Mr Melendez Your Wife Wants Divorce Long Ago novel Chapter 56

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

**Chapter 56**

As the hours melted into the deep embrace of night, Jayceon found himself staring at his phone, the silence of Arabella’s absence weighing heavily on him. The message he had sent her earlier that morning lingered unanswered, a cruel reminder of the distance that had grown between them.

For over two decades, they had shared a bond that many would envy—a love that blossomed in the innocence of childhood. He could still vividly recall the day he gifted her first mobile phone, the joy that lit up her face as she wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek, her laughter echoing in his ears.

But those days felt like a distant memory now. He remembered how she had set a unique ringtone just for him, a melody that would always herald his messages. From that moment on, her replies had been instantaneous, each ping of her phone a delightful reminder of their connection. Now, however, the silence felt like a gaping void, a painful reminder of what he had lost.

What a torment it was to wait for a response, he thought bitterly. It was a feeling he had never truly understood until now, a gnawing sensation that clawed at his insides.

Suddenly, his hand brushed against his pocket, and he realized that the voice recorder he had meant to bring along was still sitting in the car. With a sigh, he decided to retrieve it. As he made his way downstairs, his phone buzzed with an incoming call from Georgina. Her voice was laced with urgency as she informed him that Leandro had developed a fever in the middle of the night. The local clinic had refused to admit him, and they needed to rush him to a larger hospital.

“Gina, don’t worry. I’m on my way,” he reassured her, his heart racing.

By the time they managed to stabilize Leandro, the clock had struck three in the morning. Jayceon found himself in the hospital room, where Georgina, her face etched with worry, insisted he go home and rest. “Jay, you should really get some sleep. I had no choice but to call you tonight. You need to go back and explain everything to your wife. Don’t let her misunderstand things again.”

He felt a pang in his chest at the mention of Arabella. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Georgina that Arabella had already distanced herself from him, retreating back to her parents’ home.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Jayceon returned to the car, searching for the voice recorder, but it was nowhere to be found. Frustration bubbled within him as he picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts, hovering over Georgina’s number. He hesitated, then ultimately put the phone down. It was likely he had misplaced it while tending to Leandro, who had been in such distress that Georgina had been on the verge of tears. There was no way she would have taken the recorder.

Back in the hospital room, Georgina was busy emptying the contents of the voice recorder. She carefully wrapped it in a tissue, her heart racing, before tossing it into the trash. Jayceon likely hadn’t had the time to listen to its recordings, unaware that it contained the secret of how she had taken ten million dollars from his grandfather six years ago. If he had known, he would have approached the situation differently, asking questions rather than rushing to her side.

It was becoming increasingly clear to her that Tabitha was a formidable opponent, one she had underestimated.

The following morning, as the sun began to rise, Jayceon arrived at the hospital just as Arabella’s work hours started, only to be met with the disheartening news that she had gone to Dradale for an exchange program and wouldn’t return until the following week. The realization hit him hard—she was away for an entire week, and she hadn’t even bothered to inform him.

A wave of disappointment washed over him as he hesitated outside the ward, contemplating whether to check on Georgina and Leandro.

Pushing the door open slightly, he peered inside. Leandro was still nestled in sleep, while Georgina sat slumped beside him, holding his tiny hand as if it were the only lifeline she had. Jayceon felt an urge to comfort her, but he restrained himself, understanding that Georgina came from a humble background, with no grand ambitions or schemes. He believed that every action she took was driven by a mother’s love for her child.

If Arabella were to become a mother, he thought, surely she would understand Georgina’s sacrifices.

As he walked away, he dialed Steve’s number. “Cancel all my appointments for the next few days. Move the business trip to Dradale to this morning. Let me know when everything is set.”

His eyes scanned the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, and he frowned slightly. “I booked a suite upstairs. You should come stay with me.”

Arabella crossed her arms defiantly, leaning against the cabinet as if to shield herself from his presence. “Mr. Melendez, stop wasting time with this nonsense and just sign the divorce agreement.”

A shadow crossed Jayceon’s face as he felt the weight of her words. “It’s not appropriate to discuss things here. Come upstairs with me. We need to have a proper conversation.”

Arabella shook her head firmly, her resolve unwavering. “I have nothing to say to you except about the divorce.”

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “I’ve invited Esther. I told her you were here; she’s coming to see us soon. She cares about you deeply. Don’t you want to see her?”

As he spoke, he noticed the change in her expression. Arabella’s demeanor shifted, her eyes widening slightly.

Esther Haywood had been Arabella’s childhood neighbor, a constant presence in her life who had always been close to the Palmer family. A talented violinist, she had introduced Arabella to the world of music and had even been her mentor.

Arabella had planned to visit Esther on the day of her departure, but never in her wildest dreams did she expect Jayceon to bring her into the picture today. The tension in the air thickened as both of them stood on the precipice of a conversation long overdue.