Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 124

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

**Chapter 124**

With a gentle grace, Jayceon’s slender fingers swept away the errant strands of hair that clung to Arabella’s forehead. He drew her closer, enveloping her in his arms, feeling the frailness of her form against him. It had only been six months since they last shared a moment, yet the distance had transformed her; her body felt alarmingly thin, her bones sharp like the edges of fragile glass.

“Mrs. Melendez, welcome home,” he whispered softly, his voice imbued with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the chill of the room.

As the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, Arabella stirred awake, her head spinning from the remnants of last night’s events. She blinked against the brightness, her body heavy with exhaustion, and just as she was about to muster the strength to rise, she caught sight of Jayceon. He emerged from the closet, impeccably dressed, a stark reminder of the life they had once shared.

His gaze met hers, and she could feel the tension in the air crackle. “You fainted last night from low blood sugar,” he stated, his tone calm, almost too composed for the circumstances.

As memories rushed back, a shadow of pain crossed Arabella’s delicate features. She felt a wave of vulnerability wash over her, and Jayceon, ever observant, noted every flicker of emotion that danced across her face. “Do you remember what I told you last night? Go home and think it over carefully,” he urged, his voice steady yet laced with an undercurrent of concern.

Arabella swung her legs over the side of the bed, her pallor striking and heart-wrenching. “Jayceon, this is the only life I have left. You might as well take it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a haunting resignation.

Jayceon’s response was chilling, “A human life is the most worthless thing in my eyes.”

They locked eyes, a silent battle of wills passing between them, until Arabella turned away, leaving the sanctuary of the master bedroom behind her.

As she passed through the dining area, Jayceon called out, halting her in her tracks. “I’ve prepared some Sweet Lily Hamilton Bulb Porridge for you on the table. Finish it before you go,” he instructed, his voice firm yet tinged with something softer.

Arabella whirled around, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t have to put on this fake act for me. It’s none of your business if I die!” she shot back, anger fueling her words.

He merely shrugged, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips. “We’re in the middle of a divorce. If you die here, I’m afraid your family will try to pin it on me.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in the air, and Arabella felt her heart race. This was the real Jayceon—ruthless, unyielding, and utterly devoid of empathy.

With a swift motion, Jayceon reached out, gripping her shoulder to stop her from leaving. “If you truly wish to leave, drink the porridge,” he commanded, his voice low and unyielding.

Arabella stood frozen for a heartbeat, the tension palpable, before she reluctantly stepped into the dining room.

Frustrated, Arabella reached out to Zachary’s assistant, who informed her that he was currently in M Country, performing a complex brain surgery on a prominent political figure. The cases that demanded Zachary’s expertise were notoriously intricate, often stretching into hours—sometimes exceeding ten—each moment filled with life and death decisions.

But her mother’s situation was dire, and time was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

Roderick seemed to have aged years in just a few days, the weight of worry etched into his features. He looked at Arabella, his eyes filled with a pain he could not articulate. His lips moved, but no words escaped.

The silence between father and daughter was deafening, a shared anguish that needed no words.

Around midday, Tabitha arrived at the hospital to visit Kayla. Roderick seized the opportunity to excuse himself, claiming he needed a smoke, leaving Arabella and Tabitha alone in the room.

Pouring a glass of water for Tabitha, Arabella could sense the hesitation in her friend’s demeanor. “Arabella, I know I don’t have the right to say anything, given how things have unfolded,” Tabitha began, her voice trembling slightly. “But seeing you two like this… it tears me apart.”

From the moment Georgina and her son returned, and Arabella mentioned the divorce, Tabitha had witnessed every underhanded tactic her son employed to ensure that the divorce would never materialize.