No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 501

Principal Maxwell laughed heartily, raising his glass toward Ian Goodwin. “Naturally. With someone as talented as Eleanor, she’ll have our full support.”

Simone Langley watched the exchange with satisfaction. With Ian managing the lab’s external relations, future support for their research was practically guaranteed.

Soon, another professor steered the conversation toward renewable energy.

As dinner drew to a close, the professors were reluctant to part ways. Someone suggested continuing the evening at one of their homes, and the group eagerly agreed.

They piled into a waiting car. Simone turned to Eleanor Sutton. “Eleanor, let Ian drive you back to the convention center, alright?”

Eleanor’s car was parked there.

“Go ahead, Professor Langley. I’ll make my own arrangements.” Eleanor waved as the group climbed into the car and drove off.

“I’ll drive you,” Ian said quietly at her side.

“That’s not necessary. I’ll get a cab.” Eleanor’s tone was frosty, her expression colder than a winter morning.

“It’s not far—barely ten minutes.” Ian was clearly determined.

Just then, a taxi Eleanor had flagged down from a distance pulled up. Without another word, she opened the door and slid inside.

The driver glanced at Ian standing outside and couldn’t help himself. “Miss, your boyfriend’s still out there!”

Fastening her seatbelt, Eleanor replied, her voice chilly, “I don’t know him.”

The car windows were rolled down, so Ian caught every word. He narrowed his eyes, lips pressed tight.

The driver quickly realized he’d just witnessed a lovers’ spat. He wisely kept quiet, asked for her destination, and pulled away.

Still, he couldn’t help but think to himself—those two made one stunning couple.

When Eleanor arrived at the convention center, she walked straight to the parking lot, then drove toward the research facility. She arrived around half past two. In her office, a bouquet from Xavier Vaughn stood in a vase, brightening the space.

Gwenda came in with a stack of files. “Beautiful flowers, aren’t they? Do you know what champagne roses mean?”

Eleanor shook her head, not really interested.

“The meaning is: ‘Loving you is the greatest happiness of my life. Missing you is the sweetest pain. In this lifetime, I love only you.’” Gwenda recited as if reading from a book.

Eleanor glanced at her, a little embarrassed. “Where’d you find that?”

“I looked it up! These roses aren’t cheap, you know.” Gwenda grinned.

She watched as the first injection was administered. Simone glanced at her, gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and Eleanor nodded resolutely in return.

The second and third days passed with Eleanor on edge, barely sleeping. On the fourth morning, her daughter called, begging to stay a little longer with the Goodwins. Eleanor agreed.

After lunch, Eleanor sat in her makeshift office at the hospital, reviewing data. The hallway outside was unusually quiet. Weariness crashed over her, and she rested her head on her arms, drifting into sleep almost instantly.

Just then, a nurse led someone down the corridor. “This is Miss Sutton’s temporary office.”

The door opened. The nurse saw Eleanor sleeping at her desk and whispered to the man beside her, “Dr. Sutton must be exhausted. She’s been staying late at the hospital every night.”

The visitor was none other than Ian.

He’d found a moment to stop by after speaking with Simone. As the project’s sole investor—and with the drug’s patent registered to his lab—he had every reason to check in on the progress.

“Thank you, I’ll take it from here,” Ian said softly.

His deep, gentle voice made the nurse’s heart skip a beat. Blushing furiously, she excused herself.

Ian stepped inside and quietly closed the door. He leaned on the desk, his gaze falling on the woman sleeping there.

She was turned slightly on her side, cheek resting on her arm, hair slipping free from its bun, lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. Her breathing was deep and even—completely lost to sleep.