Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 28: Silent Appreciation

Chapter 28: Silent Appreciation

That evening, Jerica stood by the door, nervously fidgeting with the handle as she glanced at the clock. She was excited about dinner, hopeful that maybe tonight she and Jared could reconnect.

They hadn’t had a real conversation, not since that unexpected moment in the record room when Jared had pulled her close. That brief, heated encounter had awakened something in her—a flicker of desire and hope she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Tonight, maybe they could rekindle that spark. Maybe over a hearty meal, they could find their way back to each other.

She had already started planning the conversation in her head. They could talk, laugh like they used to, maybe even—

"Jerica," Jared’s voice interrupted her thoughts as she walked into the living room. He was standing there, holding up two ties—one in each hand, his face expectant.

"This one or this one?" he asked, completely oblivious to the evening she had envisioned.

She blinked, taken aback. "Dinner party?" she asked, a little disappointed.

Jared was wearing one of his linen shirts—unironed and wrinkled, as usual. At least, he shaved. She couldn’t help but notice how disheveled he looked, though it wasn’t new.

Jared rarely cared about his appearance. The man could be devastatingly handsome if he put even an ounce of effort into it, but he never did. She used to wonder why, but over the years, she’d come to realize that Jared had always placed more weight on his abilities than his looks.

In his mind, appearance didn’t matter, only skill.

But Jerica knew better. She had grown up in a world where appearances were everything, where a well-pressed suit and a polished demeanor were not just accessories but necessities. In the upper echelons of society, where reputations were built and destroyed by first impressions, clothes weren’t just fabric—they were armor.

"It’s Judge Branson’s daughter’s wedding," Jared said, still holding the ties in front of him like a child unsure of which toy to pick.

Jerica’s heart sank. A wedding? She felt a pang of sadness. Weddings were the kind of events where people brought their spouses—shared in the joy, danced, and toasted to the future. But Jared had never once brought her to anything, not even events like this. He moved through the world as though he were a solitary force, independent and detached.

It hurt. It always had.

"Formal event?" she asked, the disappointment laced in her voice as she suppressed the rising bitterness.

"No, semi-formal. Actually, the reception is on a yacht," he replied, glancing at his watch. "I can make it if I rush."

She stared at him, her fingers gripping her purse a little tighter. He wasn’t even planning on being late for this, but he was fine with leaving her behind without a second thought. She felt a familiar ache bloom in her chest, the same ache that came every time he walked out the door, leaving her behind in the shadows of his life.

But that was the dynamic between them. Even when they had first started dating, Jared rarely brought her along to any of the parties or events he attended. After they got married, nothing changed. She had always been on the periphery of his life, watching as he navigated it without her.

"Let me see the ties," she said, her voice steady, even though a part of her wanted to scream at him. She pushed past him, heading straight to the closet, already planning on fixing his entire outfit. If he was going to leave her behind, at least he wouldn’t do it looking like a wrinkled mess.

Jared followed her, still holding the ties. "But I’m late, Jerica. Just pick a tie."

Ignoring his protest, she rummaged through his wardrobe, her movements quick and precise. She pulled out a crisp beige polo shirt, a pair of tailored tan trousers, and a navy blazer that she knew would fit him perfectly. "Change into this," she said, not giving him any room for argument.

"But the tie..." Jared started, his voice trailing off when she turned and gave him that look

. He knew better than to argue when she looked at him like that—stern, resolute, and absolutely determined to have her way.

Silently, Jared set the ties down and began to undress. Jerica, her attention already shifting, grabbed his brown belt and polished brown Oxfords. She knew he didn’t like wearing brown shoes, but they would pair perfectly with the outfit. She was meticulous, her fingers moving deftly as she polished his shoes, making sure they gleamed under the light.

As Jared finished dressing, she handed him a matching brown leather watch, the one she’d gotten him as an anniversary gift, though he rarely wore it. She watched as he slid it on, and when he was done, he stepped in front of the vanity to check himself in the mirror.

He froze, his reflection catching him off guard. He looked different—polished, put together. The wrinkled, carefree man who had stood in the hallway minutes ago was gone, replaced by someone who exuded confidence and sophistication.

Jared stared at himself, momentarily stunned by the transformation. But then his lips curved to a smile.

As expected from his wife...

Jerica stood a few feet behind him, arms crossed, observing his reaction with a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He looked good, and she knew it. Deep down, Jared knew it too.

"Wow," Jared muttered under his breath, still staring at his reflection. "I... I look... really good."

Jerica allowed herself a moment of pride. "You’re welcome," she said, her tone soft but teasing.

Jared turned to her, and for a brief second, their eyes met—his gaze softening in a way she hadn’t seen in months. There was something unspoken there, a silent appreciation. It was in moments like this, however fleeting, that Jerica could almost believe they could find their way back to each other.

But the moment didn’t last. Jared checked his watch again and sighed, the urgency of his evening plans pulling him back into his usual rushed demeanor. "I’ve really got to go," he said, "Thanks, Jerica."

Without another word, he was gone, heading for the door, leaving her standing in the middle of their bedroom, holding the remnants of what she had hoped would be a shared evening.

That night, Jerica did the laundry, finally.

------

Jared’s face darkened the moment he stepped onto the elegant yacht where the wedding reception was already in full swing. Lights glittered along the deck, casting a soft glow over the well-dressed guests mingling with champagne in hand. But none of it registered in his mind. His jaw clenched as his eyes landed on Harold Braddock, whose signature bright smile stretched across his face like he owned the world.

Of all the people to run into tonight, it had to be him.