Page 28 of Claiming My Grumpy Ex

Her eyes widened slightly, but she remained silent. Then, she sighed, her shoulders dropping as she leaned against the counter. “So, it is true.”

“What’s true?” I asked, my heart thudding.

She glanced toward the backyard. “Your father and I heard through the grapevine a long time ago that Cory was back in Texas, but we weren’t sure and decided not to mention it to you. So now he’s in your life again?”

“Yes,” I admitted, feeling myself blush. “It was so random how we met again. He showed up at the salon for a haircut. One thing led to another, and now he wants to be part of Jake’s life.”

Mother’s expression was a mix of understanding and lingering frustration. “Elena, you know how your father feels about him. He’s never forgiven Cory for leaving you like that, for not even writing after he enlisted. And to find out now that he’s… well, you know.”

I frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated as if weighing whether to say more. “Cory. He’s a billionaire now, isn’t he? He sold his grandfather’s oil business years ago. That’s what we’ve heard, anyway.”

The revelation hit me like a tidal wave. Billionaire? That didn’t match the image of the man who’d been quietly helping Jake’s baseball team or sitting on my back porch with me, pouring his heart out. “He… never mentioned that.”

Mom gave me a pointed look, her tone softening. “Be careful, Elena. This isn’t just about you anymore. Jake’s involved now, and you need to think about what’s best for him.”

I nodded, my thoughts swirling as I tried to process it all. Before I could respond, Dad’s voice boomed from the backyard, asking if lunch was ready.

“Let’s not keep them waiting,” Mom said, gently squeezing my arm. “We’ll talk more later.”

Lunch was a lively affair, as it always was at my parents’ house. Jake and Dad sat at one end of the table, their conversation bouncing from baseball to Florida fishing, while Mom and I occupied the other, more subdued in our exchanges. The smell of roasted chicken filled the room, mingling with the fresh tang of Mom’s signature potato salad.

“Grandpa,” Jake began, his mouth half-full of chicken, “do you think I could pitch next season?”

Dad chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Pitching takes practice, champ. But with some work, I bet you could be the best pitcher in Cedar Cove.”

Jake’s face lit up, and I couldn’t help but smile at how Dad doted on him. My son’s relationship with his grandfather had always been strong—a bond I cherished, even if it sometimes came with unsolicited advice about how I should be raising him.

“So,” Mom said as I followed her into the kitchen, her voice low enough that only I could hear, “are you going to tell your father about Cory?”

I stiffened, glancing at Dad, who was showing Jake how to properly grip a fork like a “real gentleman.” I shook my head. “Not today. I’m not sure how he’d take it.”

Mom sighed, pouring another glass of iced tea for us both. “You’ll have to eventually, you know. Secrets don’t sit well in this family.”

I nodded, my appetite dwindling. “I know. I just need a little more time to figure out how to tell him.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile, patting my hand. “You’ve always been independent, Elena. Sometimes to a fault. But you don’t have to handle this all on your own.”

Before I could respond, Dad’s voice boomed through the room. I sucked in a quick breath, wondering if Jake had mentioned Cory being his father. But to my surprise, Dad started laughing. “Elena, you remember when you tried to pitch for the church’s softball team?”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands as Jake’s eyes widened with curiosity. “No, Dad, let’s not revisit that particular chapter of my life.”

“Oh, come on!” Dad said, grinning. “You lasted four pitches before you walked Bobby Haynes. Never seen a kid run faster to first base as the runners on first, second, and third advanced, allowing the winning run.”

Jake burst into infectious laughter. Despite my embarrassment, I found myself laughing along with him, the memory from my own youth easing some of the tension I’d been carrying.

Mom began clearing the plates as lunch wound down, and I helped her gather the leftovers. Dad and Jake headed back outside, Jake clutching his glove while Dad promised to show him how to care for it properly now that the season was over. The sight of them together made my chest tighten—a bittersweet reminder of how much support I’d had from my parents over the years.

“Are you staying long?” Mom asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I shook my head. “We’ll head back to Cedar Cove this afternoon. Jake’s got homework to finish.”

“And Cory?” she asked gently, her tone laced with curiosity.

I hesitated, glanced out the window, and noticed Dad and Jake were seasoning his mitt with glove oil. “I’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

The drive back to Cedar Cove felt longer than usual, the sun dropping below the horizon. Jake sat in the back seat, his baseball glove resting on his lap, earbuds firmly in place as he bobbed his head to the beat of whatever song he was listening to. The sight made me smile, but the worry gnawing at my chest refused to ease.

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