply something I needed to hide.

I had to laugh, remembering how horrible of a job I had done babysitting Devin all those months ago. Now getting a baby to take a nap was second nature, and while we had been avoiding giving Gracie bottles, my doctor had recommended pumping more frequently to increase my milk supply so I had plenty of milk bags in the freezer, just waiting for her to be ready for them. For the first time, I actually looked forward to spending time with Devin, and seeing what things Grace will do in the future.

Of course, when they finally showed up, Devin had his arms wrapped around Meghan's leg and tugged on her jeans until she finally picked him up. "Don't you want to say hi to Auntie Clare?"

He shook his head and buried his face in her shoulder and I had to laugh. I was finally ready for him and he didn't want to have anything to do with me.

"Devin, would you like to meet your cousin Gracie?" I asked, finally comfortable with that sing-song Mom voice I had found so alien all those months ago.

He looked up for a second. "Baby?"

"Yes," Meghan chirped. "This is the baby I've been telling you about."

She sat down next to me on the bed, holding Devin tightly in case he tried to jump on Gracie. "That's his first two syllable word," she said, sounding pleased. "Besides Mama and Dada, of course."

"Good job, Devin," I said.

He looked at Grace for a second, then looked at me again. "Baby?"

I nodded. "This is the baby."

He giggled, then lunged toward her. Meghan caught him just in time. "Woah there. She's very little, Devvy. You have to be gentle."

He wrinkled his nose and stuffed his little hand into his mouth. "Eat," he said, clearly done with Grace.

Meghan laughed and started digging through her diaper bag before pulling out a sippy cup of milk and a jar of pureed green beans. "I don't have a high chair," I apologized. "I left it at Helen's."

"Eh, we'll be fine," she said. She pulled out a blanket and spread it on the floor before sitting Devin down in the middle of it. "How's everything going?" she asked, spooning the gross looking beans into Devin's mouth.

"Good, I guess." I smiled down at Gracie who was reaching up toward my face. "She seems like a really good baby. She only cries when she needs something and she stops pretty quickly."

"You look better than I did when Devvy was a month old. Are you getting any sleep?"

I nodded. "She'll go down for about four hours at a time. It's not amazing, but it's better than it was in the beginning. The problem is that it takes me at least an hour to get to sleep on a good day so it's still not enough." And that was when I was able to stop thinking of the fact that Eli was lying next to me, not touching me, not looking at me, snoring away like this meant nothing to him at all.

"How's Eli doing with the Dad thing? Have you talked to him much?"

Fortunately she was distracted by feeding Devin so she didn't see the look on my face. "Yeah, he's been over a lot. He's doing great, really. He's much calmer than I am."

She laughed. "Like that's a shock."

I shook my head. "You don't know him. He can be pretty intense about things."

"So I've heard." She wiped Devin's chin with a baby wipe. "I need to use the washroom; can you watch him?"

"Sure," I said, but I was drowned out Devin's insistent, "Noooooooooo."

Meghan sighed. "Enjoy peeing in private while you can."

She hauled Devin over to the bathroom and I looked at Grace. "More things to look forward to." I leaned down to kiss her soft cheek. She yawned, letting out the sweetest sigh, as her eyes fluttered shut. I gently laid her in the bassinette, relieved when she seemed content to lie down.

Usually when I was alone and Grace was sleeping I either attempted to nap or turned on the TV to absorb more mindless entertainment than I had in the five years preceding her birth. I found it too hard to concentrate on reading when I was this tired and I'd been leaving all non-baby practical matters to Eli, who seemed to be less addled by the lack of sleep. I didn't want Meghan to see me lazing around considering she always seemed to be something of a super-mom. I noticed there was a pile of dishes in the sink, so I turned on the faucet and grabbed a sponge, when Meghan stormed out of the bathroom with a loud bang.

I figured Devin was responsible for her mood so I didn't even look up until I heard her growl, "Clare Edwards…you lying little bitch."

"Excuse me?" I turned the water off and shook my hands over the sink. I did not expect to turn around to find Meghan brandishing a disposable razor.

A men's disposable razor.

Shit.

"He's living here?" she accused. She dropped the razor on top of my dresser though I could tell she had a few other places she'd like to put it.

"He's just helping me with the baby," I explained. "There's nothing going on."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" She sat Devin on the blanket and threw a few matchbox cars at him and to my displeasure, he was completely distracted by them.

"I knew you would turn it into a big deal."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't even know," I admitted.

Meghan gazed at me skeptically. I sat down on the bed and patted the seat next to me. She joined me on the bed, arms crossed and resistant as I told her exactly what had been happening. She seemed determined to tell me I was making a mistake, but as I explained how Eli had been so helpful with the baby and so supportive while I was struggling with breastfeeding and so all around useful, her expression softened.

When I was finished, I looked up at her, expecting an angry tirade. Instead, I got a reluctant sigh. "Clare…when are you going to admit to yourself that you want to be with Eli?"

"It's not that simple," I protested.

"I feel like we've had this conversation a million times. You keep telling me that Eli's so bad for you, but the Eli who cheated on you all those years ago isn't the guy camping out in your shitty apartment, waiting on you hand and foot."

"He's not a freaking servant. I wouldn't want to be with a guy like that anyway."

She waved me off. "Of course not. But he's here, Clare. What more do you want?"

"He's here for the baby," I emphasized. "He's not here for me."

Meghan covered her face with her hands. "Ugh…I know you're only stepsiblings but sometimes I think you and Jake must have some shared DNA from some long ago ancestor because you can both be so fucking oblivious to what's right in front of you."

I shook my head. "Eli is a very direct guy. If he wanted to be with me, he would have said something. He hasn't tried to kiss me. He hasn't even alluded to something being between us since before the baby."

"Because every time he made some sort of overture, you turned him down," she said.

"And it's not like we're one perfect happy family anyway. I mean, we're arguing all the time. Every time I think we're having a nice conversation he'll start making fun of me; seriously, he's made me cry at least five times."

"You are a bundle of hormones," she said pointedly. "And both of you are sleep deprived. You know how perfect Jake and I are for each other, and there were times in the first few months where I actually thought we might end up getting divorced. I kicked him one night for making a comment about my breasts and how Devin was hogging them."

"What did he do?" I asked, shocked I hadn't heard about this before.

She smirked. "Went to the lakehouse and got high. He's Jake. What else would he do?"

"I'm still not sure how you can think the two of you are perfect for each other."

"I'm still not sure why you still think Eli's wrong for you." She leaned over and patted my leg. "Why don't you tell him how you feel?"

"How long would you say it took you and Jake to get serious with each other? After you first met, I mean," I asked, dodging her question.

Meghan raised an eyebrow, knowing I was fully aware of their history. "It was what…six, seven months? I mean, I knew there was something there right away but he took forever to dump that skank whore and I was still on and off with Chad, and then we were hooking up but dancing around whether it was serious for a while. But you know all that."

"If I were to tell Eli I wanted to be with him tomorrow, what do you think that relationship would look like?"

Meghan's expression told me she was clearly concerned about my level of sanity. "God, Clare, we're not 19 year olds any more. You've known the guy for a decade. Are you really that scared of commitment?" When I didn't answer, she pressed on, "Would you rather be with a guy like Michael again? Waiting around for him to call? Having a quickie in your office at work because you don't want to bring him home to your apartment and you suspect he might have someone else at his?"

"No, that's not what I want," I admitted. "But it's not fair that if I want to be with Eli, it immediately has to be this huge serious relationship."

"You and Eli didn't have a casual relationship when you were in high school. You're both too intense to even have a casual friendship. You're right. It's not fair that you and Eli don't get to do the cute dating stuff. It's not fair that if things go wrong, you can't just chalk it up to a bad dating choice and move onto the next guy. There's a lot at stake here."

"But Clare…" Meghan's hand tightened on my forearm. "You've had ten months to get to know him again. You've taken this relationship as slow as humanly possible. Why can't you believe he might be worth it?"

"Because the second I let myself believe that, he's going to leave me," I said, breaking down into tears. "Because everyone leaves, especially Eli." I felt like there was a home video playing in my mind: Darcy, then my Dad, then Eli, Adam…even Alli. Everyone I'd loved was either dead, barely in my life, or completely absent from it.

"Clare…"

"I know it's crazy," I said, wiping my face with the back of my hand a bit too aggressively. "I know I'm living in a fantasy land where I'm in a pretend relationship because I'm too scared to ask for a real one. But I can live with this unsteady status quo because the second I try to turn it into more it's all going to fall apart."

Grace let out a cry and I looked at the clock and let out another sob of my own. "And now I have to go be the human faucet again."

Meghan leapt up to pick up Grace, cradling her with practiced arms and a controlled jiggle. "You don't have to be superhero, Clare. I can give her a bottle if you want."

Devin looked up from his cars and saw his mother holding another baby and immediately started tugging at her jeans. "Up! Up!" he insisted, and Meghan reluctantly passed Grace to me and complied.

"No bottles before six weeks," I reminded her, but Meghan shook her head.

"That's not a hard and fast rule," she said. "And if you're this miserable breastfeeding, you're going to give up anyway. You should start pumping more. Let Eli take a few feedings off your hands so you can get a little more sleep. And if you have to supplement with formula, it's not the end of the world. You and I survived."

"This from the woman who stopped breastfeeding, what, last week?"

Meghan frowned. "I stopped at a year, but I wasn't having issues with it. It was harder to get Devy to take a bottle than the boob." Devin perked up a bit at the word and Meghan rolled her eyes and set him down on the floor again. "It doesn't make you less of a mom, you know."

"I know I'm not the perfect mom," I said simply. "And I know I'm not a superhero." I sighed. "I just wanted something to go right for once."

Meghan reached over and ruffled Gracie's soft hair. "You have a beautiful daughter. That's pretty right in my book."

I stood up to go put Grace on the changing table to take care of her wet diaper before feeding her. "You're right about one thing," I said, my tone clearly indicating that this conversation was over.

Meghan looked like she had more to say but thankfully bit her tongue, gathering up Devin to leave so that I could feed Grace in private. But even after she left, I couldn't get our conversation out of my mind.

What would Eli need to do before I could let myself try again with him? For me to put myself out there? For me to risk getting my heart shattered yet again? I pictured him holding Grace, and then tried to picture Grace and me, alone together. I felt his absence in the latter image, but there was something missing from the former as well.

I believed Eli loved Grace and that he would do anything to be a good father to her. He cared about her and not just out of a sense of obligation.

But I didn't believe that if I hadn't gotten pregnant and hadn't given birth to Grace that Eli would still be in my life. He was here out of loyalty to her, not to me. And until he proved otherwise, I wasn't going to put myself out there for him to reject once again.