My Ex-Husband Begged Me to Take Him Back - Chapter 141

Chapter 141: Not enough
The club was quiet, its usual lively atmosphere dimmed by the late hour. Dylan sat slouched on the leather sofa in a secluded corner, the room spinning slightly from the alcohol coursing through his veins. His head rested against the back of the seat, his fingers pressing into his temples.

James watched him with a worried look on his face. “I never thought I’d see you like this.”

“Like what?” Dylan grumbled in annoyance.

“Like a heartbroken teenager after their first breakup,” James quipped, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

Dylan shot him a glare, his leg jerking out to kick James. “Are you here to help, or are you here to irritate me? If you can’t help me, don’t taunt me at the very least.”

James chuckled. “Relax, man. I’m here to help,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “But seriously, seeing you like this is a rare sight. It’s… well, it’s worrying. But also, kind of funny.”

Dylan groaned, closing his eyes briefly. “I swear, if you don’t stop with the jokes, I’ll kick you out.”

“Alright, alright.” James raised his hands in surrender. “No more jokes. Now, tell me—what did Ava do to put you in this mood?”

Dylan’s mouth contorted as he recalled Ava with Ethan. “She doesn’t trust me,” he muttered. “She trusts that bastard – Ethan. He is clearly twisting everything, and she is falling for it. She doubted me. Me.” He jabbed a finger at his chest.

“I saved her, not once, but twice. Risked my life to protect her,” Dylan continued, his voice growing heavier with frustration. Isn’t it enough to make her convince that I am serious about her? But no… She still looks at me like I’m the enemy, while she believes every word he says. How is that fair?”

“It’s not fair,” James agreed quietly. “But Ava’s been through a lot. Maybe she just needs time to see things clearly.”

Dylan shook his head, his frustration simmering. “Time won’t help if she keeps listening to him,” he muttered with despair. “I am afraid she will fall into trouble.”

James patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. “I see your frustration. Ava doesn’t see your commitment, but honestly, it’s not all on her. You are responsible for it. I think you are a bit late. You signed those divorce papers before even trying to fix things.”

Dylan tilted his head, pinning him in his place with a sharp glare. “You are not a friend. Instead of comforting me, you are rubbing salt and pepper into my wounds.”

“Come on,” James groaned, throwing his hands up. “It’s not like that. I’m trying to help. Listen to me—you can’t stop her from meeting other people. The more you try to control her, the angrier she’ll get. You’re wasting your energy obsessing over Ethan and any other guy. Why not channel that energy into winning Ava’s heart instead?”

Dylan grumbled, his irritation clear. “And what do you think I’ve been doing?”

“Not enough,” James retorted bluntly. “Ask yourself this: how well do you really know her? Do you even know her likes, her dislikes? Hell, do you even know when her birthday is?”

Dylan froze, James’s words hitting him harder than the alcohol. He couldn’t deny what James had said. He had been so caught up in his own emotions, his own battles, that he had never taken the time to truly understand Ava.

“You’re right,” Dylan admitted with a firm nod. “I need to stop wallowing and start paying attention to her. To what she cares about.”

“Exactly.” James grinned, clapping Dylan on the back. “Now, stop drowning in booze and go win your wife back.”

“Right…you are right.” Dylan’s expression brightened, determination replacing his earlier gloom. “I shouldn’t waste time like this. I should go home. Ava might be waiting for me.” He stood up abruptly, but the alcohol betrayed him, sending him tumbling back onto the sofa.

“Seriously?” James muttered, rolling his eyes as he helped Dylan to his feet. “Why did you drink so much? Come on, I’ll take you home.”

James led him out of the club.

The drive to Dylan’s house was quiet. As James pulled into the driveway, he glanced over at Dylan, whose head rested against the window, his eyes half-closed. James unbuckled his seatbelt, ready to help his friend inside, but Dylan waved him off.

“I’m drunk, but not out of my senses,” Dylan muttered, his words slightly slurred. “Thanks for the ride, but I’ve got it from here.”

“Are you sure?” James raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Let me take you to your room. You’re barely steady on your feet.”

“Shh,” Dylan hushed him, pressing a finger to his own lips. “Ava’s probably sleeping. Don’t wake her. It’s late—you should head home.”

Before James could protest further, Dylan pushed open the car door and staggered toward the front steps. His movements were slow and unsteady. James watched with a mix of concern and resignation as Dylan fumbled with the keys before finally managing to open the door.

As Dylan disappeared into the house, James let out a heavy sigh. “I hope you manage to fix things with Ava,” he murmured.

Inside the house…

Dylan stumbled into his bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated Ava, who lay curled under the blanket. He shrugged off his coat and tossed it carelessly onto the settee before approaching the bed. Gently, he lowered himself onto the mattress, careful not to disturb her. However, he had no idea Ava wasn’t asleep yet.

She had waited for him tonight like she had always done in the past as she felt guilty for suspecting him. She wanted to talk to him, to clear the air, but once again, he had let her down.

When she felt him getting close to her, she stiffened, her fingers curling around the edge of the blanket. His arm slipped around her waist.

“Do you like the new wardrobe?” he murmured, his breath brushing against her ear. “I hope it makes things easier for you. No more struggling to organize your clothes.” His voice was low and slightly rough from the alcohol.

Ava remained still and silent, pretending to be asleep. She was curious as to what else he would say. In other words, she wanted him to wish her.

Midnight had passed, and it was her birthday. She had always wished that he would be the first to wish her a happy birthday, but this had never happened. ‘Would he remember this time?’ she thought, a tiny flicker of hope igniting within her.

But instead of the words she longed to hear, he whispered something else. “I am sorry. Can you please forgive me?”

Ava’s eyes flew open. She didn’t move. She didn’t dare to breathe, every fiber of her being longing to turn toward him, to see his face, to search for the sincerity in his expression. But hesitation anchored her in place. She waited and waited for him to speak further. The only sound was the steady rhythm of his breathing.

After what felt like ages, she finally gathered enough courage to shift and glanced at him.

Dylan was fast asleep.

She let out a somewhat frustrated sigh. “Why did you drink again?” she muttered, pouting. “It’s my birthday. But I already knew you’d forget… just like every other year. And yet, I’m foolish enough to keep hoping that this time, you’d remember. That just once, you’d make it special.”