Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 340

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

**Chapter 340**

Yet, in that moment of despair, he offered her no solace.

The night had deepened around them, a blanket of darkness enveloping the world outside. Jayceon’s heart was a tempest, emotions swirling within him like a storm.

How many drinks had he consumed? The thought slipped through his mind like sand through fingers, leaving him in a hazy stupor where reality blurred with the remnants of alcohol. He found himself adrift, caught in a liminal space between consciousness and oblivion.

Morning arrived with the soft light of dawn, and Victoria’s gentle nudging roused him from his slumber on the sofa.

As he propped himself up, fatigue weighed heavily upon him, and he instinctively pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to shake off the remnants of his restless night. “Victoria, didn’t I tell you…” he began, his voice trailing off into the air.

Before he could articulate the rest of his thought, Victoria interjected, her tone brisk yet caring. “Sir, your mother was quite anxious about you being by yourself, so she sent me to look after you.”

Jayceon remained silent, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He shuffled to the bathroom, his mind still foggy.

After what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the room, fully dressed but feeling anything but.

**Chapter 840**

Victoria intercepted him as he made his way through the house. “Sir, breakfast is ready. Your mother insisted that I ensure you eat something before you head out!”

He hesitated, a flicker of resistance in his eyes, but the hunger gnawed at him, prompting him to turn and head into the kitchen.

Seated alone at the dining table, his gaze involuntarily drifted to the empty seat that once belonged to Arabella. Memories flooded back, and he gripped the soup spoon tightly, his knuckles whitening as he fought to look away.

The sight of the millet congee before him held no appeal; it was a stark reminder of happier times. He recalled vividly the day he returned home early from work, only to find Arabella in the kitchen, her cartoon pajamas a riot of colors as she clumsily attempted to prepare dinner for him.

She had been a whirlwind of energy, humming a cheerful tune, completely immersed in her task. In her enthusiasm, she had accidentally burned her hand on hot oil, but instead of succumbing to pain, she had merely rinsed it under cold water and continued with her cooking, laughter spilling from her lips.

Now, sitting in that dining chair, Jayceon felt a profound weakness wash over him, the soup spoon trembling in his grasp.

With a sudden clatter, the spoon slipped from his fingers, hitting the table before rolling off and shattering against the floor, the sound jolting him back to reality.

Glancing down at the congee splattered across his white shirt, he rose abruptly, seeking solace in a change of clothes.

In the walk-in closet, as he rummaged through a drawer for a pair of cufflinks, a wave of nostalgia hit him. He remembered vividly the second wedding anniversary when Arabella had gifted him a pair of exquisite diamond cufflinks.

The sight that greeted Kimberly was disheartening; the closet was in disarray, jewelry strewn across the floor like fallen leaves. She moved forward to halt Jayceon’s frantic digging.

“Jayceon, stop looking. The cufflinks Arabella gave you are long gone,” she said, her voice steady but filled with compassion.

He froze, his hands hovering over the drawers, confusion and disbelief etched across his features. “What do you mean, gone?” he demanded, desperation creeping into his voice.

Kimberly’s gaze softened as she took in his haggard appearance, the bloodshot eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and emotional turmoil. Yet, she steeled herself to tell him the truth. “Back then, in the yard of the house you shared with Arabella after your marriage, she burned all the gifts you gave her. She contacted a second-hand market and sold everything she ever bought for you.”

Stumbling backward, Jayceon collided with the wardrobe door, the impact echoing in the silence of the room. “No way. Arabella loves me too much; she wouldn’t be so cruel.”

In a sudden frenzy, he began yanking open drawers and cabinets, a wild look in his eyes as he searched for something—anything—that would prove her wrong.

Kimberly stood by, helpless, tears brimming in her eyes as she watched him spiral further into despair. “Jayceon, she really sold them all. Not a single thing is left!”

**Chapter 140**

Jayceon turned sharply, his voice rising in disbelief. “Impossible!”

Kimberly stepped closer, her voice firm yet gentle. “Jayceon, snap out of it! Those gifts, just like Arabella, you can’t get them back!”