No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 800

Seeing the look on Vanessa’s face, Faye finally let out a secret sigh of relief. Eleanor already had too much; it was only fair that she lost something for once. Otherwise, the world would be simply too unjust.

After staying for about half an hour, Faye stood to leave. Not long after, Serena arrived carrying takeout dinner, joining Vanessa for the meal. She avoided mentioning her eldest brother, steering the conversation toward lighter topics in hopes of cheering Vanessa up.

Close to midnight, Xavier was half-asleep in bed when his phone buzzed. Henry was calling, slurring his words and clearly already tipsy, inviting him out for a drink.

Without hesitation, Xavier threw off his robe and dressed in casual clothes. He found Henry at a bar downtown, slouched over a table with his assistant sitting nearby, visibly at a loss.

The assistant looked up at Xavier as if salvation had arrived. “Mr. Vaughn, thank goodness you’re here. I can’t get Mr. Holt to stop—he’s already put away three bottles.”

Xavier’s gaze flicked to the three empty whiskey bottles on the table. That was definitely Henry’s limit. He nodded to the assistant. “I’ll get him home. You go on ahead.”

The assistant, looking exhausted, grabbed his bag and left.

Xavier patted Henry’s cheek. Henry blinked blearily at him, then managed a crooked smile. “Knew you’d come. That’s real friendship—a call and you’re here.”

“What’s going on?” Xavier poured himself a cup of tea and took a slow sip.

“Nothing much. Just feeling down. Thought I’d have a few drinks.”

“If you don’t tell me what’s really up, I’m leaving,” Xavier replied flatly, already half-rising from his seat.

“Alright, alright. Vanessa landed herself in the hospital with food poisoning yesterday. Had to have her stomach pumped. I’ve been worried sick—so here I am.”

But Xavier could read him too well. He saw straight through to the real problem: Henry wasn’t just upset about Vanessa’s illness. He’d been hurt again, caught between Vanessa and Ian.

“Henry, I’ll be honest with you—Vanessa’s not right for you. Move on, find someone else,” Xavier said quietly.

Henry looked up, forcing a bitter smile. “And what about you? Could you leave Eleanor behind and just find someone else?”

“Am I a complete failure?” Henry muttered, collapsing onto the table. His voice was thick and indistinct, but the pain and self-mockery were unmistakable. “Where do I even stand in her life? Why is it that all she needs is Ian—why is just seeing him enough?”

Xavier understood that ache all too well—the pain of loving someone who didn’t love you back. He couldn’t scold Henry, couldn’t find the words, so instead he hauled him out to the car and drove him home.

On the drive through the city, neon lights played across Xavier’s face. Henry’s obsession with Vanessa was like a mirror, reflecting Xavier’s own worries about the future with Eleanor.

If Eleanor did end up marrying Mansfield, maybe Xavier would drink himself into oblivion, too.

But their situations weren’t entirely the same. Eleanor didn’t treat him with cold indifference; at least, they were genuine friends.

Still, Mansfield was a remarkable man, and it was clear he was deeply interested in Eleanor. She might see him as a friend now, but who knew what could happen in the future? When two outstanding people spent enough time together, it was only a matter of time before feelings developed.

After dropping Henry off, Xavier stuck around out of concern, crashing for the night on his friend’s sofa.