"Why did it suddenly fall on the floor?" Eleanor asked, wiping her daughter's little face.
"I don't know. It just slipped and fell," Evelyn replied, looking crestfallen.
Eleanor's hand paused mid-motion. Why had it fallen like that? Did someone deliberately knock it over after hearing Evelyn wanted to take the cake home?
A cold glint flashed in Eleanor's eyes. It must have been Vanessa. She was always trying to win Ian's favor through Evelyn, so of course she'd seize any chance to sabotage the bond between mother and daughter.
But at least her precious girl's love had come back to her.
"It's alright, sweetheart. Next time, we'll bake an even prettier cake together," Eleanor comforted her gently.
"Okay! Mommy, why aren't you working?" Evelyn suddenly asked.
Eleanor was caught off guard. "Why do you ask, Evelyn?"
"Because Aunt Vanessa said you never work, that you just stay home all day. She said you depend on Daddy to take care of you, and that you cling to him like a leech…" Evelyn puffed out her cheeks, clearly sensing the words were meant to insult her mother, even if she didn't understand all of them.
Eleanor smiled, trying to reassure her. "Mommy has a job now. Soon, I'll earn lots of money and take care of you. How does that sound?"
"Yeah! Go, Mommy!" Evelyn grinned, her worries forgotten.
Eleanor ruffled her daughter's hair. The Goodwin family's opinions didn't matter anymore. Sooner or later, she and Ian would divorce, and when that happened, the Goodwins would have nothing to do with her or Evelyn.
After a shower, Eleanor came out to find Ian sitting on the edge of the bed. From her angle, she could see the softness in his features—a gentleness he reserved only for their daughter. His dark brows shadowed his eyes, lashes long and thick, the strange tenderness almost jarring.
It was Faye.
"Sure, I'm free after three," Joel replied.
"Great, thank you!" Faye's eyes sparkled with excitement.
Eleanor checked her watch. "Joel, I'll head back now."
"Alright. Drive safe," Joel said, giving her a quick nod before heading off himself.
Eleanor had just stepped off the curb when someone called her name. "Eleanor, can we talk?"

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor)