Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 69: His Past(2)

Chapter 69: His Past(2)

"Do you want to know my past?" Jared asked.

Those golden-brown eyes held Jerica, pulling her in, rendering her thoughts helpless to the draw.

His gaze held a playful glint, a spark of a boyish mischief, yet behind it was something more dangerous, something that tightened the knot of emotions in her stomach. His hand found hers, pressing it gently to his cheek, grounding her as much as it was drawing her in.

"It hurts when you don’t let me in," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I’m not some delicate flower—I’m not even particularly moral or all that concerned with the law. I’d end up on your side in all of this. I’d probably even help you, whatever it is."

She wasn’t entirely sure of what was lurking in his life, in his mind, but she knew she would stand by him. That was the only certainty she held.

He let out a breath, rolling onto his back, his hand lifting to cradle her cheek. His thumb brushed along her skin, as if memorizing her face, his expression so heartbreakingly open, it hurt. "This... this is exactly what I’m afraid of," he murmured, his voice a quiet ache.

"And why is that wrong?" she asked, her voice gaining a tremor. "Why is it so hard for you to let me in, to let me help? You don’t even have to ask. I’m offering."

Jared exhaled slowly, then turned onto his side, pulling her into his arms, holding her close as if he could protect her from whatever storm was brewing inside him.

"Is it because I am a woman... You find it hard accepting help from a woman?" she asked. She didn’t think her husband was misogynic.

"A woman?" he scoffed.

Jerica’s heart skipped a beat wondering if she had offended him, but his sigh that followed was more of a sad one than an angry one.

"It’s because you’re my woman," he said. "You’re all I have left..." he whispered the last part so silently, like a whisper akin the gentle beat of his heart that sustained his life and yet no one heard ever so often.

Jerica still couldn’t understand him.

"Have I ever told you about my father?" he asked softly.

Jerica’s brows furrowed. "Only that he was a deadbeat." That was all she’d ever known—that one, solitary line he’d dropped years ago. She didn’t even know if Jared had ever truly known the man.

But her heart skipped a beat with expectation. Was he going to talk to her about his past?

A shadow passed over Jared’s face, darkening his features. "My mother was a refugee, desperate for a new life. She had nothing—nothing but her hope for something better. He saw that, used her loneliness to make her believe she was his whole world, his everything. Then I came along..." He paused, his fingers stroking through her hair absently.

"But the Braddock family refused to acknowledge me, pushed us both away. My mother did her best, but—"

"Braddock?" Her voice was a breathless exclamation, her body tense as the pieces began falling into place. She sat up straighter, her heart beating in her ears.

Braddock... as in Harold’s family?

A thousand wild thoughts raced through her mind, each more absurd than the last. Could Jared be Harold’s brother? Could they share the same father? A nauseous, surreal feeling swept over her.

Did I sleep with brothers?

Her mind spiraled in disbelief. She thought back to every moment she’d spent with Harold and Jared, every similarity she’d brushed off as coincidence, every hint she’d ignored.

What is my obsession with Braddock men? she thought, almost in despair. Of all the men out there...

"Are you... Harold’s brother?" she finally managed to ask, her voice barely audible.

Jared sat up, meeting her wide-eyed gaze, and, seeing her panic, gently held her cheeks. "Not brother," he assured her, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of an unburdened truth. "I’m his cousin."

Jerica’s relief was momentary, chased quickly by a fresh wave of shock. "You’re... Joseph Braddock’s son?" Her voice rose as the gravity of it hit her. "The Joseph Braddock? The man with the best chance of becoming our next president?"

Jared gave a rueful smile. "Technically, yes, though I’m nothing more than his... bastard son."

"Wait..." Her brows knitted together, each revelation unraveling the puzzle further. "Is that why the Braddock family is so determined to ruin you?" The resentment Harold held toward Jared suddenly made a painful amount of sense.

A shadow crossed Jared’s face as he regarded her with an intensity that shook her. "Are you... bothered that I’m Harold’s cousin?"

"Ah..." Jerica faltered, stunned by the sudden shift in his tone.

Before she could gather her thoughts, he reached behind her, his hand sliding to her back, and in a heartbeat, she was on the bed beneath him, his face hovering inches above hers.

His lips brushed against hers, not yet a kiss, but close enough to steal her breath. Her fingers curled into the sheets as his lips lingered, every nerve in her body humming with tension.

"When I found out you used to date Harold..." He trailed off, his voice raw. "I had no intention of telling you this. I cut ties with that family years ago, but I can’t change the blood that runs through my veins."

He finally claimed her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss, and when he pulled back, a flicker of uncertainty flashed across his face. "Does it... feel any different, knowing the truth?"

The quiver in his voice, that uncharacteristic vulnerability, sent a pang through her heart.

"No," she murmured, brushing her fingers along his jaw, her gaze steady and certain. "It doesn’t change anything." The past was complicated, yes, but what mattered was that she loved him. Jared. Not his name, not his history, just him.

Jared exhaled a shaky breath, the tension in his frame slowly melting as he pressed his forehead to hers. Then he captured her lips again, his kiss deepening, pulling her under the weight of emotions he had kept buried for so long.

When he finally broke away, she was left panting, her heart racing, her mind spinning from the intensity. His hand tightened in hers as he spoke, his voice thick with resolve. "That’s right," he said, gritting his teeth as if holding something primal back.

"You’re mine."

His lips found hers once more, a little fiercer, the words reverberating between them.

"I’m not letting you go."