No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 179

Joslyn let out a sigh. "Ma'am, Mr. Carter really is a wonderful father."

There was no denying it—ever since their daughter was born, Ian had truly been a devoted dad.

"Joslyn, could you please go start dinner?" Eleanor said, then headed upstairs to be with her daughter.

Lately, Eleanor had set aside her worries to spend more time with Evelyn. With her mother's love surrounding her and Joel stopping by often to keep her company, Evelyn was genuinely happy.

That morning, at eight o'clock, Eleanor decided to make a trip back to Ian's house to move the piano—she wanted to help Evelyn practice at home.

She sent Ian a message, asking if he was around and if it was convenient for her to come by to move the piano.

Ian replied that it was fine.

So Eleanor arrived at the house with the moving crew. As she stepped out, she noticed a red Ferrari parked in the driveway. The license plate made it clear—it was Vanessa's car.

Eleanor's brow furrowed.

The divorce wasn't even finalized, and he couldn't wait to move Vanessa in?

Hearing the commotion outside, Ian came downstairs from the second floor, dressed in casual lounge clothes, looking relaxed and unhurried.

"We'll leave as soon as the piano's moved," Eleanor said to him, not meeting his eyes.

Ian headed to the water dispenser, picked up Eleanor's usual mug, filled it, and brought it over. "Here, have some water."

Eleanor turned away with a look of distaste. "No, thank you."

Just then, one of the older movers clutched his lower back and groaned, "Oh, slow down—my back's acting up again."

Eleanor had worried about the man's age when they first arrived, and her concern deepened. Someone nearby moved to help.

Before anyone else could react, Ian set down the mug and strode over. "Let me handle this, sir. You take a break."

Eleanor had come in their truck, so she nodded. "Yes, I'll go with you."

Ian turned to the driver. "Drive carefully, all right?"

Grateful for Ian's earlier help with his father, the driver nodded quickly. "Of course, sir."

As Eleanor climbed into the truck, she didn't see Vanessa come downstairs, but her car still sat in the driveway—a silent reminder she was inside.

It wasn't even nine yet. For all Eleanor knew, Vanessa was still in Ian's bed, not even up for the day.

Eleanor brought the piano home and patiently spent her days with Evelyn. A gentle smile had become a constant on her face, filling her daughter's life with poetry and peace.

Three days later, Eleanor's phone rang. It was Magdalen.

"Ellie, is it true? Are you really divorcing Ian?" The older woman's voice trembled, choked with emotion.