No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 91

When Joslyn saw her come home, she greeted her with concern. "Ma'am, are you feeling any better?"

"Much better, Joslyn. Could you make me some plain pasta and bring it upstairs?"

"Of course."

Eleanor took a long shower, dried her hair, and changed into a set of soft cotton pajamas. She sat at the upstairs dining nook, quietly eating her pasta.

At nine o'clock that evening, Ian came home. Joslyn stepped forward to announce, "Sir, Madam's back."

Ian paused in the middle of loosening his tie. "When did she get home?"

"Around five this afternoon. She just finished dinner, and I believe she's already asleep."

Ian headed upstairs and walked straight to Eleanor's bedroom. He pushed the door open and entered.

The room was dim, and Eleanor was fast asleep.

He approached the bed, gently pressing his large hand to her forehead—no sign of a fever.

Ian returned to his own room, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked toward the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he emerged in a gray pajama set, picked up his phone, and went back to Eleanor's room.

He lifted the covers and slipped into bed. Eleanor was sleeping so soundly, she didn't even notice someone joining her. Ian carefully cradled her head onto his arm, his tall frame curling protectively around her, fitting himself to her sleeping posture.

At three in the morning, Eleanor was woken by thirst. Suddenly, she realized her head was resting on someone's arm. She turned, and in the darkness, her forehead bumped into a man's hard jaw. The faint scent of cedar drifted in the air.

Eleanor instantly realized Ian was in her bed. Startled, she sat bolt upright and quickly turned on the bedside lamp. Sure enough, Ian lay beside her.

At that moment, he woke as well.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his handsome face clouded with sleep.

A flicker of disgust flashed in Eleanor's eyes as she got out of bed, unwilling to look at him.

Ian's gaze followed her. His sharp features now carried a colder, more forbidding edge.

A moment later, Eleanor opened her bedroom door and shut it firmly behind her.

Only then did she return to bed and manage to fall asleep again.

The next morning, Eleanor came downstairs for breakfast. Ian was already there. His expression, usually calm, now seemed distant and frosty when he looked at her.

Eleanor asked Joslyn to bring her breakfast to the upstairs sitting room—she had no desire to face Ian.

After a while, she heard the sound of Ian's car disappearing through the front gate. As she was eating, her phone rang—a number she didn't recognize. She answered, "Hello?"

"Ms. Sutton, is Evelyn at home?"

Eleanor froze. "Vivian? She's not here—she's at her grandmother's."

"Oh! I just wanted to say goodbye. I'm leaving the country to stay with my grandparents."

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