Page 23 of Claiming My Grumpy Ex

The drive to the ballpark was filled with Jake’s chatter about batting averages, pitches, and his hopes for a homerun. His energy was contagious, and I found myself smiling as I turned into the gravel parking lot.

As we pulled up, my eyes immediately found Cory standing near the concession stand, looking every bit as relaxed and confident as I’d hoped he would. Jake spotted him, too, his face lighting up. “There’s Cory!”

Before I could say anything, Jake flung open the car door and took off toward him, yelling a greeting. I barely had the car in park before I stepped out, watching the two of them exchange a quick fist bump.

“Good morning, Elena,” Cory said, his eyes finding mine as I approached. There was something in his gaze that melted my heart.

“Same to you,” I replied, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice. “Thanks for coming.”

“Do you really think I would miss this,” he said simply, his attention momentarily flicking back to Jake, who was already heading toward his teammates.

The bleachers were buzzing with parents and siblings finding a place, setting up chairs, and unpacking coolers. Cory and I found a spot together, and while Jake warmed up with his team, we talked about the week—light things, nothing too deep.

Just as I was starting to relax, the coach walked over, clipboard in hand. “Hey, folks,” he began, addressing the group of parents. “Quick update. Our assistant coach had a family emergency and can’t make it today. Anyone here who’s coached or played baseball before?”

There was an awkward silence as parents glanced at one another, hesitant to volunteer. Cory, however, eagerly raised his hand.

The coach grinned, relief plain on his face. “Great! Could you give us a hand? It’s the championship game, and I could use someone to help keep the boys focused.”

Cory nodded. “Of course.”

As he stood and made his way towards the field, I couldn't help but notice Jake's face lighting up with a wide grin as he saw Cory join the team. The glow in his eyes spoke volumes about their budding connection. My heart swelled at the beautiful sight—it was like watching two puzzle pieces click together perfectly.

Cory turned back to me, flashing a quick smile and a thumbs-up before joining the other boys in their pre-game warm-ups. I chuckled softly, unable to contain my joy at seeing them together.

“Seems like a nice guy,” the mom sitting beside me said, nudging me with her elbow.

“Yes… yes, he is,” I replied. “I have been waiting a long time for a day like today.”

The Cedar Cove Bears took the field, their jerseys glowing under the midday sun as cheers erupted from the bleachers. Parents huddled together, chatting and clapping, while kids darted around with sticky popsicles.

I sat in the second row, trying to focus on the game, but my gaze kept drifting to Cory. He stood by the dugout, clipboard in hand, looking every bit like he belonged there. His easy confidence drew the occasional glance from other parents.

Jake was on first base, glove ready, his eyes locked on the batter. Occasionally, he glanced at Cory, who gave him an encouraging nod or clapped loudly. It was the kind of connection I hadn’t realized Jake was missing until now. My heart tightened as I watched them—two halves of something I hadn’t dared to imagine being whole.

The game started strong, with the Bears holding their own. By the third inning, Jake’s team had a narrow lead, and Cory had taken over, warming up pitchers and keeping the boys focused. His presence was seamless as if he’d been doing this for years. When Jake stepped up to bat, I held my breath, gripping the edge of the bleachers.

“Keep your eyes on the ball, Jake! You’ve got this!” Cory’s voice rang out above the chatter.

The pitch came fast, and Jake swung hard. The crack of the bat sent the ball soaring into the outfield, just out of reach of the center fielder’s glove. The crowd roared as Jake rounded first and slid into second, safe and grinning.

“Great job!” Cory yelled, clapping. Jake’s pride was palpable, his face lit with excitement.

The game stretched into the final inning, the Bears clinging to their one-point lead. The visiting team’s last batter stepped up, with runners on second and third. The tension in the air was thick as the Bears’ pitcher wound up and delivered the pitch. Strike three. The crowd erupted, cheers blending with kids shouting and jumping on the field.

Jake sprinted toward Cory, who caught him in a hug, lifting him off the ground. “You did it, champ!”

I stood back, clapping and cheering, but my focus never strayed far from the two of them. Jake looked up at Cory like he’d hung the moon, and Cory’s pride in him was unmistakable.

As the team gathered their things, Cory approached me, his expression glowing. “The coach mentioned a pizza party. My treat.”

I blinked, taken aback, but nodded. “That’s generous. Jake will love it.”

He grinned. “It’s for all of them. They’ve earned it.”

Soon the pizza shop was buzzing with energy. Kids in jerseys crowded around tables, devouring slices, and chugging sodas while parents milled about, chatting and snapping pictures. Cory generously took charge of the bill, earning a few curious glances from other parents. Meanwhile, Jake beamed as he recounted every play of the game to anyone who would listen.

I stood by the counter, refilling Jake’s drink, when a soft voice caught my attention.“So, who’s the guy you were hugging after the game? Your uncle?”

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