Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 45: The Scandal

Chapter 45: The Scandal

Unable to stand the stifling atmosphere any longer, Jerica excused herself and headed to the restroom. She needed a moment alone, a reprieve from the judging eyes and the oppressive weight of the evening. But as she rounded the corner, her path was blocked.

Hannah Braddock.

The name alone sent a chill through Jerica. Memories of cruel words and thinly veiled insults came rushing back, words spoken at her parents’ funeral—words that had pierced her already shattered heart. Jerica forced a smile, the kind she had perfected over the years, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes.

"You’re doing well now, it seems," Hannah said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, her eyes darting to Jerica’s hand.

Jerica’s lips trembled as she fought to maintain the smile, but she managed. "Yes, I am," she replied, her tone measured, polite. But her heart pounded in her chest, each beat a reminder of the pain this woman had caused.

Hannah’s gaze lingered on Jerica’s engagement ring, and before Jerica could pull her hand away, Hannah reached out and held it up for closer inspection. "That’s a big ring," she remarked, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something more.

Jerica’s stomach twisted as a crowd of onlookers formed around her, drawn to Hannah’s sudden interest in her. She felt like she was on display, her every move scrutinized.

"Yes," Jerica forced herself to respond, raising her chin slightly, showing off the ring with as much pride as she could muster. The pear-shaped diamond glittered under the lights, set in an intricate blend of gold and platinum—a ring that had meant everything to her once. It was close to her heart, a symbol of Jared’s love, a love that had felt so true when he had proposed. She hadn’t expected Jared, ever practical and reserved, to choose such a lavish ring. But he had, and she had adored him for it.

But now, as she looked down at the ring, a bittersweet pang settled in her chest. The love was still there, buried beneath layers of confusion and pain, but it was harder to grasp. Harder to hold onto.

Jerica’s eyes wandered across the room, searching for the one person who could ground her in this moment. Jared. She found him standing at a distance, engaged in conversation but glancing in her direction. She met his eyes, her gaze soft, pleading for him to come to her, to stand by her side, to help her navigate this sea of judgment and scrutiny.

For a second, Jared looked back at her, their eyes locking in what felt like a lifeline. But then, just as quickly, he turned away. He broke the connection. His back now to her, as if he didn’t care.

The rejection hit her like a blow, a heavy weight sinking in her chest. Jerica swallowed the lump in her throat, her pride the only thing keeping her from breaking down. She muttered a polite excuse to the growing crowd around her, her voice barely above a whisper, and slipped away toward the powder room, desperate for solitude.

Once inside, she locked herself in a stall, her breathing ragged as she tried to collect herself. Her hands shook as she pressed them to her face, willing herself not to cry. What did Jared expect her to do? How could she bridge the ever-widening gap between them when he wouldn’t even acknowledge her when she needed him most?

After several long moments, Jerica emerged from the stall, her reflection in the mirror a stark reminder of how much she had to hold together. She washed her hands, the cool water grounding her, and took a deep breath. But just as she began to fix her makeup, she noticed movement behind her.

It was the two women from earlier—the ones who had been sneaking glances and whispering during Susan’s speech. They entered the bathroom, their conversation hushed until they noticed Jerica.

One of them, a girl with a fruity voice and sharp eyes, stepped closer. Far too close. Jerica tensed, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. The girl’s presence radiated a kind of smug arrogance that instantly set Jerica on edge.

"I have something to say to you, Ms. Evans," the girl began, her tone dripping with forced politeness. "First of all—"

"First of all," Jerica interrupted, her voice firm and laced with authority, "the polite thing would be to introduce yourselves when you address me by my name."

The girl’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by Jerica’s directness. For a moment, both girls seemed startled, a flicker of fear flashing in their eyes. But they quickly recovered, their expressions hardening once more.

"I’m Aria Fernandes," the girl with the fruity voice replied, a slight edge to her tone now. "I’m the foundation’s accountant’s assistant. This is Gabby Johnson, the PA of the accountant."

Jerica raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. An accountant with a personal assistant? That was unusual. When her mother had run the foundation, she had always been careful to keep staff minimal, ensuring that every dollar was spent wisely on the causes they supported, not on an unnecessary bureaucracy.

"I see," Jerica said, her voice measured, though her mind was already running through the implications. "And why were you trying to meet with me?"

Aria exchanged a quick glance with Gabby, both of them seeming to conspire silently. Jerica leaned back against the counter, amused by their theatrics.

"Susan Whitaker is bad for the foundation," Aria finally said, her voice dropping as if she were revealing some great secret.

Jerica almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. So this was their big revelation? A smear campaign against Susan?

Of course, she wasn’t surprised.

Jerica wanted to dismiss the girls as nothing more than gossips fueled by jealousy, but something in their urgency—especially the gravity of the accusation—gave her pause. She had always respected Susan; every interaction had been polite, professional, and full of promise for the foundation’s future. Yet the words skimming the foundation’s money echoed in her mind, leaving her unsettled.

"I have proof Susan is colluding with Mr. Lawson and skimming the foundation’s money," Aria said, her voice steady but edged with conviction.

Jerica’s casual demeanor vanished in an instant. Her eyes hardened as she studied Aria’s face. This was no longer idle gossip—this was an accusation that could destroy careers, the foundation, and possibly Susan’s life. It wasn’t something she could afford to dismiss, but at the same time, she couldn’t act impulsively based on claims from two girls she barely knew.

"I have all the details... right here." Aria’s hand trembled slightly as she pulled out her phone and opened a file. "This past year alone, they’ve skimmed around seven million."