Chapter 12

Twelve

Elena

The sun peeked through the blinds as I tied my hair into a loose ponytail and pulled on my Cedar Cove Bears T-shirt. Saturdays always had a certain buzz, but today was extra special—Jake’s championship game. His excitement had been building all week, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of pride and nerves for him.

I reached for my phone to text Cory and let him know to meet us at the ballpark near the concession stand. Scrolling through my messages, I paused when a text from Luke popped up from a few days ago:

LUKE: Sorry, but I won’t be able to do our weekend getaway. My sister’s throwing a surprise party for her husband, and I can’t miss it. Rain check?

A wave of relief washed over me. I’d been dreading having to navigate whatever that weekend was going to be. With everything happening with Cory, I didn’t have the bandwidth to untangle whatever expectations Luke might have. There was too much up in the air. Too much I still didn’t understand about where Cory and I stood—or could stand.

“Mom! Are you ready?” Jake called from the hallway, breaking through my thoughts.

“Almost,” I replied, shoving my phone into my bag. “Go grab your glove and water bottle.”

He darted off, and I took a steadying breath. This wasn’t about Luke or Cory right now. Today was Jake’s day.

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?”

I glanced over and saw one of Jake’s teammates talking to him curiously. Jake hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “Nah, he’s just a family friend.”

Something in his tone tugged at me—not dismissive, but cautious. My stomach tightened as I turned away, pretending I hadn’t overheard. Jake wasn’t wrong, technically. That was the safest answer for now. Still, the words stung, a reminder of how much Cory had missed in Jake’s life and how much we had to navigate moving forward.

Cory appeared beside me, his hand lightly brushing my arm. “You okay?” he quietly asked.

I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. Just thinking about how much fun Jake’s having.”

He studied me briefly before letting it go, his focus shifting back to the celebration. But the worry in his eyes lingered.

Later, as the party began to wind down, parents exchanged goodbyes, and the kids exchanged high-fives one more time. Jake seemed reluctant to leave, bouncing from one teammate to the next, reliving every moment of the game. Finally, Cory crouched down to Jake’s level and smiled.

“Hey, champ,” Cory said. “Think you’re ready to call it a night?”

Jake grinned but nodded, his energy finally waning. “Yeah, but only if we can do this again next season.”

Cory chuckled, ruffling Jake’s hair. “We’ll see about that.”

The ride home was quieter than I’d expected. Jake sat in the backseat, his championship trophy clutched tightly in his hands, his head resting against the window. The day’s excitement had drained him, leaving him in a contemplative stillness.

Cory drove, his hands steady on the wheel, the glow of the streetlights playing across his face. I sat beside him. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, the kind that hovered, waiting for the right moment.

Jake finally broke the silence. “Cory, are you coming over again?”

Cory glanced at me briefly, his expression thoughtful before he answered. “If your mom’s okay with it, I’d love to.”

Jake grinned, leaning back into his seat, the smile lingering on his face. “Cool,” he murmured, his eyes drifting closed.

By the time we pulled into the driveway, Jake was half-asleep, and his exhaustion was apparent as he stumbled out of the car. Cory took the lead, carrying his gear into the house and down the hall to his room.

As I adjusted the shower in the bathroom, Jake’s voice called out, groggy but curious. “Mom? Why’s Cory staying so late?”

I paused, glancing toward the doorway where Cory leaned casually against the frame, his expression soft but attentive. “After your shower, we’ll talk,” I said, kissing Jake’s cheek. His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t argue, heading toward the bathroom with slow, sleepy steps.

The sound of running water filled the quiet as I turned back to Cory. Our eyes met, and for a moment, the weight of what we were about to say hovered around us. I exchanged a glance with him, silently asking if he was ready. He gave me a slight nod, his hand brushing mine briefly—a touch to reassure my nerves.

My heart pounded in my chest as Jake walked back to his room, freshly showered and with damp hair. Cory and I followed suit, and I sat down on the edge of his bed. It was time. There was no going back now.

“Jake, there’s something we’ve been meaning to tell you,” I started, my voice soft. “Cory isn’t just a family friend.”

Jake frowned slightly, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

Cory stepped forward, sitting on the other side of the bed. His voice was steady, but I could see the nerves in his eyes. “Jake, I’m your dad.”

The room was still for a beat, the weight of the words settling in. Jake blinked up at us, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. “Seriously?”

Cory nodded. “Seriously.”

Jake sat up straighter, looking between us. “I had a feeling.”

I chuckled softly, ruffling his hair. “Yes.”

Jake beamed, his excitement cutting through the tension. “Does this mean you’ll come to all my games now?”

Cory laughed, full of relief. “Every single one, if I can help it.”

Jake’s grin widened as he settled back against his pillow. “Cool. I always wanted a dad who likes baseball.”

I leaned down to kiss his forehead, my heart full as I whispered, “Get some sleep, champ. Cory’s taking me to pick up my car at the park, but we’ll be back soon.”

Jake nodded, already half-asleep as he murmured, “Night, Mom. Night, Dad.”

The words hit me like lightning, and I exchanged a look with Cory, who seemed just as stunned. But Jake’s eyes were already closed, his breathing evening out as sleep took over.

Cory stood first, his expression a mixture of pride and awe. “Did he just…?”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. Together, we quietly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind us.

As Cory drove back to the park, the air between us was thick with a mix of relief and unspoken emotion. Jake’s acceptance had been more than we could have hoped for, but the weight of the day still lingered.

When we arrived, Cory parked near my car, the lot empty and quiet under the glow of the streetlights. “I’ll follow you back, make sure you get home safe,” he said, his voice gentle.

“Thanks,” I replied, offering a tired smile.

As I slid into my car and started the engine, my phone buzzed in the cup holder. I frowned, picking it up to see Mom flashing on the screen. My stomach tightened as I answered, pressing the phone to my ear. “Hey, Mom.”

Her voice was bright but carried an edge of guilt. “Hi, sweetie. Just wanted to let you know we’re back in Beaver Creek. Got in a little earlier than planned.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to mask my surprise. “That’s… great. Are you glad to be back in the Lone Star State?”

“Of course,” she replied. “But we’re sorry we missed Jake’s championship game. Your father feels terrible about it. How did it go?”

“They won,” I said, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. “Jake played great.”

“That’s wonderful! We’ll have to celebrate soon. Maybe dinner this week?”

“Sure, we’ll figure something out,” I said, my mind racing.

As we hung up, I sat there, gripping the steering wheel. The thought of explaining Cory’s reappearance to my parents made my stomach churn. They’d never forgiven him for leaving me, for disappearing without a word. How would they react now, knowing he was back in my life—and in Jake’s?

A tap on my window startled me, and I looked up to see Cory leaning down, concern etched on his face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing the tension out of my voice. “Just… my parents are back in town.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

I hesitated, glancing away. “It’s… complicated. Let’s talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

Cory nodded, sensing I wasn’t ready to dive into it. “Alright. Just let me know if you need anything.”

As we drove back to the house, I couldn’t shake the weight of the call. Tomorrow, I’d have to figure out how to handle the inevitable clash between my past and present. But tonight, I let myself focus on the small victories—Jake’s acceptance, Cory’s presence, and the hope that, somehow, we’d find a way through.

I turned and waved as Cory’s SUV continued down the street, a part of me wishing he had stayed.