Page 5 of Claiming My Grumpy Ex

Beth took my ID, glancing between me and the computer screen as she typed. “Yes, Elena, let me just check here…” she said, her voice calm and professional.

Elena!

The name felt foreign to my ears. In my current circle, I was simply known as Ellie—a nickname that had become second nature among friends and clients alike.

Finally, the nurse looked up, giving me a reassuring nod. “Jake’s in Room 3, just down the hall. The doctor is with him now, but you can go in.”

“Thank you,” I breathed, already moving toward the hallway. Cory stayed a few steps behind me, his presence steady, somehow grounding, as if he knew that I needed to feel some support without a word spoken.

When I stepped into the room, I felt a rush of relief at the sight of Jake sitting up on the examination table, looking onlymildly uncomfortable as he clutched his wrist. His face lit up when he saw me.

“Mom!” he called out, his voice full of relief and just a hint of embarrassment.

“Oh, Jake,” I whispered, rushing to his side and wrapping him in a careful hug. “What happened? What hurts?”

“It’s just my wrist, Mom,” he mumbled, shrugging. “The doctor said I’m okay. I fell playing ball.”

The doctor, who stood at the foot of the bed, gave me a reassuring smile. “Jake has a mild sprain, but thankfully, nothing’s broken. We’ll just wrap it up, and he should take it easy for a few days.”

I let out a shaky breath, my shoulders relaxing as relief washed over me. “Thank you, Doctor,” I said, my tone grateful.

As I took in the sight of Jake chatting easily with the doctor, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude—not just for Jake’s safety but for Cory’s unexpected support. Turning back toward the door, I caught his eye, giving him a small, appreciative smile.

He returned it with a simple nod, leaning casually against the doorway as if he belonged there.

Jake, ever the social butterfly, quickly took notice of Cory. “Who’s that?” he asked, grinning and nodding toward him.

“Oh,” I said, realizing I hadn’t introduced them. “This is Cory. He was kind enough to bring me here when our car wouldn’t start.”

“Hey, there.” Cory nodded.

“You look like you’d be good at baseball,” Jake blurted out, ever blunt. “Do you play?”

“Yep. I used to. Played a bit back in elementary school.”

Jake’s eyes lit up. “Cool! You should come to my game this Saturday. Mom says we’re getting better every week!”

Before I could interject, Cory met Jake’s hopeful gaze with a smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

I watched their easy exchange, something warm and unsettling blooming in my chest. At first, Cory’s tone was a bit gruff, like he was just humoring a kid, but Jake seemed to break right through that with his bright, curious questions. The way Cory responded to him, his tone shifting to a mix of serious and amused, seemed… familiar. It was like watching an old friend interact with my son—comfortable and natural.

As Jake chatted away, asking Cory everything from his favorite team to whether he could throw a curveball, I caught myself studying Cory’s face again, still trying to piece together why he felt so familiar. Still, the longer I looked at him, the more that feeling of déjà vu settled over me like I was trying to recognize someone from a half-forgotten dream. I couldn’t shake the thought that I knew him, but the details didn’t align. Cory had the kind of presence that felt… important as if he were somehow meant to be here in this moment with Jake and me.

I pushed the thought aside, turning back to Jake as he continued chatting away. It was stress, I told myself, just the mix of relief and gratitude messing with my head. There was no reason to believe I knew him from anywhere beyond the walls of the salon.

But as we left the hospital, the reality of my car situation sank in again. Cory seemed to read the hesitation in my step, his keys already in hand.

“I can drive you both home,” he offered, his tone casual but leaving little room for argument.

I glanced at Jake, who was looking up at Cory with something close to hero worship. I knew I didn’t have a choice, not without a working car. “Thank you,” I said, trying to keep the gratitude from spilling over. “I’ll call the mechanic once we get back.”

“Great idea,” he replied with a nod, leading us to his SUV.

The drive home was short, and the quiet felt easy rather than awkward. I stared out the window, watching the sceneryblur into twilight, while Jake dozed off in the backseat, his head lolling gently against the headrest.

When we pulled into my driveway, Cory parked and climbed out, coming around to help Jake. His movements were careful, almost instinctive, as he lifted my half-asleep son from the car.

As I unlocked the door and pushed it open, Cory gave Jake a soft smile. “Looking forward to seeing you play baseball real soon, Bud.”

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