No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 531

Eleanor slipped her phone back into her purse and strolled toward the father and daughter building sandcastles on the beach.

“Mom, look! Dad helped me make this castle,” Evelyn called out, pointing excitedly at a lumpy mound of sand adorned with seashells.

Eleanor smiled warmly at her daughter. Rarely did she get the chance to spend a whole day with Evelyn, and she was determined to make it a happy one.

Just then, her phone vibrated again. Expecting it to be Vanessa, she glanced down, only to see Joy’s name flashing across the screen. Eleanor’s lips curved with amusement as she stepped a few yards away to answer privately.

Joy wanted to discuss wedding plans, and Eleanor dove eagerly into the conversation, offering suggestions with genuine enthusiasm. She slipped off her sandals, letting the cool, damp sand squish between her toes as she chatted, the surf whispering at her feet.

From a distance, Ian watched her. With the wind tugging playfully at the wisps of hair around her face and her laughter ringing out, Eleanor seemed lighter than he’d seen her in ages—almost carefree.

“Dad, look at this shell!” Evelyn dug a pearly shell from the sand and held it up for him to see.

Ian pulled his gaze from Eleanor, smiling at his daughter. “That’s a beautiful one.”

Eleanor’s laughter drifted over again, sparkling and bright. Ian couldn’t help but glance back at her, noticing the way she danced along the water’s edge, as radiant as a girl in love.

His expression shifted, shadowed by a flicker of thought. Was that Mansfield Ellington calling her?

“Why is Mom still on the phone?” Evelyn turned, eyes full of hope that her mother would come admire her latest find. Without waiting for an answer, she scrambled up and dashed toward Eleanor.

“Mom, who are you talking to?”

Eleanor knelt to Evelyn’s level. “Just chatting with Joy for a minute more, sweetheart. I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay!” Evelyn beamed and scampered back to her father.

Ian leaned down and asked, “Who’s Mom talking to?”

“It’s Miss Thatcher,” Evelyn replied, glancing up at him.

Eleanor forced a smile. “We have,” she replied softly.

She only planned to stay long enough for Evelyn to rest, then return to the city.

While Ian took Evelyn to wash her hands, Eleanor suddenly found the suite’s vastness claustrophobic. Her breathing grew shallow, and a wave of unease swept over her. Her fingers tightened instinctively around her purse strap as she caught sight of the open door to the master bedroom. Memories came flooding back, unbidden and relentless.

Needing air, Eleanor stepped onto the balcony, letting the sea breeze wash over her. Lost in thought, she sensed someone behind her and spun around, startled. Ian stood there, a bottle of water in hand, his presence unexpectedly intense.

She tensed, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “Stay away from me. Don’t touch me.”

Ian’s eyes darkened. “What’s wrong?”

The question jolted Eleanor back to reality. She knew the past couldn’t be erased, but she refused to let it control her now.