No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1389

They returned to the hotel for lunch, and in the afternoon, they rested. Eleanor had a video call with her daughter.

The little girl missed her terribly. Eleanor told her they would see each other the morning after next, which finally cheered her up.

For dinner, Ian invited Eleanor to the restaurant on the top floor. She didn't refuse. It was a seafood restaurant that served exquisite dishes. In the distance, the light from a lighthouse shone like a beacon in the darkness, guiding lost people toward the right path.

Halfway through dinner, Ian's gaze on Eleanor deepened, and his tone became more serious. "About Vanessa—I need to be completely honest with you. When we get back, I will give you everything about what happened between her and me back then, including all records of our interactions. I will hide absolutely nothing."

Eleanor was taken aback. She shook her head. "That's not necessary. I know there was nothing between you two."

After everything that had happened, she knew exactly what kind of person Vanessa was.

A scheming woman who used every opportunity to create misunderstandings and discord. The so-called 'evidence' and 'ambiguity' of the past were nothing more than smoke and mirrors thrown up by Vanessa. Eleanor had figured that out long ago.

"I don't need to see any records, and I don't want to think about unpleasant things. It would be a waste of both our time," Eleanor said rationally.

As she finished speaking, a large hand covered hers on the table. Eleanor looked up at him again, meeting a pair of candid, deep eyes. "No. I want us to have the same information. I don't want any more misunderstandings or barriers between us."

Eleanor froze, trying to pull her hand back. "There's no need. It's pointless to rehash the past—"

"I'm not asking for your forgiveness, nor am I making excuses for my past. I just hope that we can rebuild a foundation of trust between us," Ian's voice carried the weight of a confession.

Eleanor was silent for a moment, feeling the firm pressure of his palm. She let him hold her hand and gave a slight nod. "Okay."

Her answer made the sharp lines of his brows soften into a curve, as if stars had suddenly lit up in his dark eyes.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely. A thousand words were ultimately distilled into those two.