Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 110: The Shocking News

Chapter 110: The Shocking News

Jared reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. His fingers moved quickly, snapping a photo of the car and its plate number. He sent it to Nick with a message: "Run this. Immediately."

Sliding the phone back into his pocket, Jared resumed walking, his mind a whirlwind of calculations and emotions. His instincts told him this was just the beginning. Someone was circling too close to his family, too close to Jerica. They had underestimated him—underestimated the lengths he would go to protect the woman he loved.

His jaw tightened, and his eyes hardened with resolve. He wasn’t just some man living a quiet, unremarkable life. He’d spent years in shadows far darker than this. If they wanted a fight, he would bring the storm to their doorstep.

But as the tension mounted, one thought repeated in his mind, louder than all the others: They will not touch her.

Jerica sat nervously in the hospital waiting room, her fingers fidgeting with one another as the clock ticked softly on the wall. The room was warm and quiet, save for the occasional murmur of other couples or the rustle of magazines. It was the day after they had returned from their camping trip, and they were now at the clinic to collect her test results.

Jared sat beside her, his hand wrapped firmly around hers. His grip was steady, grounding her, and she found herself leaning into him with a small smile. No matter what they would learn today, she knew she wasn’t facing it alone.

Her gaze wandered around the room, lingering on the images of children lining the walls—bright, smiling faces of every age. The sight made her heart swell. She couldn’t help but dream of holding a child of her own, one with Jared’s mischievous smile or his soulful eyes. The thought filled her with a longing so profound it was almost overwhelming.

As she turned back to him, her thumb instinctively began to rub slow circles on the back of his hand. She thought of how much he had changed over the years. Lately, there was an intensity about him—a new kind of protectiveness that extended beyond words. It was in the way he held her, the way his gaze lingered, and the way he sought her out in the smallest moments.

Last night had been proof of that change. She blushed slightly at the memory. Jared had been so hungry for her, so fiercely devoted, it had taken her breath away. He’d loved her with a passion that left no room for doubt, his strength a testament to the rumors that he was a beast in every sense of the word. Yet, even in that wildness, there was tenderness—every touch, every kiss, had spoken of how deeply he cherished her.

Jerica bit her lip, suppressing a grin as she remembered how he had promised to give her everything she wanted. He had kept that promise, coming undone for her, and filling her with a renewed hope for their future. She rested her hand gently on her stomach, feeling a flutter of anticipation. This time, she was sure—it wouldn’t be long now.

As her name was called, Jerica jolted slightly, her nerves bubbling up again. Jared squeezed her hand and gave her an encouraging nod. Together, they stood and walked toward the consultation room, their steps in sync, their hearts united.

-----

The words hit Jerica like a freight train.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Evans. You have Stage IV cervical cancer," the doctor said.

Jerica stared at him, her mind struggling to process the words. It was as if time had frozen, the sounds of the bustling hospital fading into a muffled hum. She blinked, her mind usually buzzing with thoughts, now completely silent. Eerily silent.

She lowered her gaze to her lap, focusing on Jared’s hand clasped around hers. Or rather, his hand loosening its grip. The steady warmth she had always relied on felt unsteady now, as though he too was grappling with the enormity of what the doctor had just said. Her breath caught, and she tried to turn to Jared, searching his face for confirmation, for denial—anything to tell her this wasn’t real.

Stage IV?

Her thoughts began to unravel, chaotic now. How could this have happened without her knowing? Wouldn’t she have felt something? Some kind of warning?

"I’m sorry, but it has metastasized to your liver and intestine," the doctor continued, his voice clinical yet tinged with sympathy. "We can try treatments, but—"

"What treatments?" Jared’s voice cut through, sharp and commanding. It was the voice of a man who refused to accept defeat, but even his strength couldn’t quiet the storm building within Jerica.

She stared at the floor, the doctor’s words blending into an incomprehensible blur. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. She had come here filled with hope, dreams of starting a family, and now—now, they were telling her she was dying?

Am I really dying?

The next words struck like a cruel blow to her gut. "Hysterectomy, followed by chemotherapy and surgeries—"

She couldn’t bear to hear the rest. Her body moved on instinct, rising abruptly from her chair. The doctor’s voice faded behind her as she walked out of the room, her legs feeling leaden yet propelled by something she couldn’t control.

"Hysterectomy?" she whispered under her breath, the word bitter and alien on her tongue. The very thing she’d dreamed of—the chance to become a mother, to hold her own child—was being ripped away from her. Just yesterday, she’d been filled with so much joy and hope. Now, the same body she had trusted to carry life was betraying her in the cruelest way imaginable.

Her ears rang, the world around her muted. She barely noticed the people in the hallway stepping aside as she passed, their curious glances brushing over her like faint shadows. Her thoughts screamed louder than anything else.

Seriously?

She stumbled outside, the cool air hitting her face in a sharp slap of reality. Her legs gave out as she reached a bench, her body trembling from head to toe. She buried her face in her hands, her fingers cold against her flushed cheeks.

She wanted to scream, to cry, to curse the universe for its cruelty, but all she could do was sit there, numb. It was too much. The hysterectomy, the treatments, the bleakness of the word metastasized.

The dream of starting a family with Jared wasn’t just slipping away—it was being torn from her, brutally and irrevocably.

Somewhere, she knew Jared was still inside, likely demanding answers, fighting for her the way he always did. But right now, she couldn’t face him. Not yet. How could she look him in the eye when she felt like her whole world was crumbling, and she was powerless to stop it?

The sound of footsteps approached, and her heart sank. She didn’t have the strength to talk, to pretend she was okay. But when Jared’s warm hand touched her shoulder, grounding her, she let out a shaky breath.

"Jerica," he whispered, his voice soft yet firm, carrying all the love and reassurance he could muster.

She didn’t respond, her shoulders trembling as she fought a war within herself to keep her tears at bay. Slowly, Jared knelt beside her, pulling her into his arms. Her body was stiff against his at first, but then she let out a faint, shaky breath, her weight leaning into him.

"Let’s go," Jerica said suddenly, pulling herself free from his embrace. Her voice was low, distant, but resolute. "I do not want to be here..."

Jared’s arms fell to his sides as he watched her stand and take a few steps ahead. She didn’t look back. The rims of her eyes were red, and her lips trembled slightly as if holding back the flood of emotions threatening to break through. Her gait was uneven, as though her legs carried her more by instinct than intention. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, a visible manifestation of the storm raging inside her.

Jared followed quietly, his heart aching as he watched the woman he loved trying so desperately to hold herself together. He could see it in her restless eyes—the way they darted around but found no focus. He didn’t need to ask to know her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts, each one more tormenting than the last.

But amidst his own rising panic, Jared knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t give up, even if she did. This diagnosis couldn’t be right. It had to be a mistake. They would seek a second opinion, and then another if they had to. Someone would tell them the truth—that she was perfectly healthy.

She had to be. She was Jerica. His wife. His everything.

The thought of losing her, even in theory, was unbearable. A pit of fear settled deep in his chest, but he shoved it down, refusing to entertain it. She wasn’t going anywhere. She couldn’t. Not now, not ever.

The drive back to their apartment was consumed by a heavy, stifling silence. Jared didn’t mind it; he understood that Jerica needed the quiet, needed the space to make sense of what she’d just heard. Her gaze remained fixed out the window, her expression unreadable but heartbreakingly vacant.

She didn’t wipe the single tear that managed to escape down her cheek, nor did she seem to notice it.