No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 688

Eleanor glanced up. Sure enough, snowflakes had begun to drift down outside the window, swirling under the streetlights and painting the world in a spectacular hush.

At the table, Ian and Evelyn were deep in discussion about dinner. Ian patiently explained the menu to his daughter, pointing out the choices. Meanwhile, Eleanor had already settled on her own order.

As soon as she finished, Ian’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then stood up. “I’ll take this call,” he said, stepping away.

Left at the table, Eleanor pulled out her phone and snapped a few adorable photos of Evelyn. Just then, Evelyn’s eyes wandered to the next table, where a little girl sat in front of a whimsically shaped ice cream sundae—something Evelyn recognized from her own memories.

“What are you thinking about?” Eleanor asked, noticing her daughter’s sudden quiet.

“Mom, I’ve had that ice cream before,” Evelyn replied, her voice soft with nostalgia.

Eleanor stiffened ever so slightly. That particular sundae was only served at a restaurant in Drexford—nowhere else. Clearly, Ian must have brought Evelyn there before, perhaps with Vanessa, leaving an impression on their daughter.

Eleanor’s heart softened as she watched Evelyn steal glance after glance at the dessert. She leaned in, her voice gentle. “Evelyn, if you’d like, I can order one for us. But let’s share it together, okay?”

Evelyn’s face lit up. “Yes, Mom! Let’s share.”

Eleanor called over the waiter and ordered the same playful sundae. When it arrived, she and Evelyn dug in together, laughter and sweetness shared between them.

A few minutes later, Ian returned. He sat down, watching as his daughter and Eleanor enjoyed the ice cream together, their faces bright with happiness.

“Mom, you’ve got cream on your lips!” Evelyn giggled, pointing with a tiny finger.

Eleanor reached for a napkin, but before she could, she instinctively licked the cream away and wiped her mouth with her hand.

Across the table, Ian’s gaze darkened for a moment. He silently pulled a napkin from the holder and offered it to her.

When the main course arrived, Eleanor focused solely on helping Evelyn with her meal, never once glancing at Ian on the other side of the table.

By seven-thirty, Eleanor was in one of the hotel’s meeting rooms, preparing to meet with Smith.

“Dr. Sutton, it’s been a while,” Smith greeted her, accompanied by two assistants.

“Dr. Smith, good evening,” Eleanor replied politely.

Just then, Ian arrived, holding Evelyn’s hand. Before Eleanor could react, Smith’s face broke into a delighted grin as he greeted Evelyn warmly. “Well, if it isn’t our little angel—look how much you’ve grown!”

Eleanor’s heart skipped a beat. Smith knows my daughter?