Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 61: Summoned To Court

Chapter 61: Summoned To Court

As the sun began its slow descent on Sunday evening, Jerica and Jared returned home from the Hamptons. Jerica leaned back in her seat, eyes closed, savoring the lingering happiness from their weekend together.

The past two days had felt like a balm on her heart—simple, filled with warmth and laughter, yet profound enough to dissolve the resentments she’d carried for so long. It hadn’t taken much, really. Just Jared’s attentive, warm embrace, a reminder of who they’d once been together.

She’d forgotten just how much she yearned for his presence, his warmth, to feel like she was the only one he saw. Now, the bitterness seemed to have melted, leaving her with a glow that even Jared, lost in thought beside her, couldn’t dull.

The following morning, she headed to work with a light heart, only to feel a jolt of surprise upon seeing the old man from the other day waiting in the hallway. He looked eager, standing with an air of anticipation as if he’d been there for hours.

Despite her better judgment, Jerica had taken Jared’s advice and given him the records of another Elizabeth Evans, a minor detour from her usual meticulous honesty.

She could apologize later, if necessary, by claiming she’d made a simple clerical error. After all, who would question her? With a spotless record, Jerica was untouchable.

But something nagged at her. A shadow of suspicion crept in, a sense that Jared knew more about this man than he’d let on. Just as she was about to delve further, Jared had firmly asked her to let it go, dismissing her concerns with a quiet insistence that left her conflicted.

She resolved to shake it off for the day, even as her mind continued to wander back to that unusual interaction.

In the early afternoon, Jerica was startled by Harold’s familiar face appearing in the hallway. He glanced at her, a trace of something unspoken in his eyes. With a wry smile tugging at her lips, she led him into a quiet corner away from the bustling office.

"Well, I’m here in one piece," she said, crossing her arms with a hint of mischief. "Surprised, Harold? Or did you half-expect Jared to chop me up and stow me in the freezer?"

Her sarcasm aimed to lighten the tension, but Harold’s gaze settled somewhere just above her collarbone, where Jared’s lingering mark of affection peeked out.

Jerica’s cheeks flushed as she reflexively pulled her collar higher, though she knew Harold had already caught sight of it. She might have wanted to brag about the closeness she’d felt with Jared over the weekend, but flaunting it felt too crass—especially to Harold, who wore his heartache with such quiet dignity.

When he met her eyes again, there was a familiar sadness there, one that made her chest ache with an old, residual hurt. He was her friend, but his wistful expression made her wonder if he still held a piece of the heart even after everything that happened.

"Jerica," Harold murmured, his voice softened by a reluctant sadness. "My family isn’t giving up on this. They’re going to come after you."

"Meaning my husband," she corrected him, her voice unwavering.

She’d expected this. She had no skeletons that could be dragged from the closet; her past was clean—or buried deeply enough that even Harold wouldn’t find it.

Her only fear was Jared’s vulnerability, and his reluctance to let her in. She would stand beside him, but that required trust he still withheld. That, more than anything, pierced her heart.

Harold sighed, as if realizing once again that her sharp intellect was one of the things he could never dissuade. Her concern lay squarely on Jared, and that certainty seemed to sober him.

"Has he told you... everything?" Harold asked carefully, watching her reaction.

Jerica’s brow furrowed, and her curiosity stirred. "About what?"

For a moment, Harold hesitated, his gaze flickering as though grappling with something profound. He leaned closer and whispered, "His father—"

A sudden cough echoed sharply through the hall, startling them both. Jerica turned swiftly, catching sight of Jared standing nearby, watching them with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher.

Harold barely spared Jared a glance before straightening, his voice low but firm as he left her with a parting warning.

"Be prepared, Jerica."

She stared after Harold, distracted by his cryptic words. She’d missed the flash of anger in Jared’s gaze, but when she looked back at him, his expression had softened into a serene smile, as though masking an unspoken tension.

At that moment, Regina emerged from her office, and instinctively, Jerica sidestepped away from Jared. She’d grown accustomed to concealing their relationship at work, respecting his desire for privacy. Only a handful of people in the office knew, and even then, they kept their distance.

It was a painful reality she’d gradually adapted to, much like an old scar hidden beneath layers of self-restraint. Maybe she should confront him about it. Why should they hide their relationship?

After lunch, Jerica was returning to the record room to finish sorting files when a young man approached, handing her an envelope.

"You’ve been served," he said before darting off.

A frown settled on her face as she examined the envelope, curiosity mingling with a touch of alarm. She tore it open, and her eyes widened at the contents: a subpoena, summoning her to court immediately.

Her pulse quickened, scanning the name of the attorney and then the presiding judge. As recognition dawned, her lips curved into a smirk.

Oh, someone made a mistake.

Straightening her posture, she tucked the subpoena into her purse and made her way to the courthouse, a sense of resolve steadying her nerves. Whatever was going on, she was prepared to face it.

The courtroom was sparsely populated when she entered, her heels clicking against the polished floor. But the sight that awaited her struck like a punch to the gut.

There, seated at the defense table, was Jared.

Her mind reeled, questions swirling like a storm as she made her way to the front. Jared didn’t meet her gaze, but his posture was unmistakably tense, his jaw set, his hands gripping the edge of the table tightly.

What is going on?