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Jared.

Jerica blinked in disbelief as she saw Jared standing at the door, casually carrying the two large boxes. He was ho early—far earlier than usual—and the sight of him threw her off balance.

Jared, ever the picture of calm efficiency, moved inside with a practiced ease. He didn’t look at her, didn’t greet her with any warm acknowledgnt. He simply carried the boxes straight into the kitchen. Feeling a strange tightness in her chest, Jerica closed the door and followed him, silently observing his every move.

When she entered the kitchen, Jared was already opening the boxes, his hands deftly tearing through the packing tape. Jerica recognized the labels imdiately—produce from the Walsh family, caretakers of their sumr ho in the East Hamptons. Strawberries, honey, and a variety of other organic goods filled the boxes.

For years, the Walsh family had sent them the best of their crops, a yearly tradition Jerica had once looked forward to.

The sumr ho had always held a special place in Jerica’s heart. After her parents died, she couldn’t bear the weight of staying in her childhood ho, filled with mories too painful to confront. She had rented it out, detaching herself from a place that never once felt like her world.

But the sumr ho—that was different. It was a haven. A sanctuary of good mories, of carefree sumrs with friends, where life seed simpler and brighter.

She used to visit often, basking in the quiet and solitude the Hamptons offered. But after she married Jared, those visits beca less frequent, almost nonexistent.

She’d ntioned the house to him, hoping to share that special place with her new husband. But Jared had seed disinterested, even disdainful. It was as if her wealth, her family’s legacy, made him uncomfortable.

He never outright admitted it, but she could feel the weight of his unspoken judgnts. His pride, his refusal to accept anything from her, had led them to live in a rented apartnt—far from the ho she had once dread of building together.

"Strawberries this year, huh?" Jared’s voice cut through her thoughts as he held up a container, his face lighting up in a way she hadn’t seen in months. Little did she knew that his face brightened up thinking that she loved strawberries.

"And honey too!" His tone had an unexpected warmth to it, as if the simple pleasures of fresh produce were enough to bring out a spark of life in him.

Jerica watched as he unpacked the rest of the items with enthusiasm. "I’ll make jam this weekend," he said, almost to himself, his excitent palpable. He would be able to see her enjoying the jam.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t have the energy. How could he be so animated about strawberries and honey but not about her? How could he find joy in these small, fleeting things when their marriage was crumbling? It felt like such a cruel irony, the way he reserved his enthusiasm for everything but their relationship.

As she turned to head to the bedroom, his voice stopped her. "Jerica," Jared called, his tone softer than usual. She paused in the doorway, turning to face him. "Do you want to stay at your sumr ho this weekend?" His voice carried a note of sothing unfamiliar—almost pleading.

Jerica blinked, unsure how to respond. The sudden shift in his deanor, the suggestion itself—it felt so out of place, so unexpected. For months, Jared had been distant, cold, as if he’d checked out of their marriage entirely. Now, here he was, offering to spend the weekend together at her sumr ho? A place he’d never visited before?

"My sumr ho?" she echoed, unable to mask the bitterness in her voice. Shouldn’t it be their ho by now?

Jared either didn’t notice or chose to ignore the undercurrent of her words. "This weekend," he repeated, though his earlier excitent had already begun to fade. Before Jerica could respond, he added, "But before that, I was invited to a gala on Friday."

Jerica’s breath caught in her throat. A gala? This Friday?

"The Radiant Spectrum Foundation gala?" she asked, her voice strained. Her mother’s foundation. The event she had avoided year after year since her mother’s death. Jared had never shown any interest in attending before. In fact, he had always seed content to let her navigate the legacy of her family on her own.

Jared nodded. "It’s the first ti I’ve been invited." He smiled briefly, a flicker of excitent crossing his face before his expression turned serious. "I’m actually looking forward to it."

Jerica’s heart fluttered. Was this it? Was he inviting her to go with him? Could this be the olive branch, the step toward fixing what had been broken between them? Was he taking this invite because he thought he earned it?

The possibility filled her with hope. For the first ti in what felt like forever, Jared was including her in his plans, ntioning sothing that mattered to her. Maybe this was the start of sothing new—a chance to rekindle the closeness they had lost.

-----

By Friday evening, Jerica was practically buzzing with anticipation. She had carefully stead her gown, laid out her jewelry, and even put in her contact lenses—sothing she hated doing but had done for the sake of the evening. It was a black-tie event, and Jerica had pulled out all the stops, filled with a rare excitent she hadn’t felt in years.

As she finished up her makeup, she felt a pang of giddiness. Jared had been so odd lately, but the idea of attending the gala together—it was almost too good to be true. She had avoided the foundation’s events for so long, but if Jared wanted her there, maybe it was ti to go back.

She even helped Jared with his tuxedo, adjusting his bow tie and smoothing out the fabric with gentle hands. There was a mont, brief and fleeting, where her heart swelled with a kind of tender affection she hadn’t felt in so long.

Maybe this would be their night, the night they began to rebuild what was broken. All she had to do was the wear her dress and join him.

But then Jared’s words shattered her fragile hope.

"I’ll leave now. Wish luck," he said casually, picking up his jacket.

Jerica’s heart dropped.

Of course, he’s going alone!

She forced a smile, her voice barely above a whisper. "Good luck," she said, her heart breaking with every syllable.

And just like that, Jared left, walking out the door with the sa ease he had walked in, leaving Jerica standing alone in their rented apartnt, her beautiful gown hanging untouched in the closet.

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