No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 496

The meeting wrapped up an hour later. Eleanor hurried out of the lab and made her way back to her office, ready to start drafting her proposal.

She'd barely settled in when Ian appeared, leaning casually against her office doorway instead of coming inside.

“Heard you got a new car?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Eleanor ignored him, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Let me guess—Xavier gave it to you?” Ian narrowed his eyes, pressing further.

She finally looked up, her gaze cool. “Yeah, and so what? I can accept gifts from whoever I please.”

Ian’s expression darkened. He clearly hadn’t expected that answer.

“So, are you serious about Xavier?” His voice was rough, almost strained.

Eleanor gave a sharp little laugh. “What business is it of yours?”

He straightened, tone going cold. “You’re right. It’s none of my business.”

With that, Ian stepped back, tugged at his tie, and slipped back into his usual distant, icy demeanor.

Finally, Eleanor had her peace and could get back to work. She knew exactly what that look on Ian’s face meant. He wasn’t over it—not over the fact that the woman who used to be utterly devoted to him now acted as if he didn’t exist.

Ian didn’t leave the building, though. Instead, he stopped by Simone’s office, flipping through the list of trial participants until he pulled out the file for a patient named Mabel.

“Professor Langley, could you send me a daily report on this patient’s trial results?” he requested.

Simone looked at him in surprise. “Ian, do you know someone with leukemia?”

Ian didn’t answer, just nodded politely. “Thank you for your help.”

With a brief nod, he turned and left.

The following week was a blur of preparation as everyone waited for the new drug’s approval. Eleanor shadowed Simone, meticulously tracking and recording each participant’s progress.

Amidst the chaos, Eleanor was also preparing her speech for the August medical summit.

With the start of summer break, Eleanor had signed Evelyn up for a three-day-a-week summer program at school. Evelyn loved it—she thrived on the creative activities and lively atmosphere.

Eleanor promised herself that as soon as this hectic period ended, she’d take Evelyn on a trip before school started again in September.

That afternoon, after wrapping up reports with Simone, Eleanor’s phone buzzed. Expecting a work message, she glanced at the screen, only to see a text from Mansfield Ellington.

“Eleanor, there’s a package coming your way today. Make sure someone’s home to receive it.”

She blinked in surprise. Had he sent her a gift?

“What did you send?” Eleanor replied, curiosity piqued.

“Can’t say. Top secret,” came Mansfield’s teasing response.

“Oh, come on. Tell me!” she pressed.

“It’s actually not for you,” he admitted.

Eleanor paused, caught off guard. “Then who’s it for?”

“It’s for Evelyn.”

Later, after a shower, Eleanor came downstairs to find Evelyn using Joslyn’s phone for a video call with Ian.

“Daddy, look! I want to show you my fireflies. Mr. Ellington caught them for me and sent them all the way from the research base!”

“Really? Do you like them?” Ian’s deep voice sounded softer than usual.

Eleanor stiffened at the sound.

Evelyn nodded enthusiastically. “I love them, Daddy. They’re amazing.”

“If you’d like, I’ll take you to see even more fireflies someday,” Ian promised, laughter in his voice.

Evelyn’s eyes lit up. “Really? You have to take Mom and me together, okay?”

Just then, Evelyn glanced over her shoulder and noticed Eleanor standing behind her. She swung the camera around. “Daddy, look—Mom’s here too!”

Eleanor, fresh from the shower and dressed in a camisole nightgown, was caught off guard by the sudden attention. She quickly moved out of the frame. “Evelyn, time to get ready for bed.”

“Okay! Bye, Daddy!” Evelyn ended the call, then turned back to observe her fireflies in fascination.

Meanwhile, in the executive suite at Goodwin & Co., Ian stared at the now-dark phone screen, his long fingers absently tracing its edge. A shadow flickered across his face as he swallowed hard, lost in thought.

Just then, his new assistant came in—a young woman in a crisp white blouse and pencil skirt, fresh from her promotion. She’d unbuttoned her shirt just enough to show a hint of skin, her eyes sharp as she sized up Ian’s solitary figure on the sofa, sensing the quiet loneliness that clung to him.

“Mr. Goodwin, would you like a massage to help you relax?” she offered sweetly.

“Leave,” Ian said, his voice cold as steel.

She flinched, fumbling to button her blouse as her cheeks flushed crimson. She made a hasty exit, leaving Ian alone with his thoughts and the silent, empty room.