**TITLE: Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
**By J.S. Caldwell**
**Chapter 111**
With a heavy heart, Jayceon set the birthday cake down on the welcome mat outside the door, its vibrant frosting a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. As he turned the knob and stepped back inside, he felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
“Arabella,” he began, his voice softened by a hint of regret, “I’ve taken care of the cake. Can we just sit down and talk for a moment?” The hope in his tone was palpable, like a fragile thread that could snap at any moment.
Arabella, however, remained resolute. She turned her face away, her features set in an expression that mirrored the coldness in her heart. “There’s nothing to discuss. Just leave!” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the thick silence.
Jayceon’s gaze lingered on her, searching for a glimmer of the warmth they once shared. But all he found was a storm of emotions swirling in her eyes—hurt, anger, and betrayal.
He reached out, instinctively tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a gesture that had once been tender. But Arabella recoiled, shoving his hand away with a look of disgust that pierced through him.
Desperation surged within him as he grabbed her arm, pulling her into his embrace with a force that left no room for escape. He could feel her body tense, her resistance a futile attempt to break free from the gravity of their shared pain.
As he held her close, he noticed how fragile she had become, a reminder of the toll their tumultuous relationship had taken. The sight of her thin frame filled his eyes with unshed tears, an ache he could no longer ignore.
“Arabella,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, yet impossibly gentle, “everyone carries their past. Georgina is merely a chapter in my story, and so is the child. You don’t need to keep dwelling on it.”
But his words fell on deaf ears. In a moment of fury, Arabella opened her mouth and sank her teeth into his shoulder, a primal act of defiance. Jayceon winced, the sharp pain jolting him, and he instinctively loosened his grip, though he refused to let her go entirely.
Arabella’s fingers curled tightly around the lapel of his suit, her knuckles turning white as she fought against the storm brewing within her. “You think this is about your past? No, Jayceon! Betraying me with that mother and her child—that’s the reality. You’ve promised to care for them for the rest of your life! It’s not me who’s fixated on your past; it’s you who has allowed Georgina and her son to infiltrate every aspect of your life—past, present, and now your future!”

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