Jerica blinked, pulling herself back to the present. The gala. She understood Lila’s excitent though. It was a high-profile event thanks to the few A-list celebrities being the patron who attend. The gala created news each year.
Jerica hadn’t attended in years, not since her mother’s passing. For her, it was just another reminder of everything she had tried to escape. The thought of returning to that world, where everyone still praised her mother and spoke of her like she was so sort of saint, was unbearable.
So people who knew her mother for who she was, hated her and showed it to her. After her mother’s death, Jerica didn’t want to be a part of that world anymore. She inherited the foundation as it was written clearly in her mother’s will. Jerica didn’t have the strength to handle it and appointed people to look after the foundation and all the charity work.
Jerica for now was just the Honorary Head of the Foundation.
A forced smile curved Jerica’s lips as she responded, "I haven’t been in a while. Too busy with life, you know?"
Lila’s enthusiasm faltered slightly, confusion flickering across her face. "Really? I just assud you’d be there every year, considering your connection to the foundation. I an, you’re practically part of its legacy."
Legacy. That word sent a chill down Jerica’s spine. Elizabeth Evans’ legacy was the one thing Jerica had worked so hard to distance herself from. The Radiant Spectrum Foundation, the gala, the endless praise and attention—it was all a reminder of the life she never wanted.
She used to bear with it when her mother was alive. She had no choice; also, she wanted to be part of Harold’s life forever. She needed that connection with the charity.
But her view changed totally when her parents died out of nowhere when she was eighteen.
"I suppose," Jerica replied carefully, her smile tight. "But I’ve been trying to focus on other things. The foundation... it’s in good hands. It doesn’t need ."
Jerica’s gaze drifted as Lila’s words faded into the background. Her mind spun, tangled in the mories and questions that had resurfaced. The life she had left behind—the foundation, her family’s legacy, her mother’s towering reputation—felt like a distant world she had willingly fled. But now, that world didn’t seem so far away. No matter how hard she tried to escape, it kept creeping back into her thoughts, seeping into her conversations, and worming its way into her present.
Blood ties were like that. Impossible to sever completely. They wound around her life like invisible chains, no matter how fast or far she ran. But talking to Lila today had offered her a new perspective, one she hadn’t allowed herself to consider for a long ti.
She had made choices at 25—choices she had been sure of back then. Marrying Jared, stepping away from the spotlight, carving out a life that was hers and hers alone. She had believed that by doing so, she would find the happiness and independence she so desperately craved. But now, years later, as cracks spread through her marriage and the life she had chosen seed more like a prison than a refuge, she couldn’t help but wonder: had she been wrong?
Her chest tightened as that thought sank in. What if she had been too hasty in rejecting everything her mother had built? What if, in her defiance, she had thrown away a life that could have been better than this?
The life she had now—filled with doubt, with secrets, with a marriage that felt like it was unraveling day by day—wasn’t what she had envisioned. Jerica thought she’d found freedom, but perhaps she had only traded one set of chains for another.
Was going back to the life she had left really such a terrible thought? What if the life she had run from wasn’t as suffocating as she had rembered? The gala, the foundation, the public image her mother had created—she had always despised those things for overshadowing her personal dreams. But what had those dreams beco? A marriage to Jared that felt like it was built on shaky ground, and a career that felt far less fulfilling than she’d imagined.
She swallowed, pushing down the lump that had risen in her throat. Was it pride that kept her from returning to that life? Pride that had convinced her that she didn’t want or need her mother’s legacy? She wasn’t sure anymore. What she did know was that the life she had chosen wasn’t good to her—not anymore.
Jerica’s thoughts drifted to her mother. Elizabeth had dedicated her life to helping others, to making a difference through the foundation. It wasn’t the glamorous part of her mother’s life that had bothered Jerica. No, it was the way her mother had forced Jerica into the role of "perfect daughter," the expectations that had weighed down on her so heavily. But Elizabeth had also been soone who changed lives, soone whose work mattered.
Could she find aning in that again? Could she, in so way, honor her mother’s mory while also finding a path that worked for her?
Jerica didn’t have the answer yet. But maybe... just maybe... going back didn’t have to an giving up the independence she had fought so hard for. Maybe there was a balance she could strike—a way to reclaim the parts of her past that were good while still forging her own identity.
-----
When Jerica arrived ho, the soft glow of the setting sun cast long shadows across her doorstep. As she neared the entrance, she was surprised to find two large boxes waiting for her, stacked neatly by the door. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she noticed the familiar label on top of the first box.
She fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door, balancing her purse as she bent down to pick up the boxes. Just as her fingers brushed against the cardboard, a shadow lood beside her, and before she could react, a pair of hands swiftly lifted the boxes.
Jerica blinked in surprise and turned to face the figure. Her eyes traveled up from the polished shoes to the tailored slacks and finally to the familiar face standing before her.
Reviews
All reviews (0)