Page 18 of Claiming My Grumpy Ex

I slowed as I passed the driveway, my gaze drawn to her in the side yard. Elena was crouched over a small flower bed, carefully patting the soil around her plants. She looked peaceful, untouched by the years that had passed in my absence. A pang of nostalgia hit me as I watched her, fully immersed in the rhythm of her life—a life I hadn’t been part of.

For a while, I stayed in the car, unwilling to break the quiet moment. But the pull was too strong. I parked a little farther down the street and stepped out, shutting the door softly behind me. Each step brought a familiar feeling I hadn’t experienced in years. It was like stepping back in time to when I was just a lanky high school kid, always hoping for an excuse to see her, to steal a fleeting moment together.

I cleared my throat, the words slipping out, soft and familiar.

“Have not saints lips and holy palmers too?”

Her shoulders tensed, her hands stilling over the plants. Slowly, she straightened, her back to me, and took a deep, steadying breath. She didn’t turn, but her voice, when it came, never wavered.

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

I felt a surge of emotion so strong it nearly knocked me off my feet. Those lines from that high school play we’d both starred in still held the same magic they had back then. I moved closer, almost afraid to break the spell.

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair,” I murmured, barely a foot away from her now.

Finally, she turned, and her eyes met mine. In that instant, the years fell away. There we were, two people who had once known each other better than anyone else, now facing each other with all the weight of time between us. But as I looked into her eyes, I saw that same light, that same spark that had drawn me to her in the first place.

Without a word, she closed the space between us, her arms reaching up to wrap around my neck. I pulled her in, feeling the softness of her body against mine, her breath soft on my cheek. My hand slid to her lower back, and for a beat, we stood there, lost in each other, in the familiarity, in everything unsaid.

After a long moment, she pulled back just enough to look up at me, her cheeks tinged with a soft blush. Her gaze was curious, almost shy, as if she couldn’t quite believe I was there. I took the opportunity to study her, my eyes tracing the familiar lines of her face but catching something different. Something… subtle.

“You look different,” I murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Your nose…?”

A faint smile curved her lips, and she shrugged. “I had a car accident a few years back. Broke my nose and figured it was the perfect excuse to… make a few changes.”

I chuckled softly, lifting a hand to trace the line of her nose gently. “Well, I like it. But I think I liked the old one too.”

She laughed, the sound soft and musical, and it stirred something deep inside me, something I thought I’d buried a long time ago. Her laughter faded, and she looked at me, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite decipher. I leaned in, unable to resist, and pressed my lips to hers, soft and lingering. She responded, her lips warm and inviting. It was like nothing had changed. It was just us, standing together as if all those years hadn’t passed.

When we finally broke apart, she sighed softly, her gaze dropping. “CJ… uh, Cory, why now?”

Her voice was barely a whisper—full of questions. I took a deep breath, realizing there was no easy answer. “I had to see you,” I said, my voice thick with the weight of everything I felt. To see… if there’s still something here. And maybe… if there’s more to this than just us.”

Her eyes softened, a flicker of something I dared to hope was understanding. But then, as if remembering herself, she took a small step back, nodding slowly.

“I… I need to pick up Jake,” she said softly. “But if you want, come back later—once he’s asleep. We can talk… in private.”

I nodded, my throat tight. “I’ll be here.”

She hesitated, pulling out her phone. “Actually… let me call you when he’s down for the night.” She glanced at me, a small, hopeful smile graced her features as she held out her phone. “Might make it easier to… plan.”

A little too eager, I quickly took my phone out, fumbling for a second before we exchanged numbers. Our fingers brushed as she handed my phone back, and I felt a spark, a reminder of how much I’d missed that connection. I looked down at her contact info on the screen, her name sitting there like it had never been gone.

“Got it. I’ll wait for your call.” My voice came out a little quicker than I intended, and her eyes softened at the edges like she’d picked up on it.

She lingered for a heartbeat longer, her gaze holding mine as if she wasn’t quite ready to let go of our time together. Then, with one last glance, she turned and walked back toward the house, leaving me standing there with a head full of memories, her number saved in my phone, and a heart that was anything but ready to let go.

Ten

Elena

The evening settled in faster than I’d expected, leaving me scrambling to collect myself after Jake’s visit. My heart still raced from the rush of emotions—the surprise of seeing him there. But now, the glow of those memories had to be set aside, overshadowed by the grounding presence of my son and the responsibilities that tethered me to reality. I promised myself I’d stay focused on Jake, no matter how much the thought of Cory pulled at me, threatening to unravel the fragile balance I was barely holding together.

As I pulled up to the school, I spotted Jake with his teammates, and his spirits were high as he laughed with his friends. They stood in a loose circle on the field, joking around, their voices carrying in the crisp afternoon air. I parked, watched him for a second longer, and realized how much he’d grown—both in height and confidence.

When he noticed me, he waved and jogged over, his face lighting up. “Hey, Mom! Guess what?”

“What’s up, kiddo?” I grinned as he slid into the passenger seat, dumping his gear in the back.

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