Mr Melendez,Your Wife Wants Divorce Long ago novel Chapter 155

**Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
By J.S. Caldwell

**Chapter 155**

Jayceon felt a constricting weight in his chest, a sensation that was both familiar and unsettling. He took a long, defiant drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling into the air like his swirling thoughts. “There’s absolutely no way I’m going to divorce Arabella for Georgina and her son,” he declared, his voice firm yet laced with uncertainty.

Samuel let out a heavy sigh, the kind that spoke volumes. “Jay, have you really not noticed? Arabella doesn’t love you anymore,” he said, his tone almost pitying.

The two men locked eyes, an unspoken tension hanging between them like a thick fog. Jayceon’s expression darkened, shadows dancing across his face. “She wouldn’t,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it aloud would make it true.

Samuel couldn’t help but chuckle, a hint of mockery in his laughter. “You really have no clue, do you? She was so calm when she told me you were off with Georgina and her kid tonight. And the way she was laughing and playing drinking games with that troll? It was like she was celebrating your absence.”

Silence enveloped them once more, thick and suffocating. Jayceon felt the weight of Samuel’s words settle heavily on his shoulders.

“If she still loved you,” Samuel pressed, “why would she push you into Georgina’s arms?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You don’t love Arabella, do you? Can you honestly stand the thought of her being with another man?”

After Samuel left, Jayceon found himself wandering to the balcony, the cool night air wrapping around him like a shroud as he lit another cigarette. The truth gnawed at him, an unwelcome guest in his mind. He admitted it to himself—he didn’t love Arabella. But the thought of her with someone else? That was a different story entirely.

As dawn broke, the clock ticked relentlessly towards five in the morning, and Jayceon was still wide awake. Arabella hadn’t returned home yet, and a gnawing worry began to creep into his mind. This was the second time in recent memory that her phone had been off, and she had stayed out all night without a word.

At precisely six in the morning, his phone rang, the name Oliver flashing across the screen. “Jayceon, your grandfather has fallen and been taken to the hospital,” Oliver’s voice was grave, and it sent a jolt of panic through Jayceon.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Jayceon was met with the sight of the entire Melendez family gathered in the waiting room, their expressions a mixture of concern and anxiety.

Inside the hospital room, Conrad looked up from his seat, his voice low but filled with urgency. “Jay, why are you the only one here?” he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

Jayceon cast his gaze downward, his silence speaking volumes.

Tabitha, ever the peacemaker, interjected, “It’s not unusual for young people to struggle with waking up early. We’ve got everything under control here.”

Conrad’s frustration flared as he snapped at Jayceon, “Your grandfather is in the hospital, and she can just sleep through it? Call her right now and have her bring breakfast over.”

The exhaustion etched on Jayceon’s face was palpable. “Dad, I’ll have her come over later,” he replied, trying to diffuse the situation.

Noticing the tension radiating from her brother, Kimberly took it upon herself to reach out, dialing Arabella’s number. The room fell silent as everyone listened intently; Arabella’s phone was off.

Conrad turned to Tabitha, his voice stern. “Call Oliver and have him go get her in person.”

Jayceon’s face remained impassive. “Yesterday was Christmas Eve. Arabella had a few too many drinks with her parents,” he explained, his tone clipped.

Before his parents could respond, he added, “She’s no help here. I’m taking her home.”

With that, Jayceon led Arabella out of the hospital room, urgency propelling them forward.

Once they reached the elevator, Jayceon’s frustration boiled over. He yanked the jacket off Arabella and tossed it into the trash, a symbolic act of his anger.

Arabella, startled, turned to retrieve it, but Jayceon, determined, bent down and hoisted her over his shoulder, carrying her into the elevator as if she were a child.

Back at their home, Jayceon wasted no time. He pushed Arabella straight into the bathroom, his intentions clear. She may not have been fully sober, but she understood the implications of her actions. She had spent the night out, returned inebriated, and was wearing another man’s jacket. To Jayceon, it screamed betrayal.

Arabella took a shower, the water cascading over her as she tried to wash away the remnants of the night. After changing into her pajamas and drying her hair, she emerged from the bathroom, her demeanor more relaxed, yet she immediately sensed the tension in the room.

Jayceon was perched on the edge of the bed, his face a stormy sea of emotions as he glared at her, disappointment etched in every line of his expression.

With a lightness that belied the gravity of the situation, Arabella approached him. “I know you want to argue with me, but can we hold off for a bit? Let me get some sleep first. When I wake up, we can fight all you want,” she said, her tone teasing yet earnest, hoping to diffuse the tension that crackled in the air between them.