No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 35

"Go sleep in the bed," Ian said coolly.

Eleanor glanced at her phone—just past midnight. She made up her mind in an instant.

She was going home.

Grabbing her coat and draping it over her shoulders, she picked up her phone. "That's alright. I'll sleep at home tonight."

Ian's hand, halfway through hanging up his suit jacket, paused. Then he slipped the jacket back on and tossed out a cold, "I'm leaving."

He scooped up his phone from the bed, opened the door, and left without another word.

Eleanor stood there for a moment, the chill in the room lingering as if Ian had left some of it behind. She shut her eyes, trying not to let it get to her.

He didn't come back that night. Where he ended up sleeping, Eleanor didn't care.

The next morning, Eleanor headed downstairs to the cheerful sound of her daughter's laughter echoing through the house.

After breakfast, Eleanor was about to take Evelyn home, when Gina stopped her with a firm, "Let Evelyn stay here for a few days! We hardly get to see her, and her grandmother loves having a little life in the house."

Eleanor could only nod and let it go. Ever since she married into the Goodwin family, she'd always been the one to back down.

Unless it ever came to a fight over custody, Eleanor couldn't afford to upset her mother-in-law.

She left Goodwin Manor and drove a slow loop through the city before heading back to her apartment.

When she walked through the door, Joslyn greeted her with a smile. "Welcome home, Mrs. Goodwin."

Eleanor nodded, exhaustion from the restless night showing on her face. She slung her bag over her shoulder and said, "I'm going to rest for a bit. Please don't disturb me."

"Mrs. Goodwin, Mr. Goodwin is home," Joslyn added suddenly.

Eleanor tensed. "When did he get back?"

"I'm not sure. I woke up and saw his shoes and jacket by the door."

Eleanor nodded again and headed upstairs, locking her bedroom door behind her. She didn't want to be disturbed, not by Joslyn, not by Ian.

Around ten, Ian came downstairs looking refreshed. Joslyn asked, "Will you be home for lunch, sir?"

"No," Ian replied curtly.

"Mrs. Goodwin is home," Joslyn reminded him.

Ian paused, adjusting the sapphire cufflinks on his shirt with practiced elegance. "Tell her I'm going out."

"Of course."

As she watched her employer leave, then glanced up at the tightly closed door at the top of the stairs, Joslyn sighed inwardly. The house had always been quiet, but at least Mrs. Goodwin used to care about her husband, used to try. Now she seemed as cold as he was.

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