No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1620

Eleanor let out a bright laugh. "Aren't we a little old to be going on dates?"

Ian tightened his grip on her hand and countered in a low, husky voice, "We're in our early thirties—our absolute prime. In my eyes, Dr. Sutton is at the absolute peak of her allure."

The teasing was almost too much. Eleanor tried to pull her hand back. "You're full of it."

But Ian refused to let go. He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he murmured a low plea, "Please humor me, Dr. Sutton."

Eleanor thought about it for a moment, but nothing immediately sprang to mind. "Where did you want to go?"

"If you don't have anywhere specific in mind, then leave the destination up to me," Ian suggested.

Eleanor looked at him and nodded. "Alright. You pick."

—

After navigating out of the congested downtown traffic, Ian's car merged onto a highway heading straight for the coastline. Gazing at the breathtaking sunset on the horizon, a flood of long-buried memories suddenly washed over Eleanor.

She had a pretty good idea of where this man was taking her!

It was The Bayview Resort, a luxury hotel nestled along the coast, nearly a hundred miles away from Ashford City. Ian owned a private presidential suite there, a place that used to be their designated romantic getaway right after they got married.

As they cruised smoothly along The Coastal Highway, Ian seemed to pick up on her sudden quietness. "Did I pick the wrong place?" he asked softly.

Back when their marriage was drowning in an abyss of fatal misunderstandings, Ian had tried bringing her back here in a desperate attempt to salvage what was left of them. But that night, Eleanor had fiercely refused to step foot in the suite, her resistance explosive and absolute.

Just a few days after that disastrous trip, Eleanor served him with divorce papers. It was only then that he realized just how utterly unbreakable her resolve to leave him was. He didn't even know how he had survived those agonizing days and nights. He was willing to use any ruthless tactic necessary just to keep her tied to him.

That was why he handed her his eight most lucrative, stable companies as part of the divorce settlement—because every single one of those businesses was heavily intertwined with the operations he kept under his own control.

He had also forced that shamelessly possessive additional clause on her. He knew it was despicable. He knew it was underhanded. But the truth was, he never genuinely intended to let her go. He couldn't bear to lose her.

In that suffocating darkness, he had been clawing like a madman to find any possible angle for them to remarry.

Because for the man he was back then, letting go simply wasn't an option.

"Let's go for a walk," Eleanor replied, her voice soft and soothing.

Revisiting their past might just bring a completely different kind of closure this time.

The car glided smoothly down The Coastal Highway. In the distance, the ocean surface sparkled like crushed diamonds, painting a picture-perfect view.

All those sealed-away memories began bubbling up to the surface.

Ian, however, was clearly anxious about triggering her trauma. "If you don't want to go, we can easily turn around and find somewhere else."

Hearing the extreme caution lacing his words, Eleanor offered a light, easy smile. "I'm just really craving a massive seafood dinner right now."

"Thank you for being willing to come back to me." The man tightened his arms around her like a vice. "Thank you for giving me another chance—"

Eleanor didn't say anything. Instead, she just nestled herself deeper into his embrace.

"Are you hungry?" Ian asked.

"Not yet. I want to go down and walk on the beach for a bit," Eleanor said. After all, who could resist a walk on the sand when they were right by the ocean?

"Alright, I'll go down with you."

The autumn beach, having been baked by the setting sun, was surprisingly warm beneath their feet.

Eleanor walked across the fine, powdery sand, holding her blazer in one hand while her other hand was naturally enveloped in Ian's. Ian was casually carrying her shoes for her.

"Is it cold?" Ian asked, looking down at her bare feet.

"No." Eleanor shook her head with a soft smile. "The sand is warm."

Stepping onto sand that still held the lingering heat of the sun brought an indescribable sense of tranquil comfort.

Suddenly, Ian spoke up. "Do you remember the very first time we came here? You loved this stretch of beach just as much back then."