Mr Melendez,Your Wife Wants Divorce Long ago novel Chapter 137

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

**Chapter 137**

Though he may not have excelled as a husband, one undeniable truth remained—he was a devoted father.

Had Georgina’s circumstances been a shade more favorable, they could have easily been the epitome of a blissful family of three, radiating happiness in their little world.

Arabella, weary from the day’s burdens, stepped into the shower, letting the warm water cascade over her, washing away the remnants of her worries. Afterward, she extinguished the last flicker of light in the house, plunging into the comforting embrace of darkness as she settled into bed.

A husband who had emotionally vacated their life together was hardly worth the sleepless nights she endured, nor did he merit the courtesy of a light left burning for him.

Moments later, a firm knock echoed from upstairs, reverberating through the stillness of the house. It was Jayceon, seeking an audience with Samuel.

Upon opening the door, Samuel’s gaze fell upon Jayceon, and a sardonic smile crept onto his lips. “Well, look who’s come crawling back, dressed in sackcloth and ashes?”

Jayceon shot him a piercing look, his expression a mix of annoyance and determination as he stepped inside.

Samuel scrutinized Jayceon, the silence stretching between them like a taut wire. Finally, he relented and ambled closer. “Spit it out. What have you done now that’s got you feeling guilty?”

With a furrowed brow, Jayceon met Samuel’s gaze. “What did she say to you last night?”

At those words, Samuel’s demeanor shifted, his face darkening like a storm cloud. “What’s this? Are you really going to dictate who she can talk to now?”

Jayceon pinched the bridge of his nose, a wave of frustration washing over him as a headache began to throb at his temples. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

He simply yearned to grasp the true essence of Arabella’s thoughts, to understand the tempest of feelings swirling within her.

Samuel shot back, his tone sharp. “Then what exactly are you implying?”

Jayceon, feeling the weight of the moment, reached for his glass and took a substantial gulp, the liquid burning as it slid down his throat. He set the glass down, the silence stretching out like an uncomfortable blanket, before finally admitting, “I can’t communicate with her properly right now.”

The truth hung heavy in the air. Since Arabella’s return, she had transformed significantly.

In public, she wore a mask of politeness, maintaining a facade that everything was fine. Yet at home, the atmosphere was fraught with tension; she neither fought nor raised her voice. Instead, her reactions were limited to her family, where she oscillated between being confrontational, surrendering, or withdrawing into a silence so deep it felt impenetrable.

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