My Ex-Husband Begged Me to Take Him Back - Chapter 120

Chapter 120: The conflicting emotions

Ava lay on her side, her eyes wide open, staring into the dim void. Sleep eluded her as Ethan’s warning echoed in her mind. A cold unease settled over her.

‘Could he have been involved in the mechanic’s death?’ She couldn’t help but wonder.

‘But he was at the hospital,’ she reminded herself, her brows furrowing. It didn’t add up. Part of her hesitated to believe that Dylan could do that.

‘He said he was manipulated into suspecting Papa,’ she recalled. ‘Was he telling the truth?’

Doubt warred with her instincts. Her conscience screamed caution, warning her not to trust him so easily. And yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t dismiss the possibility that he might be telling the truth.

“Is there someone who wants to hurt both families?”

Ava whispered thoughtfully. She had always believed the accident that took Dylan’s parents had been a tragic twist of fate, an unfortunate moment of misfortune. But now, with the mechanic’s sudden death, the narrative felt incomplete. She felt compelled to reconsider.

Ava’s pulse quickened as a chilling possibility crept into her mind. ‘That accident might be planned.’

Maybe Dylan was telling the truth. Maybe there was a mysterious enemy. Who was this enemy, orchestrating this chaos, pulling strings from the darkness?

Just as she was wondering, she felt the mattress dip beside her. Ava closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep. Every muscle in her body tensed as Dylan settled beside her, wrapping his arm around her.

The scent of alcohol clung to him, invading her senses. Her fingers gripped the edge of the blanket tightly, her body stiffening further as his hand brushed against her hair and traced her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Ava,” Dylan murmured. “I shouldn’t have neglected you. I regret it now—I mean it.” His warm breath grazed her ear.

Ava felt a shudder crossing her spine. Her body did not reject his approach or touch. Instead, a surprising instinct stirred within her—a longing to melt into his arms, to seek comfort in his embrace. The pull was magnetic, unbidden, and deeply confusing.

“Please stay with me.” He buried his face into her shoulder. “Don’t leave me, okay? I promise I’ll fix everything.”

“You are drunk,” Ava said softly. “Sleep now.”

Dylan stilled for a moment before gently turning her toward him. His hazy eyes searched her face, trying to focus through the blur. “You’re not asleep.” He blinked frequently to take a good look at her. “Were you waiting for me?” His tone dropped to a husky murmur as he caressed her face. “Tell me you still feel something for me… that you want me.”

Ava couldn’t help but stare at him, her breath hitching as his fingers traced her cheek. The intensity of his gaze sent her heart into a frenzy.

Dylan used to be always sharp and attentive. But the man before her was disoriented, a sight she had never imagined. His disheveled state stirred something she wasn’t prepared to confront.

“Why did you drink so much?” she asked quietly with a tinge of concern.

Dylan let out a low chuckle. Taking her hand in his, he pressed it to his chest. “Because it hurts here,” he whispered. “I wanted to numb the pain.”

Their eyes locked intently. Ava’s initial wariness began to waver as she held his gaze. The doubts, the anger—all of it seemed to blur at that moment. She only remembered the love she had festered for him in her heart for all those years. She nostalgically ran her finger down his jaw.

‘You are as good-looking as ever,’ she mumbled to herself.

Dylan drew her into his arms, holding her against his chest. The sudden action startled her, snapping her out of her reverie. She shifted, trying to create distance, but his grip remained firm.

“With you by my side, all the pain vanished,” he said huskily. “I am in peace now.”

“Let me go.” Ava tried to break free yet again.

“Please, Ava,” he pleaded. “Let me hold you. I won’t do anything, I promise. I just… I need this.”

His plea pierced through her defenses, and she stopped resisting, allowing her body to relax against his. To her surprise, the embrace didn’t feel awkward or intrusive. Instead, it felt comforting, like a balm soothing a long-felt ache. She realized with a pang that she had missed this—the closeness, the quiet reassurance of being with him.

Dylan stayed still, his breathing steady and calm, as if her presence had lulled him into a rare moment of peace.

Ava closed her eyes briefly, her thoughts in a mess. Amidst the mess, she thought she could use this moment to clear her doubts with him. In this drunken state, she believed he wouldn’t be conscious enough to manipulate his answers.

“Dylan!” she called out cautiously.

“Mm!” he hummed in response.

“Are you telling the truth that someone is using you against my father?” she asked.

Silence. She waited. When no answer came, Ava tilted her head to look at his face. His eyes were closed, his features soft, his breathing deep and steady. He was asleep.

She sighed in disappointment, but something about his nearness calmed the storm of her thoughts. She felt an inexplicable sense of solace she hadn’t felt for long. Her body melted into the quiet. The steady rhythm of Dylan’s breathing seemed to lull her, and her eyelids grew heavy. Sleep claimed her, drawing her into its embrace as effortlessly as Dylan had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shrill ringtone shattered the stillness of the night. The room was pitch dark. The room was shrouded in darkness, with only faint beams of light seeping through the gaps in the curtains, casting thin streaks across the walls.

A woman stirred under the covers, groaning in irritation as she fumbled for the phone on the nightstand. Her fingers found it.

“Who is it?” she barked.

“It’s me, Gianna,” came the voice from the other end.

The woman froze, her grip on the phone tightening. “How did you manage to call me?”

“Don’t worry about how I got a phone,” Gianna replied coldly. “You should worry about getting me out of here.”

“You’re in jail because of your own actions. Why would I waste my resources and risk everything to free you?”

There was a pause, and then Gianna’s voice turned colder. “Because I know too much about you. Aren’t you afraid I’ll expose your secrets? If I can reach you, I can certainly reach out to Dylan. Imagine what he’ll do when he finds out the truth about you.”

“Are you threatening me?” the woman snarled, her voice thickening in rage.

“Not a threat,” Gianna countered smoothly. “A proposal. I need your help. And if you get me out of here, I swear I’ll owe you forever.”

The faint light in the room caught a shift in the woman’s expression—her lips curling into a sly, calculating smile. “Since you want your freedom so much, I’ll help you. But you’ll need to do something for me in return.”

“Anything,” Gianna answered without hesitation. “Just get me out, and I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“Alright. I’ll get you out of jail.”