Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 181

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

**Chapter 181**

Every single word that Arabella uttered felt achingly familiar, echoing in Jayceon’s mind like a haunting melody.

Noticing the anguish etched across Jayceon’s features, Arabella instinctively took charge, guiding him gently to the sofa. With a thoughtful gesture, she poured a glass of water, her movements deliberate and calm.

“I’ve explained everything,” she said softly, her voice a soothing balm. “Is there anything else you want to ask?”

Jayceon’s deep-set eyes remained locked onto Arabella, his thin lips pressed tightly together, a silent storm brewing within him. He said nothing, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.

Arabella observed his silence, a flicker of concern crossing her face. She glanced at her phone, noting the time, and sighed. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to take a shower. I have work tomorrow and can’t afford to stay up too late.”

With that, she turned on her heel, slipping into the bathroom without waiting for a response.

More than half an hour passed, and when Arabella emerged, she found Jayceon slumped on the sofa, a cigarette dangling from his fingers, smoke curling lazily into the air.

With a heavy sigh, she stepped into the living room, her voice laced with concern. “It’s so late, and you have work tomorrow. You really should take a shower and get some rest.”

Jayceon looked up, his gaze piercing as he took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light. Arabella watched him, a mix of frustration and sympathy washing over her. “The sudden death rate from chronic sleep deprivation is 5 to 10 percent. You do the math,” she quipped, her tone light but the underlying message serious.

Without waiting for his reply, she turned and retreated back to the bedroom, leaving Jayceon to ponder her words.

He stubbed out the cigarette, tilting his head back, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the fatigue that clung to him like a shadow. Sitting there, his back rigid against the sofa, he contemplated the night that had passed, filled with restless thoughts and sleeplessness. Eventually, he rose, determination pushing him to wash up.

Upon returning to the bedroom, he found Arabella already lost in slumber, her peaceful expression a stark contrast to his turmoil.

The following morning, the shrill sound of the alarm jolted Arabella awake, pulling her from the depths of sleep. She stretched her arms above her head, feeling the remnants of sleep slip away. As she turned, her gaze landed on Jayceon, who sat at the edge of the bed, his eyes wide open but devoid of life, resembling a zombie caught in a waking nightmare.

Concern etched itself on Arabella’s face as she leaned closer, her heart sinking at the sight of the dark circles under his eyes. “Has your grandfather been putting too much pressure on you lately? Did you have trouble sleeping?” she asked, her voice laced with genuine worry.

The glare Jayceon shot her could have cut glass.

Arabella, feeling the tension in the air, threw off the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed, determined to wash up and start her day.

Jayceon followed her into the bathroom, his face a mask of grim determination. He had spent the entire night battling insomnia, and the lack of concern from Arabella stung more than he cared to admit.

At 7:50 AM, Arabella was bustling around, packing her belongings, preparing to leave for work.

Jayceon stepped in her path, his expression darkening. “It’s still early. Have breakfast with me, and I’ll drive you,” he insisted, his voice firm.

Jayceon glanced at Steve, who was observing him with an uncertain gaze. “It’s the old problem. Just get me some medicine,” he replied, trying to keep his tone steady.

“Okay, I’ll get the medicine ready when I’m free and bring it home tonight. Talk to you later,” Arabella responded, her voice reassuring.

Jayceon opened his mouth to say something more, but the line went dead as she hung up.

Steve, ever the keen observer, noted the shift in his boss’s demeanor, the darkness creeping back into his expression.

Without missing a beat, he quickly dialed Arabella again.

When she answered, Steve spoke cautiously, “Ma’am, Mr. Melendez is in really bad shape. I don’t think he can wait until tonight.”

Jayceon remained silent, his thoughts racing.

After finishing the call with Arabella, Steve braced himself against the intensity of Jayceon’s gaze. “Mr. Melendez, Ma’am said to hang in there a little longer. She said she’ll bring the medicine over before noon.”

The mention of Arabella bringing the medicine eased the tension in Jayceon’s brow just a fraction, a small comfort in the midst of his turmoil.

The clock ticked past eleven in the morning, and the weight of the day loomed heavy ahead.