No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 74

Eleanor clenched her jaw, feeling foolish. She realized she'd been naïve—Ian was a man of action. If Vanessa wanted to see him, all she had to do was call, and he'd drop everything to be by her side. Why would they need to exchange sentimental messages online?

Anything romantic he wanted to say, he could say to Vanessa in person. All these years, Ian had been flying across continents, practically living on planes, and it had all been for her.

After all that pointless searching, Eleanor stared out the window at the quiet dusk, her knuckles white as she gripped Ian's phone, a wave of resentment rising in her chest.

She pushed open the door and slipped back into the master bedroom. Setting the phone on the nightstand, she turned to leave—only to feel a strong hand clamp around her wrist and yank her down beside the bed.

Caught off guard, Eleanor tumbled into Ian's arms. She looked up in alarm; in the dim light, his bloodshot eyes flickered open, every bit of pent-up desire plain on his face.

His hand was hot through the fabric of her sleeve, the sensation sharp and unwelcome as a pinprick. She wrenched herself free and snapped, "Don't touch me."

Ian's arm circled her waist, his chiseled features drawn tight. "Still not ready to make up?"

Eleanor almost laughed at the memory of how easy she used to be. Back then, she'd forgive him for anything—a gift, a sweet word, a gentle pat on the head—and she'd welcome him home, beaming like a princess.

Shoving him away, she stood in front of the bed and shot him a sidelong glance. "Ian, I'm not that easy anymore."

With that, she turned on her heel and left the room.

Closing the door behind her, Eleanor called Joy for advice.

On the other end, Joy sounded stumped and let out a sigh. "We were too naïve. You really think Ian would leave evidence on his phone? Men like him never just have one phone. For all we know, he's got a separate one just for Vanessa."

Eleanor found herself agreeing at once.

"Honestly, guys with money and power always keep a spare phone. Bet he uses another one to stay in touch with her," Joy went on.

No wonder Ian had let her check his phone so easily—he knew she wouldn't find anything incriminating.

"Look, Mommy! Mr. Vaughn gave me a present!" Evelyn held up a pretty little doll.

Eleanor couldn't help but smile—Xavier spoiled that child rotten.

She ruffled Evelyn's hair. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

"Okay, Mommy!" Evelyn squealed, happily slipping her hand into her mother's as they went upstairs.

Eleanor ignored the figure standing downstairs. If Ian's phone held no proof, there was no reason to pretend things were fine between them.

She gave Evelyn a warm bath, then scooped her into her arms and planted a kiss on her cheek. With her waist-length hair tumbling down her back, Evelyn looked just like one of Eleanor's cherished porcelain dolls—so cute and beautiful.

After her bath, Evelyn disappeared into her dad's room to play. By ten o'clock, she still hadn't come back, so Eleanor got up and went to the master bedroom to look for her.