Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 341

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

**Chapter 341**

In that moment, Jayceon collapsed, his composure shattered like glass. The weight of his emotions bore down on him, and he could no longer hold himself together. Kimberly, standing nearby, felt a pang of helplessness; she lacked the strength to pull him back from the edge of despair. All she could do was witness his frantic search, his eyes darting around as if hoping to find some semblance of clarity in the chaos that enveloped him.

“Jayceon,” Kimberly implored, her voice trembling slightly, “don’t you remember? Back then, you refused to wear those diamond cufflinks that Arabella painstakingly chose for you. Just think about how heartbroken that made her feel.” Her heart ached for both of them, but she knew the truth had to be spoken. “You didn’t appreciate her when she was right in front of you, and now… now it’s too late for anything you might do. You need to wake up!”

His response was a sharp, angry retort. “Shut up!” Jayceon’s voice was raw, laced with desperation. The redness around his eyes spoke volumes of his pain. “Arabella has a temper. She’s just mad at me. She’ll come back!”

Kimberly’s heart sank further as she watched him spiral deeper into denial. She felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow for her friend, yet she was powerless to change his mind.

With a heavy sigh, she added, “The family estate called you yesterday, but you ignored their call. Grandpa asked me to come over and tell you that you must return to the estate tonight.” She paused, glancing at him with concern before reminding Victoria, who had been listening quietly, to keep a watchful eye on her brother.

The following morning, Jayceon arrived at his office with a sense of dread hanging over him. It was ten o’clock when Steve knocked gently before stepping inside. The atmosphere within the room was thick with tension, almost suffocating in its intensity.

Jayceon, clad in a dark suit that seemed to absorb the light around him, slumped wearily in his office chair. He leaned his head back, eyes shut tight, lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts. Steve, aware of the fragile state his boss was in, placed a file on the desk with utmost care, striving to avoid any unnecessary noise that might disturb the fragile silence.

Standing before the desk, Steve clasped his hands together, bracing himself to speak. “Mr. Melendez,” he began cautiously, “our sources have confirmed that Julian is indeed injured.”

Jayceon opened his eyes slowly, the weight of the news pulling him upright. “The other party involved is Julian’s sworn enemy—the R.M. Chamber of Commerce from Country R. It seems they’re not coming in peace,” Steve continued, his voice steady but laced with concern.

As the implications of Steve’s words settled in, Jayceon felt a chill creep through him. His pupils constricted, and his expression remained as inscrutable as ever, but an icy aura enveloped him, signaling the storm brewing within.

Later that day, Arabella stood outside the hospital’s outpatient building, her phone vibrating with an incoming call from Jayceon. With a mix of trepidation and resolve, she stepped out to meet him. “What is it that you want from me?” she asked, her tone guarded.

Jayceon’s eyes were dark, a storm brewing beneath the surface as he opened the car door. “Get in. We need to talk,” he commanded, his voice low and firm.

Arabella regarded him with a calm facade, but her tone was laced with bitterness. “Jayceon, I once relied on those twenty-plus years of our childhood bond. I trusted you and depended on you. Even knowing that I wasn’t the one you loved, I married you without hesitation, believing that at the very least, you wouldn’t hurt me. But look where we are now.”

Their gazes locked, and Jayceon struggled to muster a smile, but the words died on his lips. The tension in the car was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife.

Arabella, unable to bear the weight of the moment any longer, turned to open the car door, intent on leaving. But Jayceon, in a moment of desperation, grasped her wrist gently yet firmly.

“Arabella,” he said, his voice softening, “I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

Seeing the impatience etched on her face, Jayceon shifted the conversation. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “Without you, my sleep has become increasingly restless. I’ve even run out of the medication you prescribed for me.”

Arabella’s demeanor shifted to a more clinical tone. “If you want medicine, make an appointment,” she replied, her resolve hardening as she reached for the car door again.

But before she could escape, Jayceon lost control of his emotions. He pulled her into a tight embrace, desperation and longing flooding the space between them.