Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 32: His Mother’s Question

Chapter 32: His Mother’s Question

Jared gave her a puzzled glance but complied. "Mom likes the poppyseed rolls from this place," Jerica explained as she stepped out of the car.

Jared watched her, something stirring in his chest. He hadn’t known that. He hadn’t known his mother had a favorite food. The woman he remembered was someone who savored everything without preference, treating each meal like a necessity, not a luxury. And yet, here was Jerica, knowing things about his mother that he didn’t.

As she returned with the rolls, Jared felt something in him soften. How many times had Jerica visited his mother without him? How much effort had she put into understanding a woman he had always seen as an impenetrable force? He was in awe of her patience and the quiet, careful way she loved, even when it went unnoticed.

They made another stop at a liquor store, and Jerica smirked as she poured vodka into a water bottle. Jared shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "She has you sneaking in vodka now?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Jerica shrugged, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "She says it’s for medicinal purposes."

Jared couldn’t help but laugh softly. His mother had always been a force to be reckoned with, and it seemed Jerica had become her partner in crime. "Anything else?" he asked.

"Get some flowers for your mother," Jerica suggested.

He hesitated. Victoria had always chastised him for wasting money on things like flowers. "They’ll wither anyway," she’d say, but Jerica was already giving him that look—the one that told him he had no choice.

He returned with sunflowers, passing them to Jerica.

"She likes carnations," she remarked with a small smile, but she took the sunflowers without complaint.

The rest of the drive was peaceful, the cool breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers through the open windows. Jerica let her mind drift as the countryside rolled by. She loved these quiet moments, where she could lose herself in the beauty around her, and Jared didn’t interrupt.

It was one of the things she had fallen in love with—the way they could exist together in silence without it feeling empty.

At the hospice, Jerica carried the flowers and snacks, giving Jared the bouquet. "No one should visit their mother empty-handed," she teased lightly.

Inside, they found Victoria by the window, her sharp eyes softening as Jerica approached. "Mom," Jerica greeted warmly, bending down to hug and kiss her cheeks.

Jared stood back, stunned. His mother wasn’t one for affection, yet here she was, accepting Jerica’s warmth without hesitation. He handed her the bouquet, expecting a scolding, but Victoria merely glanced at the sunflowers and nodded.

"The sunflowers brighten the room. Jared picked the right flowers for you, Mom," Jerica said, her voice light as she handed over the treats. "I’ll get a vase..."

The moment Jerica left the room, the warmth in Victoria’s eyes vanished, replaced by the familiar stoic expression Jared knew too well. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

The air in the room felt heavy as Victoria’s sharp words cut through the silence. "You’re still on with your little quest?" she asked, her voice like ice, eyes narrowing as she turned toward her son.

Jared shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the weight of his mother’s scrutiny pressing down on him. He had expected a difficult conversation, but not like this. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Mother, I—"

"Let that poor girl go," Victoria interrupted, her tone final, her gaze flicking to the door through which Jerica had just stepped. "She deserves better."

The statement landed like a blow, each word driving deeper into his chest. Jared sat back, momentarily speechless, his mind wrestling with the gravity of her words. He wasn’t one to let his mother’s judgments shake him—he had fought for his life, his career, and his marriage, despite her initial disapproval—but something in the way she spoke made him falter.

Victoria had never approved of their union in the beginning. The wealth Jerica came from, the comfort she had known, had always been a point of contention. His mother, having clawed her way up from nothing as an immigrant, believed that only someone from a similar background could truly understand Jared’s ambition and the relentless work ethic he’d inherited. But over time, as much as she tried to hide it, Victoria’s opinion of Jerica had shifted.

It was as though his mother had finally seen Jerica for who she was—selfless, kind, determined. Now, Jared could sense it: Victoria thought Jerica was wasted on him.

Jared’s jaw tightened, his hands clenched into fists as he looked down at his feet. "I cannot let her go, mother," he said, his voice firm despite the quiet devastation behind it. This was the one thing he couldn’t concede, the line he wouldn’t cross. He hadn’t backed down four years ago when his mother refused to bless their marriage, and his conviction remained unshaken now.

Victoria’s lips thinned, her expression hardening. "Then let go of your useless ambitions," she demanded, her voice steely and unyielding. "Live."

Jared’s face tensed as the words settled in the air between them. The suggestion stung, not just because of what she was asking him to do, but because of the underlying accusation behind it. Live? As if his entire life had been a hollow pursuit of power and status. As if he hadn’t done it for her and for the family he had always longed to build.

"I’m so close," he whispered, more to himself than to her, his eyes dark with determination. His career, his reputation, everything he had built, all to get that one thing—that thing that was almost within reach. He wasn’t about to walk away now.

Victoria’s eyes flashed with anger, her body tense despite the frailty of her illness. "Did you marry her for her position?" she demanded, her voice rising. "Is she still useful to you?"

The question hung in the air like a dark cloud, suffocating the space between them. Jared’s throat tightened. His mind scrambled for a response, but his mouth remained dry. He had nothing to say, not because he agreed, but because her words struck too close to something he hadn’t been ready to face.

Was that what he had become? Had he lost sight of the man who fell in love with Jerica’s fierce independence, her wit, her warmth?

Victoria’s eyes bore into him, a fire smoldering in her gaze at his silence. "You’re no different from them," she spat, her voice dripping with disgust. She turned her head toward the window, dismissing him entirely. She didn’t even have the strength to look at him anymore.

Jared felt the room closing in around him, the silence between them suffocating. His mother had always been distant, tough, and resolute. She had raised him alone, and while he respected her strength, there had always been an emotional wall between them—one neither of them had ever learned to tear down. This, though, felt like a new distance, a chasm that might never be bridged again.