Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 130

**Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
**By J.S. Caldwell**
**Chapter 130**

Arabella looked at her mother, her voice steady and reassuring. “Mom, I’ve really thought this through. Life is just a fleeting collection of decades, and I know I can navigate through it, no matter the obstacles that come my way.”

She felt a swell of gratitude for the family that loved her unconditionally, the friends who cared deeply about her well-being, and the promising career that awaited her. The thought of her colleagues, who would soon become her allies in the professional world, filled her with a sense of purpose.

As long as she kept her eyes on the horizon, moving forward without glancing back at the past, she was certain her life would unfold into something extraordinary.

Just then, Jayceon approached her, a warm glass of milk cradled in his hands. “What are you talking about?” he inquired, curiosity etched across his face.

Arabella wrapped her fingers around the glass, feeling its warmth seep into her skin. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, deflecting his inquiry with a casual wave of her hand, though her heart raced at the thought of their recent conversations.

“Mom, Arabella and I are heading back now,” Jayceon announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.

After exchanging heartfelt goodbyes with the elders, Jayceon and Arabella stepped out of the old house, the evening air wrapping around them like a comforting blanket.

They arrived home shortly after eight, the sun having dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. Jayceon took her purse and hung it up with care, then gently removed her coat from her shoulders. “I have to take a call. You go take a shower first,” he instructed, his voice firm yet kind.

Arabella sensed the underlying intention in his eyes, but she chose to ignore it, heading to the bathroom to wash away the day.

The prenuptial agreement weighed heavily on her mind, a stark reminder of the terms that bound them. One particular clause loomed large: during their marriage, if one of them had sexual needs, the other could not refuse, no matter the circumstance.

In simpler terms, if Jayceon desired her, she had no choice but to comply.

Even though he had withdrawn the lawsuit, the original documents still lingered in his possession, a constant threat hanging over her. He could easily send her back to jail if he chose to. Yet, while Jayceon’s infidelity was a moral failing, it hadn’t crossed any legal boundaries.

In contrast, the evidence she once held against him had lost its potency, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed.

A soft knock on the bathroom door snapped her from her thoughts. She glanced down at the white bathrobe enveloping her and turned to open the door.

Jayceon stood there, clad in a dark bathrobe, its belt casually tied. His hair was still damp, water droplets glistening like tiny jewels on his forehead.

Without a word, he pulled her toward the sink, locating the hairdryer with ease. He began to dry her hair, his fingers deftly working through the strands with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the chaos of the night before.

Arabella reached for the hairdryer, determined to take control. “I can do it myself,” she insisted, a hint of defiance in her voice.

Jayceon simply handed it to her, then, with surprising strength, scooped her up and placed her on the bathroom counter.

She listened intently as Jayceon spoke to Georgina, his voice soft and considerate. “I ordered a model warship for our son,” he said, his tone warm. “I’ll have it sent over soon. And please, take care of yourself and the child. Don’t overwork.”

Arabella felt her grip on the blanket tighten, her hand trembling slightly as anger and hurt coursed through her. Her face paled, and she bit her lip, refusing to voice the turmoil churning inside her.

Once the call ended, Jayceon turned back to her, immediately sensing the shift in the atmosphere. He settled on the edge of the bed, reaching for her hand, only to find it shaking uncontrollably.

His eyes searched hers, conflicted emotions swirling within him. “Arabella, Leandro is my son. That’s a truth that cannot be altered,” he stated firmly, yet there was a hint of gentleness in his voice.

Arabella met his gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m not trying to stop you from being with him,” she replied, her voice quivering. “But you don’t have to shove it in my face.”

The tension between them thickened, an unspoken weight hanging in the air.

Jayceon paused, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand her feelings. “That was just a regular call with Georgina. You don’t need to be so sensitive about it,” he said, his tone shifting to one of frustration.

“I’m Leandro’s father, Arabella. Georgina and I are co-parenting this child. We won’t just talk on the phone; we’ll meet, have meals together, and share responsibilities. If you’re this sensitive, how are we supposed to navigate our future?”

The words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea all at once. Arabella’s heart raced as she processed his statement, the reality of their situation crashing down upon her like a wave.