No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 288

“Brilliant!” Professor Moore slapped the table in delight. “That’s exactly the right approach.”

Principal Maxwell chuckled, cutting in. “Well, Moore, convinced now? I’ve been saying all along this young woman is something special.”

“Special doesn't even begin to cover it,” a female professor chimed in.

Eleanor’s eyes widened with admiration as she looked at her—a renowned authority in neural repair, Professor Wyndham.

“Miss Sutton’s theoretical framework is cutting-edge. It could solve countless problems in the future,” Professor Wyndham said warmly. “Eleanor, I’d love to invite you to spend a few days at our lab. What do you say?”

The invitation landed like a bombshell, sparking a low buzz of excitement around the dinner table.

Professor Wyndham’s lab was the dream destination for young scholars—her personal invitations were exceedingly rare.

Eleanor was momentarily at a loss for words. Instinctively, she glanced at Dr. Lyman, who smiled reassuringly. “Of course. I’ll help arrange your schedule.”

Across the table, Ian was deep in conversation with a visiting expert, but glanced over at the commotion.

“I’m truly honored,” Eleanor managed, steadying her nerves. Surrounded by so many esteemed colleagues, she still felt a bit anxious. “Professor Wyndham, my current project is at a critical stage…”

“No rush, no rush,” Professor Wyndham said with a gentle smile. “We’ll stay in touch. Come whenever you’re free.”

“Thank you, Professor Wyndham.” Eleanor nodded, returning the smile.

That afternoon, the academic discussions resumed. Eleanor took part, while assistants snapped photos throughout.

After dinner, back in her guest room, Eleanor rubbed her sore neck; even her cheeks ached from smiling so much.

Still, the day’s exchange had inspired her deeply.

By the time Ian boarded, all the seats around Eleanor were taken by eager male students, so he took a spot further up front.

Even if they didn’t dare talk to Eleanor, just sitting near her made the ride feel magical. Not only was Eleanor brilliant, but she was strikingly beautiful—brains and beauty in perfect harmony.

At the exhibition center, the group followed a guide through the displays, Eleanor snapping photos on her phone. As she tried to step back for a better shot, she suddenly felt her foot land on something—or rather, someone.

Startled, she looked down. An arm wrapped firmly around her waist, steadying her.

Eleanor turned. She’d stepped on Ian.

Her apologetic look quickly turned to annoyance as she pried his arm from her waist. “Don’t touch me.”

Ian narrowed his eyes at her. Once, they’d been husband and wife. Now, they were worse than strangers.