Chapter 387 My Ava
"Yes, she's awful, she's completely oblivious to your feelings. When you proposed divorce, she should have resisted, clung to you, vehemently refused the separation," Mia mused, careful not to argue with the inebriated man, lest it cloud his already muddled mind.
"Exactly, I suggest divorce, and she's ready to leave? Why is she so compliant?" Alexander retorted, his voice laced with anger. "She doesn't have a rebellious bone in her body!" Mia found herself at a loss for words.
The men of the Mitchell family were all the same, insatiable and impossible to please.
"She shouldn't be so docile, she should fight back, rebel. I think Ava is simply a fool, utterly naive," Mia continued.
"You're the fool!" Alexander retorted, grabbing a pillow and hurling it across the room, his tantrum reminiscent of a petulant child.
He turned his head and said, "Don't speak ill of Ava, she's not stupid at all."
"Why do you defend her so vehemently?" Mia chuckled. "Then why did you divorce her?" Observing Alexander, inebriated and spouting nonsense, Mia found herself unable to comprehend his sudden insistence on divorce.
"Because... because of my Ava..." Alexander's voice trailed off into silence.
Mia gently patted his head, "Alexander, Alexander?"
But Alexander didn't respond. It seemed the alcohol had finally taken its toll, rendering him unconscious. Mia carefully removed his drenched clothes, replacing them with clean ones. Unable to move his heavy frame, she let him rest on the sofa, covering him with a thick blanket to ward off the chill.
Concerned he might wake up parched, Mia filled a large glass with water and set it on the table. "You leave me speechless," Mia murmured, gently stroking his hair. "Sleep well, and don't say I don't look after you. We're adults, yet you behave like a child, feeling victimized even when you're in the wrong."
If he weren't her own flesh and blood, she would have berated him.
The sweet little boy had evolved into a despicable man, albeit a pitiful one.
"Mom," Alexander murmured faintly.
"What is it, my dear?" Mia asked. "I'm so heartbroken, Ava doesn't want to see me."
"Do you want to see Ava?"
"Yes."
"How badly do you want to see her?" "Desperately."
"Then, will you promise me that if I arrange a meeting, you'll speak to her, apologize if necessary, even attempt to win her back?"
"Okay." Alexander clutched the pillow in his arms, his voice heavy with emotion, "Ava, let's go home."
Eventually, Alexander succumbed to sleep, his nonsensical ramblings ceasing. Mia remained on the sofa, keeping a watchful eye on Alexander. Her gaze dropped, a wave of sadness washing over her. "Alexander, you and your father are both fools. Why don't you appreciate what you have? Why do you always feel as though you haven't truly loved your wife?
"My foolish son, don't follow in your father's footsteps.
This is a sight I can't bear to witness."
Meanwhile, at the hospital, Isabella was seething with anger, tears streaming down her face as she attempted to call Alexander.
[I'm sorry, the number you have dialed is currently busy. Please try again later.]
The line was perpetually engaged. She made countless calls and sent numerous messages, but her calls went unanswered, and her messages ignored. Ever since she received that text saying, "Who could love someone like you? Get lost!" she hadn't been able to reach Alexander.
