Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love-Chapter 137: Defying Odds

"What if I’m not dying?" Jerica’s voice broke the silence, soft yet tinged with a vulnerability that gripped Jared’s heart.

Jared froze, her words pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. He turned to her, his hazel eyes wide with a mix of surprise and fragile hope. "What... what do you mean?" he asked gently, leaning closer, as though her answer could shatter if he approached it too hastily.

Jerica looked up at him, her eyes glassy and shimmering with a hesitant light, one that seemed foreign amidst the shadow of her illness. "What if the doctors were wrong? What if..." Her voice wavered, a flicker of possibility she was too scared to fully claim. But then, as if catching herself mid-dream, she shook her head with a bittersweet smile. "Never mind."

Jared reached out instinctively, pressing a kiss to her temple, his lips trembling against her warm skin. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer as if he could shield her from the cruel reality they’d been forced to face. The tears he’d tried to hold back spilled freely now, unbidden and unchecked.

"How wonderful would that be..." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. In that moment, he allowed himself to imagine it—to daydream about waking up from this nightmare. To see her vibrant and full of life again. It was the only thing he wanted in the world: for her to be healthy, to see her laugh without the weight of sickness pressing down on her.

Jerica leaned into his embrace, resting her head against his chest, her ear pressed to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It grounded her, calmed her in a way nothing else could. "I’m serious, Jared," she murmured. "I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t feel like I’m dying. Shouldn’t I feel it? Something... something inside telling me it’s the end?"

Jared’s arms tightened around her protectively. "You’ve been through so much, Jerica. Maybe you’re just trying to give yourself hope," he said softly, though even as he spoke, a part of him clung desperately to her words.

"I’m not saying I feel fine," she admitted, her voice trailing off. "But other than the fatigue... I don’t feel pain. I don’t feel anything that tells me it’s the end. What if it’s all in my head, Jared?"

He didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to believe her, wanted to grab onto any thread of hope, but he was too afraid to let himself. What if believing made the inevitable hurt even more?

The silence stretched between them until Jerica broke it again, her tone shifting, laced with a teasing vulnerability that belied the seriousness of her words. "Are you not going to sleep with me until I die?"

Jared stiffened, caught off guard. He glanced down at her incredulously, his brows furrowed. "Jerica, I..." He faltered, guilt spreading across his face like an open wound. He hadn’t thought she’d notice, but of course, she had. How foolish of him to think his sharp, intuitive wife wouldn’t figure it out.

"You’re avoiding it because you think you’ll hurt me, don’t you?" she continued, her tone soft but probing.

Jared sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I don’t want to make things worse for you. I can’t risk it, Jerica. You mean everything to me, and if I—"

Jerica placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. "I’m not fragile, Jared. I’m tired, yes. But I’m not broken." She shifted slightly, pressing her cheek against his chest. "I want this. Maybe not tonight, but I want it. I don’t want to leave this world without being close to you, without feeling connected... even if just once more."

Her words hit him like a tidal wave, the weight of her desires crashing into his guarded heart. He didn’t reply immediately, didn’t promise her anything, but his silence wasn’t rejection—it was the ache of a man caught between fear and love, between caution and the desperate need to give her everything she wanted.

They stayed in each other’s embrace for a long while, the silence between them heavy yet comforting. Jared’s fingers absentmindedly traced soothing circles on her back, their breathing syncing in a fragile rhythm.

"Do you think he’s listening... or watching us?" Jerica’s voice broke through the quiet, her words tinged with a faint unease.

Jared blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in focus. It took him a moment to realize she was talking about Arthur Sutherland. He frowned slightly. How could her mind leap to that right now?

Jerica, however, found the connection all too obvious. If she was thinking about being truly intimate with Jared—about taking back a part of herself that sickness and circumstance had stolen—it naturally raised the question of privacy. Privacy, which felt like a luxury in this sprawling, unfamiliar house where they were being kept under the guise of "protection."

"Maybe..." Jared finally replied, though his tone was hesitant. He didn’t think Arthur or anyone else was monitoring them, not to that extent. But could he be absolutely certain? He wasn’t sure anymore.

Jerica let out a dry, humorless laugh, though there was a slight tremor to it. "I mean, I can’t die," she said, her voice gaining a fragile intensity. "Not now. Not after everything I’ve just learned."

Jared tilted his head, his hazel eyes searching her face. "What do you mean?" he asked softly.

She looked up at him, her gaze steady but filled with a cocktail of emotions—anger, sorrow, confusion, and an almost defiant hope. "I just found out my mother cheated on my dad. That the man I thought was my father my whole life... isn’t. I’m not dying now, Jared. This truth didn’t come out just for me to die right after, right?"

Her words hit Jared like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t expected this revelation, but more than that, it was the raw desperation in her voice that broke him. She wasn’t just stating facts—she was clawing for reasons to live, for proof that her life still held meaning and unfinished stories.

Without a word, he pulled her tighter against him, his arms strong and steady, though his own resolve was beginning to fracture. He pressed his face into her hair, trying to mask the tears that escaped him. He didn’t want her to see how deeply her words cut. How could he save her when she wanted to live so badly? When she was fighting against her own body with nothing but sheer will?

"Yes," Jared whispered, his voice choked but resolute. "You’re right. You’re not going anywhere. This isn’t the end."

He didn’t know if he believed it entirely, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that she believed it, that she clung to that glimmer of hope.

Jerica relaxed against him, closing her eyes as his warmth surrounded her. For now, it was enough. Enough to hold onto the idea that maybe—just maybe—she could defy the odds. And for Jared, it was enough to keep fighting for her, no matter what it took.