No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 168

Two weeks slipped by in the blink of an eye.

A flight from Drexford touched down without incident.

Outside the terminal, a line of black town cars waited. Gina climbed into the backseat of her car and closed her eyes, trying to rest. Vanessa watched as Ian got into the lead vehicle, then followed her agent into another sedan.

All three wore the same look of exhaustion, the kind only a long journey can bring.

After dropping his mother off at her house, Ian headed home. The living room felt cavernous and empty as he sank onto the couch, made a few brief calls, then rubbed his temples and trudged upstairs to rest.

He had just finished showering when his phone rang. He reached for it, answering with a curt, "Hello?"

"Mr. Goodwin, I've sent the divorce papers to your email."

"Alright," Ian replied, voice flat.

Still in his robe, he made his way to the study, opened his laptop, and clicked open the lawyer's email. He squinted as he read through the contract, then placed a call in response.

"No issues. I'll print it out tomorrow."

"Mr. Goodwin, I can handle this for you if you'd—" the lawyer began, but Ian cut him off coldly.

"This is my decision."

"…Understood."

He checked the time, then sent Eleanor a text: Meet me at my office tomorrow to discuss the divorce.

Eleanor had just gotten her daughter to sleep when Ian's message arrived. The tension in her chest eased a little. She replied simply, Okay.

She quickly texted Frazier, asking him to accompany her to Ian's office the next day.

At that moment, footsteps sounded behind her. Ian entered, sharply dressed in a suit and tie. His gaze fell on Eleanor; she met his eyes, noticing how bloodshot and hollow they looked—exhausted, haunted.

Eleanor couldn't help a cold, inward smile. This wasn't about the divorce. Vanessa must have given him hell last night.

"Mr. Goodwin, you're here. Shall we get started?" Hugh said, all business.

Ian nodded and took a seat on the sofa opposite. His gaze on Eleanor was unreadable—professional, detached, as if they were strangers negotiating a contract.

Eleanor straightened her back and steeled herself. In a matter of minutes, the man before her would be her ex-husband.

"Mrs. Goodwin, this is Mr. Goodwin's proposed divorce agreement. Please review it. If there are no objections, you may sign today." Hugh handed them a thick file.

Eleanor exchanged a glance with Frazier, who took the contract first. "Let's look through it together, Mrs. Goodwin."

She nodded, scooting closer as Frazier opened the document. Eleanor's brow furrowed at the sheer length—it was at least ten pages—but right there in the first clause, it stated plainly: Custody of their daughter Evelyn would go to Eleanor, and Evelyn would live with her.