**Title: Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
**By J.S. Caldwell**
**Chapter 138**
As Jayceon finished his words, he turned away, a weight of frustration on his shoulders.
Samuel, unable to contain his rage, stomped his foot with a force that echoed in the room. “I’ll have a word with her about slipping you some slow-acting poison to get rid of you for good!” His voice dripped with venom, a desperate attempt to assert control over the situation.
When Jayceon finally returned home, the only illumination came from the voice-activated light by the door, casting a faint glow in the otherwise pitch-black house. The darkness felt like a heavy blanket, suffocating and oppressive.
His deep-set eyes darkened further, and an ugly scowl twisted his features into a deeper frown. The absence of warmth in the house was palpable; she hadn’t waited for him, nor had she bothered to leave a light on as a beacon for his return.
He entered the bedroom, flicking on a dim strip of light that barely pierced the shadows.
Standing by the bed, Jayceon’s gaze fell upon Arabella’s serene face, illuminated softly by the yellow glow. She looked peaceful, lost in her dreams, yet he felt a pang of loneliness in his chest.
In the past, no matter how late he returned, she would always keep the light on, a silent promise that she was there waiting for him.
Even during their tumultuous times, when the specter of Georgina loomed large over their lives, she had never once succumbed to sleep before he arrived home. They had fought fiercely then, arguments fueled by jealousy and insecurity, but she had always remained awake, ready to confront him.
Now, however, a disquieting calm enveloped her. So calm that she could suggest he go to Georgina to satisfy his physical needs without a hint of hesitation.
This thought ignited an inexplicable emptiness and irritation within him, a sense of loss that gnawed at his insides.
The following morning, Arabella stirred awake in Jayceon’s arms, the warmth of his body wrapping around her like a protective cocoon. She had assumed he would spend the night at Georgina’s, yet here he was, back in their bed.
The duality of his life weighed heavily on her; caring for the woman and child he loved while simultaneously playing the role of a devoted husband to her. The thought alone exhausted Arabella, and she couldn’t help but feel the burden of his choices.
Just as she attempted to rise, Jayceon awoke, instinctively wrapping his arm around her waist to prevent her escape. “Why didn’t you leave a light on for me last night?” His voice was laced with a mixture of annoyance and something deeper that he couldn’t quite articulate.
Arabella’s gaze fell to the floor, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I’ll be more careful next time. I’ll make sure not to make such a basic mistake again.”
His mind raced back to those six months in Brazoria, a time when he had Georgina by his side. He hadn’t needed her to leave a light on for him during that period; he had been consumed by another life.
Yet, he demanded this small gesture from Arabella, a constant reminder of their prenuptial agreement, an attempt to mold her into the perfect Mrs. Melendez he envisioned.
Her words felt blunt, distant, as if they were spoken by a stranger rather than the woman he loved.

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