Mr Melendez,Your Wife Wants Divorce Long ago novel Chapter 369

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

**Chapter 369**

He had sent her a message, hoping to convey everything he felt, yet his phone remained silent. The lack of response gnawed at him, leaving an unsettling void in his chest.

All he wanted was to see her, to stand before her and articulate the emotions swirling within him.

As he lay on the hospital bed, a nurse entered the room to check Jayceon’s temperature. He seized the moment, asking, “Is Arabella off for the day yet?”

The nurse, busy with her duties, shook her head. “I’m not sure, sorry,” she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of distraction.

From the corner of the room, Samuel, who had been lounging on the sofa, suddenly sat up straight. “Don’t waste your time looking for her. She’s not here at the hospital,” he declared, his tone matter-of-fact.

Jayceon’s gaze flickered to the clock on the wall; it was still early, far too early for Arabella to have finished her shift.

“Where is she then?” Jayceon pressed, a knot forming in his stomach.

Samuel sighed, as if this were a well-known tale. “She’s at Vance Manor, playing poker. Just lost three hands in a row and texted me asking for a bail-out.”

The moment those words left Samuel’s lips, Jayceon felt the thermometer in his hand snap, a small explosion of frustration.

Arabella was at Vance Manor, indulging in a game of chance while he lay here, wounded and vulnerable. The thought twisted his insides. How could she have the audacity to play poker when he had risked everything to save her?

He lay back against the pillow, a dull ache settling deep within his heart.

Samuel stood up, slipping on his jacket with purpose. “She just messaged again. I really need to get over there. She never wins when she plays against that troll,” he said, his voice tinged with concern for Arabella’s financial state.

Jayceon remained silent, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have been.

Noticing Jayceon’s despondent state, Samuel let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t be like this, Jay. You’ll eventually adjust to life without her,” he said, trying to offer some semblance of comfort.

As Samuel exited, Jayceon heard the door click shut, and he slowly opened his eyes, letting the weight of reality settle upon him.

Three years of marriage to Arabella had passed in a blur. He had been so absorbed in his career and a whirlwind of social obligations that he had lost sight of what truly mattered.

Arabella had always been there, waiting for him—during the day, through the long nights. She was the one who remained steadfast, even as he drifted further away.

After Georgina and her son returned to the country, he had unwittingly pushed Arabella even further into the shadows of his life.

The toll of his decisions weighed heavily on him. Arabella had cried, thrown tantrums, and had countless breakdowns, each episode a silent scream for help that he had ignored. Their relationship had deteriorated to the brink of divorce, and now, he could see the devastation his actions had wrought.

He had stifled her emotions, suffocated her spirit, and now he was left to grapple with the consequences of his choices.

He had always approached problems with his own solutions, ignoring what Arabella truly required.

He had disregarded his mother’s wise counsel, ultimately destroying his own marriage through his negligence.

He felt the weight of his mistakes pressing down on him, each one a reminder of his failures.

Tabitha, her voice soft and soothing, tried to reason with him. “Arabella is doing well now. You need to let her go and stop being so stubborn.”

Jayceon’s throat tightened, and it took him a moment to find his voice. “Mom, I know I was wrong, and I promise I’ll change, but I can’t just give her up,” he confessed, desperation lacing his words.

The mere thought of never seeing Arabella again sent tremors of fear through him.

Faced with her son’s stubborn resolve, Tabitha felt helpless.

Days turned into a blur as Jayceon lay in his hospital room, mired in melancholy as he recovered from his injuries.

Each day, he found himself staring longingly at the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Arabella walking through it, but she never came.

Time slipped away, and before he knew it, the day of his discharge had arrived.

As he stepped outside the hospital, the sun warmed his face, but his heart felt heavy. He caught sight of Arabella from a distance, radiant in a white dress, holding Edmundo’s hand as they stood beside Franklin’s sleek black Maybach. The sight pierced him like a dagger, a bittersweet reminder of all he had lost.