Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 161: Time To Man Up

Chapter 161: Time To Man Up

Jerica returned, moving slowly but steadily, her hands resting lightly on her belly. Harold watched her closely, but his gaze wasn’t just on her—it was on the way she looked at Jared. The warmth in her eyes, the way her smile softened at the sight of her husband, the way Jared instinctively reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. There was something undeniably beautiful about it. It was unspoken, effortless—love.

Harold exhaled, leaning back slightly in his chair as a realization settled deep within him.

Family.

For most of his life, that word had been empty. A vague concept, a label with no weight. His own family had been more about power and alliances than warmth or belonging. But seeing Jared and Jerica together, he finally understood what it truly meant. Family wasn’t just blood—it was choosing someone, standing beside them, belonging to them in a way that went beyond words.

As the thought sat heavy in his chest, Jerica suddenly turned her sharp, knowing gaze on him, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "So..." she began, dragging out the word mischievously. "How’s it going with Catherine?"

Harold tensed immediately. He should’ve seen that coming.

Jerica was fishing for gossip, and he knew exactly why. Catherine had loved him enough to forget herself—Jerica had witnessed that firsthand. Now that they were working closely together, sparks must be flying. Jerica wasn’t just curious—she was prying, searching for confirmation of something she already suspected.

He wasn’t stupid—he knew she had asked Catherine the same question before. He also knew that Catherine’s blush had likely betrayed her. But Jerica wasn’t satisfied with just that—she wanted his side of the story too.

Harold shot her a glare, but she only grinned wider. Jared, seemingly uninterested, took a sip of her milkshake and immediately winced at the overwhelming sweetness. He frowned at the drink, clearly regretting his decision. Harold smirked. He could almost hear the unspoken thought in Jared’s head: How does she drink this much sugar?

"With what face am I supposed to ask her out?" Harold finally muttered, effectively throwing cold water on Jerica’s enthusiasm.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "You cannot change your face just for that, can you?" she quipped, her tone dry.

Harold rolled his eyes, already regretting saying anything at all.

"Just ask her out," Jerica said, exasperated. She honestly couldn’t believe him. After all these years, was this really what was stopping him?

Yes, she understood that Harold had ignored Catherine in the past, dismissed her as a nuisance. And yes, things had changed. Now he knew she was a Glover. Now, suddenly, things weren’t so simple. It wasn’t about just liking someone—it was about the implications. About whether it was right.

But to Jerica, that was bullshit.

She folded her arms and fixed him with a knowing look. "Would your feelings be any different if Catherine were from any other family?" she asked, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

Harold hesitated. But only for a second.

"I like her," he admitted quietly. "But I don’t have the courage to ask her out."

Jerica let out an exasperated sigh, throwing her hands in the air. "Oh, for God’s sake! You’re really going to let her do it, aren’t you?" she accused, eyes narrowing.

Leaning forward, she fixed him with a pointed stare. "What next, Harold? Are you expecting Catherine to kneel in front of you and propose marriage too?" Her voice was sharp, tinged with frustration.

Harold’s brows furrowed slightly at her words.

"What do you know?" he asked carefully, watching her reaction.

He wasn’t an idiot—he knew Catherine and Jerica were close. If anyone had insight into what Catherine wanted, it would be her.

Jerica crossed her arms and leveled him with a firm gaze. "Make the first move, you fool! Don’t deny her the chance to be feminine."

Harold blinked, the words sinking in.

Then, slowly, a grin crept onto his lips. He leaned back, tipping his head slightly before bowing his head with exaggerated flourish.

"As you wish, my lady."

Jerica rolled her eyes, but Harold could see the victorious glint in them.

And for the first time, he actually felt ready.

-----

The day had come.

The D-day. The moment they had been waiting for—the day Jerica’s labor began.

Jared had been prepared for this. He had meticulously packed two bags—one for Jerica and one for himself—days ago. Every item had been checked and rechecked, from the essentials to the smallest comfort items she might need. He had rehearsed this moment in his head over and over again, preparing for every possible scenario. And yet, nothing could have truly prepared him for the reality of it.

The moment the contractions started, a mixture of excitement and sheer panic gripped him. This was it. Their baby was coming.

Once they arrived at the hospital and Jerica was settled into her room, only then did they inform their families. Lydia was the first to arrive.

She rushed in, pale, frantic, and barely functional. The moment she took Jerica’s hand, she clutched it as if letting go would mean losing her. But Lydia wasn’t just emotional—she was paranoid.

She was obsessive.

Within moments, she had personally vetted every nurse, every technician, every staff member who walked into the room. The hallways of the maternity ward were suddenly filled with Sutherland security personnel. She had checked and double-checked every detail of the hospital’s protocols, ensuring that no one could so much as breathe near Jerica or the baby without her approval.

And Jared understood. He truly did.

Lydia had been through hell. She had once given birth, only to have her baby cruelly stolen from her, switched at birth, lost for decades. It had nearly destroyed her. And now, she couldn’t allow that history to repeat itself. She couldn’t bear the thought of Jerica suffering the same pain she had endured.

But the problem was—Lydia wasn’t helping.

She was spiraling, her fear smothering rather than supporting Jerica. And that, Jared could not allow.

So, without hesitation, he picked up his phone and called the only person in the world who could handle Lydia—her husband, Arthur.

Arthur must have already predicted this moment because when he answered the phone, he didn’t even wait for Jared to speak.

"I’ll handle Lydia," Arthur said immediately, his voice calm and certain.

And within minutes, he was there.

Jared watched as Arthur gently but firmly escorted Lydia out of the room, whispering soothing words to her as she clung to his arm. Lydia didn’t resist. She didn’t fight back. She simply broke down, trembling. And in that moment, Jared felt a pang of sympathy for her. She wasn’t just a protective mother—she was a woman haunted by her past.

But Jerica needed peace, and now, she finally had it.

Then, the contractions intensified.

Jerica gasped, clutching Jared’s hand in a death grip. A wave of pain surged through her, and her entire body tensed.

Jared’s heart slammed against his ribs. He had never felt so utterly helpless in his life.

He had faced difficult trials, ruthless opponents, and high-pressure courtroom battles. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the terror of watching his wife writhe in pain while he stood there, completely unable to ease it.

Sweat beaded at his brow as he watched the monitors beep, the contraction intervals growing closer and closer together.

This was really happening.

Their baby was almost here.