My Ex-Husband Begged Me to Take Him Back - Chapter 203

Chapter 203: There is no escaping my trap.

Chapter 203: There is no escaping my trap.

Dylan approached her, one step at a time, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips.

His presence was magnetic.

Ava instinctively retreated, her back hitting the edge of the counter.

She flinched slightly, her hands gripping the countertop for support.

“You were murmuring something.” Dylan leaned in, his arms on either side of her, palms flat against the counter, effectively trapping her in place.

His proximity sent a jolt through her, and her senses suddenly heightened.

His familiar cologne, his warmth, the intensity in his dark green eyes-it all overwhelmed her.

“What’s on your mind, Ava?” he murmured huskily.

Ava swallowed hard, her heart racing even faster as she searched for the words to deflect, to escape, to deny the very feelings that threatened to surface.

Ava’s pulse quickened, each beat drumming louder in her ears.

Her cheeks burned with heat.

“I-I wasn’t thinking about you.” She struggled to keep her voice steady, though the butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach betrayed her.

“Uh-huh?” He leaned even closer to her, and she held her breath.

“Then why did you say you’d cook?” he whispered in her ear, knowing exactly where her soft point was.

Ava’s grip on the counter tightened as she shuddered, his breath grazing her skin like a spark to kindling.

Dylan noticed the way her body responded to him, the way her breath hitched, and her eyes darted nervously.

He reveled in the tension, leaning in to brush his lips lightly against the sensitive skin behind her ear.

“You didn’t answer me.” His low and husky voice sent a jolt through her.

Ava’s toes curled.

She bit down on her lip, stifling the soft moan that threatened to escape her mouth.

She wanted to resist, to push away the emotions he effortlessly stirred, but he was relentless, pressing soft kisses to her neck and nipping her earlobe.

She gasped softly.

“I know you want this,” he murmured, coiling his arms around her waist.

But Ava fought through the haze, her hands finding their way to his chest.

With a firm push, she created space between them.

“No, I don’t,” she said resolutely.

“I don’t want this.” Dylan stepped back, disappointment flickering in his eyes.

“Alright.” His tone carried a hint of resignation.

“I won’t force you.” Hanging his head low, he turned to leave.

“I am cooking for you to thank you.” Her words halted him mid-step.

She drew in a deep breath, gathering her thoughts.

“Thanks, Dylan, for saving Papa.” He glanced back at her over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.

“You should thank Henry, not me.

He is the one who performed the surgery.” “But he agreed to come because of you,” Ava countered.

“You made sure he performed the procedure.

I’m truly grateful, Dylan.

I mean it.” Something about Ava’s tone amazed Dylan.

Her words were softer, and her tone was less frigid than previously.

She didn’t seem as hostile as before.

Dylan froze for a moment, her softened tone replaying in his mind like a melody he hadn’t heard in ages.

Something about the way she spoke tugged at his heart, igniting a flicker of hope.

Dylan thought issues between them would be resolved soon now that he had saved Thomas and changed the past events.

He turned back to her.

“Then can we start over?” he asked, his voice carrying both hesitance and longing.

“Can we€¦” “Dylan, stop,” she interrupted firmly, dousing his hope like a cold wave.

“Don’t let this give you the wrong idea.

I’m grateful for what you did for Papa today, but that doesn’t mean I’ll come back to you.” Dylan’s expression twisted with desperation.

“Why not?

Why can’t we start fresh?” he pressed, clasping her hands.

“I’m trying, Ava.

I’ve been trying to change, to be better for you.

I know I was a terrible husband.

I didn’t show you the love and care you deserved, but I’m learning.

I’m improving.

Please, trust me.” Ava drew her hands back.

She grabbed the jug of water from the counter.

The next moment, she tipped it, letting the water spill onto the floor.

Dylan jumped back, startled and bewildered.

“What are you doing?” Ava set the jug down and raised her eyes at him.

“Can you put the spilled water back into the jug?” “What?” Dylan blinked, his mind racing to grasp her meaning.

“What are you talking about?” “Once the water is spilled, it can’t be put back,” she explained calmly.

“And just like that, a broken relationship can’t return to what it was.

We’re already divorced, Dylan.

It’s time for us to move on.” For a moment, Dylan just stared at her, speechless.

His confusion quickly morphed into pain, then stormy determination.

“Spilled water may not go back into the jug, but broken relationships can be mended.

People rebuild, Ava.

They find their way back to each other.

And I’ll keep trying-until my last breath.” He pivoted and stormed out of the house.

“Dylan€¦” Ava’s hand instinctively reached out, but he was already out of the house.

She stood frozen, staring at the door as a pang of regret struck her chest.

Her outstretched hand lingered for a moment before falling limply to her side.

She had wanted to thank him, but instead, she had pushed him away.

The raw hurt in his eyes flashed before her, and she winced at the memory.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Regret gnawed at her insides, her shoulders slumping.

“I shouldn’t have said those things.” ~~~~~~~~~~~ The bar was filled with the low hum of murmured conversations and clinking glasses, but Dylan remained in his own world, oblivious to everything around him.

Shot after shot disappeared down his throat, the fiery liquid failing to drown the ache in his chest.

His vision blurred, and his grip on the glass faltered, yet he motioned for another drink, stubbornly determined to escape the echo of Ava’s words.

Across the room, Erica watched him drinking.

She watched as Dylan swayed slightly in his seat.

A malicious thought crossed her mind.

Her manicured fingers moved swiftly on the phone screen as she dialed a number.

“Come to the Moonlit Hotel and wait for me,” she purred.

“You have a chance to have Dylan.” “Dylan?” “Yes,” Erica confirmed.

“And he is drunk.

He seems upset-probably he fought with Ava.” The voice on the other end let out a thoughtful hum before responding, “I understand.

I’ll be there soon.” Erica ended the call and tucked her phone away.

Her eyes glinted with malicious intent as she glanced back at Dylan.

“Oh, Dylan€¦You’ve handed me this opportunity on a silver platter.

Now, there is no escaping my trap.”