No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 409

Eleanor hadn’t expected Vanessa to turn up at all—certainly not as a bridesmaid.

Vanessa, for her part, spotted Eleanor almost instantly. Noticing Xavier seated at Eleanor’s side, she offered a faint, enigmatic smile before turning her attention forward, focusing on the couple at the altar.

The ceremony began in earnest. With the officiant guiding them, the bride and groom exchanged rings and vows. Applause erupted throughout the chapel, and Eleanor joined in, clapping along with the crowd.

Xavier applauded too, but his eyes kept drifting to Eleanor, searching her face. On a day as festive as this, was she thinking about her own wedding—the one from years ago?

The memory was still vivid for him: Eleanor, radiant and beaming, arm in arm with Ian. Back then, Xavier had offered his heartfelt congratulations to his best friend, never imagining how things would change.

Afterward, Eleanor had quietly vanished from Ian’s social circle. Rumor had it she was staying home, devoted to domestic life as a full-time wife.

Then, everything shifted the day he saw her abroad—poised and graceful as she took the stage to play a piece on the piano. Perhaps that was when she first caught his heart.

Later came that day at the lake. When Eleanor slipped into the water, and as Ian dove in after Vanessa, Xavier didn’t hesitate—he jumped in to save Eleanor.

Another time, as he was heading home, he saw her standing beneath a streetlamp, shivering in the cold, so fragile and alone. An urge to protect her welled up inside him, and from that moment, he couldn’t help paying more attention to her.

He knew perfectly well it was taboo to covet his friend’s wife—but still...

He never imagined it would end in divorce.

Now, watching Eleanor’s calm, composed face, untouched by the ceremony’s emotion, Xavier felt the corner of his mouth lift in quiet relief.

Onstage, the bride turned to the crowd, her voice sweet through the microphone. “Now, ladies, I’m going to toss my bouquet. I hope to pass along a bit of today’s happiness. Ready? Here we go!”

The bridesmaids—all single—gathered at the front, joined by other unmarried women eager to catch the bride’s luck.

Vanessa’s eyes lit up with anticipation. She watched the bride’s movements closely, ready to pounce.

The bride laughed, turned her back to the crowd, and launched the bouquet high overhead.

A spray of white roses soared in a graceful arc, every eye tracing its flight.

There was a flurry of elbows and laughter as the bridesmaids jostled for position.

But—

Smack!

The bouquet arced past the eager crowd, landing squarely in the lap of a guest at the head table.

It was Ian.

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