Mr Melendez,Your Wife Wants Divorce Long ago novel Chapter 310

**Her Spark Ignites Tonight**
**By J.S. Caldwell**
**Chapter 310**

Arabella had once shared with Jayceon her dreams of a life spent together in this very home, a sanctuary where their love would blossom and endure. The thought of it filled her with warmth—until now.

In just three fleeting years, the landscape of their lives had shifted dramatically, leaving her to grapple with a whirlwind of emotions.

Silence enveloped them like a heavy blanket as they sat in the car, each lost in their own thoughts, the air thick with unspoken words.

“I’m tired. I want to go back!” Arabella finally broke the stillness, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and longing.

Jayceon turned to her, his expression vacant for a moment, as if he were trying to decipher her words. Then, with a resigned sigh, he started the engine, the sound breaking the silence like a gunshot.

The afternoon stretched on, languid and heavy, as Jayceon retreated into the confines of his study, shutting the world out. Arabella, feeling the weight of the silence, closed her bedroom door and allowed herself to drift into a restless nap, the quiet of the house amplifying the distance growing between them.

Dinner time arrived, and Jayceon emerged from his seclusion, his presence felt like a ghost haunting the halls. He made his way to the master bedroom, where Arabella was busy organizing her belongings with methodical precision.

It was then that he caught sight of the documents laid out before her—the ID card, the Household Registration Record, the marriage certificate, and a stack of folders that held the weight of their impending divorce. A chill ran through him, and he instinctively clutched at his chest, stumbling backward as if he had been physically struck.

Arabella, having finished packing, stepped out of the room only to find Jayceon’s study door firmly shut. The finality of it left her feeling hollow.

She prepared herself a simple meal, the act of cooking feeling strangely robotic. Afterward, she retreated back to her room, the gnawing anxiety bubbling beneath her calm exterior. She yearned for the comfort of Monday morning, wishing for the chaos of life to sweep her away from this suffocating stillness.

As night descended, Jayceon found himself alone in the study, standing by the French windows, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. The empty wine bottles cluttered the coffee table behind him, a testament to the numbing he sought. The relentless ticking of the clock on the wall gnawed at his nerves, each tick amplifying the isolation he felt.

The weekend had stretched on, and Arabella, waking up to an empty house, decided to venture into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

As she cracked eggs into a pan, Jayceon entered, his footsteps hesitant. “Let me help you,” he offered, his voice soft yet laden with an urgency that made her heart race.

Arabella’s instincts kicked in, and she swiftly turned off the stove, halting his intentions.

“Jayceon, please,” she said, her tone pleading. “I can’t eat anything you’ve touched. It’s too hard for me, especially after that blueberry cake you made for Georgina.”

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