Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 43: Internal Rivalry

Chapter 43: Internal Rivalry

Jared wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Lydia. His eyes lingered on the woman in a way that made Jerica’s stomach twist with discomfort. He wasn’t just admiring her like everyone else. His gaze was too focused, too intense.

Jerica’s heart pounded in her chest, a deep ache spreading through her. She held her breath, praying, just for a moment, that he would look at her, that he would see her standing there, waiting for him. She locked eyes with him across the room, willing him to come to her, to close the distance between them.

But Jared looked away. Deliberately.

He turned his back on her, not just physically but emotionally, as though he couldn’t bear to acknowledge her existence. He shifted his position, placing himself behind a group of people, obscuring her view. Jerica felt the sting of rejection cut through her like a knife.

It wasn’t the first time he had done this, but it was the first time she had truly felt it. Abandonment. The raw, visceral pain of being unwanted, standing in a room full of people yet feeling utterly alone. The lights seemed to dim, the laughter and chatter fading into a distant hum. The world around her blurred, leaving her standing in a bubble of isolation.

She blinked back tears, refusing to let them fall, forcing herself to smile when someone approached her with a warm greeting. But her heart wasn’t in it. Her heart was still with Jared, still aching from the cold distance he had put between them.

In that moment, Jerica realized something painful but true—no amount of wealth, no amount of prestige, no amount of social status could fill the void left by the absence of the one person she truly needed. The one person she loved more than anything.

Jared.

But as much as she loved him, as much as she needed him, she knew they were living parallel lives now. Two paths running side by side but never truly meeting. Forever close, yet forever apart.

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The gala had been meticulously planned, each detail polished and perfected to impress the who’s-who of the city. Every crystal chandelier overhead glittered like stardust, casting a soft glow across the elegantly dressed attendees, while the buzz of light chatter filled the grand ballroom.

On stage, the renowned talk show host, whose face had graced countless television screens, was effortlessly charming the crowd. His smooth cadence and practiced humor seemed to glide through the air, making the attendees feel both entertained and at ease.

Yet, despite the warm ambiance and the clinking of champagne flutes, Jerica Evans felt strangely out of place. Seated at her table, her hands rested lightly in her lap, but her mind was elsewhere, lost in a whirlwind of emotions she couldn’t quite pin down.

She had imagined this night so differently. On the drive over, Jerica had rehearsed the way it would all unfold—how Jared would see her, how his eyes would widen in surprise, a glimmer of admiration in their depths as he took in her carefully chosen gown, the one that hugged her curves in all the right places and shimmered like liquid gold under the lights.

She had imagined him offering his arm, and together they’d glide through the crowd like they belonged to each other, like a proper couple. They’d exchange pleasantries with everyone, showcasing their unity, making everyone envy them. That was the fantasy.

The reality? Jared had barely glanced in her direction, and the brief, disinterested smile he’d given her had felt like a formality, a gesture made out of obligation rather than affection.

Disappointed didn’t even begin to describe what she felt—it was something deeper, an ache that settled in her chest, a gnawing sense of loneliness that no amount of small talk or polite laughter could mask. The fantasy had been ripped apart, leaving behind the stark reminder that they were drifting further and further from the couple they had once been.

The sound of her name snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Let’s invite Ms. Jerica Evans to the stage!" the emcee’s voice boomed, followed by a round of enthusiastic applause.

Jerica blinked, her heart suddenly racing. The stage? she thought, bewildered. She hadn’t prepared for this. She hadn’t even known she was supposed to be speaking tonight. Her eyes scanned the room, her brain scrambling to piece together what was happening. She was being called to give a speech, and worse—she’d have to read the annual report afterward. She hadn’t so much as glanced at those numbers in months.

Her body moved on autopilot, rising from her seat as she tried to catch up with the situation. As she stood, her gaze fell on Susan, whose face was a picture of pure incredulity. Susan’s eyes were locked on her, a small crumpled piece of paper in her hand, and her expression flickered from shock to barely concealed anger. Jerica followed Susan’s line of sight to the back of the stage, where a shadowy figure ducked out of view, as if trying to hide from sight.

An internal rivalry within the foundation? Jerica thought, her mind suddenly sharp.

So that’s what this is.

She had distanced herself from the foundation for years, allowing Susan and the board to handle the operational aspects. Jerica had no idea what politics were brewing beneath the surface, but now, as she made her way to the stage, it was clear—someone had orchestrated this.

Perhaps they thought putting her in the spotlight would embarrass Susan, undermining her authority as interim CEO. Jerica hadn’t intended to step into this web of power plays, but here she was, the pawn of someone else’s game.

As she reached the stage, the lights bathed her in a soft, flattering glow. Her dress caught the light and shimmered, drawing a collective murmur of appreciation from the crowd. And then, just like that, the nerves vanished.

Public speaking had always been one of her strengths. Despite the surprise, she slipped into the role effortlessly, her voice steady and smooth as she thanked the donors, the staff, and everyone who had made the gala possible. She threw in a few light jokes, teasing about how she would keep her speech short, earning a wave of laughter from the audience.

From the outside, she probably looked poised, confident, in control. But inside, her heart was still racing, her thoughts still caught on Jared and the growing chasm between them.

She glanced out into the sea of faces, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but with the bright lights shining down on her, it was impossible to see beyond the first row. For a moment, she wondered if he was even watching.

"Doesn’t she look like she belongs there?" Harold’s voice grated against Jared’s ears, cutting through the hum of the crowd like a dull knife. His tone held the accusation that Jerica was being held back.

Jared stiffened, the sound of his old rival’s voice pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned, his face hardening as he saw Harold seated beside him, a smug grin plastered across his face.