Mr Melendez,Your Wife Wants Divorce Long ago novel Chapter 393

**Chapter 393**

The searing ache in his chest, coupled with the fiery turmoil in his stomach, paled in comparison to the anguish that Arabella’s indifference had inflicted upon him this evening.

Why?

Why had it come to this?

As Steve entered the room, his gaze immediately fell upon Jayceon, who was crumpled beside the liquor cabinet, a pitiful sight.

Without hesitation, Steve rushed to assist him, extending a hand to help him up. But Jayceon, in a fit of frustration, shoved him away, his movements unsteady and erratic.

“Mr. Melendez,” Steve urged, trying to maintain his composure, “my phone has been buzzing incessantly. Shouldn’t you reach out to the mansion?”

Three years prior, his boss had brought Arabella to this very island for their honeymoon.

At that time, Arabella had expressed her discontent over the absence of internet connectivity.

In response, after their honeymoon, his boss had invested an astronomical sum and dedicated three years to erecting a 5G base station on this island, ensuring the signal extended over a hundred kilometers out into the surrounding sea.

He could never have anticipated that their return would unveil such stark differences.

Now, with his boss’s phone switched off, all internet access on the island had been abruptly severed, plunging them into isolation.

The only lifeline to the outside world was Steve’s phone.

From the previous night until this very moment, it had vibrated relentlessly with incoming calls, yet he had refrained from answering even one.

“Don’t pick up any calls unless they’re work-related!” Jayceon barked, his voice strained and weary.

With that, he struggled to rise to his feet, swaying dangerously.

Seeing his boss in such a dire state, Steve instinctively moved closer, ready to provide support.

“Mr. Melendez,” he said, concern etched across his face, “you’re suffering from severe gastritis and angina. Your condition is precarious; you can’t continue drinking like this. You need to take your medication immediately.”

Although he was merely Jayceon’s assistant, just another cog in the company machine, the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on his shoulders.

If anything were to happen to Jayceon here, he, the lowly wage slave, would bear the brunt of the fallout.

Jayceon waved him off dismissively, his hand knocking the medicine from Steve’s grasp, sending it scattering across the floor.

“Just wait a moment, Mr. Melendez. I’ll fetch another bottle from the helicopter,” Steve implored, urgency in his voice.

He dashed away to retrieve the medication, leaving Jayceon to sink weakly into a nearby chair.

The discomfort in his stomach intensified, a relentless grip that made him clutch his shirt over his chest, as if trying to contain the pain within.

In a haze, he caught sight of Arabella standing at the top of the staircase, dressed in her pajamas, her figure illuminated by the dim light.

He was too overwhelmed by agony to rise, but he extended a trembling hand toward her, whispering, “Arabella…”

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