No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 978

At this time, Henry's phone lit up with a call from Vanessa.

He had almost forgotten he was there to take her home. He immediately headed toward her booth.

As he approached, he saw Vanessa bathed in a soft spotlight. Her face was flushed, her eyes hazy and alluring, exuding a lazy, fragile vulnerability from the alcohol. She greeted him with a smile playing on her red lips.

"Henry, you're here."

As Henry sat down, his gaze drifted back toward Selma's table. Just then, she stood up and looked in his direction. Henry's body went rigid.

Though it was just a glance, Selma's eyes felt like two needles, making him squirm in his seat.

"Vanessa, stop drinking. I'm taking you home," Henry said, trying to fulfill his duty as a friend.

Vanessa just smiled. "I asked you to come drink with me. Why are you trying to send me home the second you arrive?"

"Doesn't Ian forbid you from drinking? Why did you start?" Henry frowned.

"Henry, what kind of relationship do you think he and I have? Friends? Lovers? I'll tell you, it's neither," Vanessa said, shaking her head in mock pain.

Henry froze. This was the first time Vanessa had ever spoken so candidly about her relationship with Ian. He couldn't help but ask, "Then what are you?"

"Henry, if I told you we just have a business arrangement, would you believe me?" Vanessa propped her chin on her hand, her expression seductive. "We aren't even friends in the most basic sense."

"You want to say, why would I degrade myself like this?" Vanessa finished for him, letting out a small laugh that held no humor. "What was the alternative? Was I supposed to rot in a slum in Drexford? Let my mother marry me off to some lowlife like a piece of property? I don't care if people look down on me. I had to change my own fate."

Henry stared at her, at a loss for words.

"Henry, my deal with Ian is almost over. He doesn't need me anymore. From now on… from now on, I only have you." Vanessa reached out, her hand covering Henry's where it rested on the table. "I know you're good to me. Not like Ian's cold, transactional way. You genuinely care about me, don't you?"

She looked up, her eyes wide and pleading, like a lost kitten who had finally found a warm place to rest.

Henry's mind was in utter turmoil. Vanessa's hand on his felt unnaturally cold. He should have held it back.