No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 245

Ian’s eyes turned cold. “What happens between me and Eleanor is none of your business.”

Joel looked at the man responsible for Eleanor’s collapse, but still turned and left.

Ian pressed down on the door handle and stepped quietly to the edge of Eleanor’s bed. He gazed down at the sleeping woman—her face pale, eyelashes casting fragile shadows across her cheeks.

Suddenly, Eleanor jolted awake, sitting straight up in bed and calling out anxiously, “Evelyn!”

When she saw Ian standing at her bedside, a flicker of confusion flashed through her eyes.

“Evelyn’s at my mother’s place. Just rest now,” Ian said gently.

A wave of relief washed over Eleanor. Raking her fingers through her hair, she let herself relax a little. She’d been stretched thin caring for her daughter, nerves wound tight, and it was no surprise exhaustion had finally caught up with her.

Leaning back against the pillows, Eleanor closed her eyes; her head was still spinning.

Just then, Joel returned, pushing open the door. Seeing her awake, he approached. “Are you feeling any other discomfort?”

Eleanor shook her head. She knew her body well enough—what she needed was a good night’s sleep.

“Would you rather go home,” Joel asked, “or stay for observation?”

“I want to go home,” Eleanor replied.

Ian narrowed his eyes at her. “Evelyn will stay at my mom’s for a couple of days. You need to focus on getting better.”

“That’s not necessary,” Eleanor said coolly. “I can take care of her. Bring her home.”

“You need rest,” Ian insisted, frowning.

She met his gaze, her voice frosty. “I can’t rest without my daughter by my side.”

Vanessa was pregnant now, and Gina’s attention would likely be on her. There was a good chance Evelyn would be spending more time at the Goodwin estate—and Eleanor had no intention of letting her daughter become too close to that household.

“Fine. I’ll bring Evelyn back to you,” Ian said at last, then turned and left.

She arranged to meet Joy for lunch, determined to take a proper break.

Joy had made a reservation at a new restaurant, reputed for its fresh, wild-caught seafood. Eleanor was happy to join her—the booking had been made a week in advance.

The restaurant’s decor was striking, and the pair were shown to a private booth partitioned from the main hall, creating a cozy, tranquil space.

After ordering, Joy excused herself to the restroom. Eleanor scrolled through her phone, only to be interrupted by a burst of laughter—a woman’s cheerful voice.

“It’s new! I’ll bring you here to try it sometime—yes, let’s set a date.”

“Right this way, ladies,” the server said, ushering two guests in.

Eleanor looked up instinctively and saw Vanessa and Ian walking in.

Vanessa led the way, all curves and confidence, her every move radiating allure. Ian followed, refined and composed, carrying a woman’s handbag in one hand—like a gallant knight catering to his princess.