No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 592

“Get plenty of rest, and don’t forget your medication,” Eleanor reminded him gently before picking up her bag and leaving.

Mansfield watched her go, his head resting back against the pillow. He sighed softly. Even a brief visit was more than he’d hoped for.

On her way back to the hotel, Eleanor texted Ian: *My flight’s at 2 p.m. this afternoon. Bring Evelyn back to the hotel, please.*

*We’re already here,* Ian replied.

When Eleanor arrived, Joslyn had finished packing. Ian led Evelyn over, and just as they reached the lobby, Gavin appeared, wheeling his suitcase. Clearly, they were checking out as well.

“Mom, Dad’s coming home with us,” Evelyn announced cheerfully.

Eleanor had already guessed they’d be on the same flight back to Ashford City.

On the drive to the airport, Evelyn rode with Ian, while Eleanor gazed out the window, watching the scenery slide by. The trip, she thought, had come to a smooth close.

Evelyn was brimming with happiness; in her mind, this had been a family adventure—Mom and Dad together.

Half an hour after takeoff, Evelyn was curled up in Ian’s lap, fast asleep under a thin blanket, her little face serene and peaceful.

Ian bent his head, watching his daughter’s sleeping face. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, his eyes filled with tenderness and adoration, as if he could never get enough of her.

Joslyn watched the scene, her heart full. She had seen, more than anyone, how devoted Ian was to Evelyn. From the moment she was born, she had been his treasure.

Except for that one time—

The time Evelyn fell ill. At first, everyone thought it was just a normal fever, but when the medication didn’t work after three days, they took her to the hospital. That’s when they learned her lungs were badly infected.

It had happened during a nationwide outbreak of a children’s virus. Hospitals everywhere were overflowing, doctors stretched thin and sometimes making mistakes.

That night, Eleanor had forbidden Joslyn from contacting Ian. To this day, he didn’t know that his beloved daughter had undergone a lung lavage procedure. Thankfully, she recovered well, with no side effects.

But if Ian ever learned what Evelyn had endured, Joslyn knew he’d be devastated.

She glanced at Eleanor, who was quietly reading a medical journal. There was a calm, intelligent focus about her now—a far cry from the young woman who once leaned so heavily on Ian.

Eleanor did glance over at her daughter from time to time, but her gaze lingered only on Evelyn’s sleeping face.

When the plane landed, Evelyn was still asleep in her father’s arms, warm and content, unwilling to let go. Ian carried her off the plane and all the way to Eleanor’s car, where Joslyn took Evelyn from him.

“Is Mansfield feeling any better?” Ian asked Eleanor, breaking the silence.

Eleanor frowned, clearly not wanting to answer.

Ian’s jaw tensed, but he quickly returned to his usual, reserved self. “Sorry. I overstepped,” he said quietly, then turned and walked toward another car.

Eleanor climbed in, cradling her daughter, who was still warm from sleep. She caught a faint trace of Ian’s cologne on Evelyn’s clothes—a cool, cedar scent. Frowning, she cracked the window, letting the breeze clear the air.

Entering her office, Eleanor paused in surprise—a bouquet of flowers sat on her desk. Who could have sent them?

Gwenda came in. “Eleanor, someone dropped off flowers for you first thing this morning.”

Eleanor picked up the card tucked into the bouquet: *Congratulations, Miss Sutton—Xavier.*

“Wow! Mr. Vaughn sent them?” Gwenda exclaimed, delighted.

Eleanor hesitated, surprised by Xavier’s thoughtfulness.

“Come on, Eleanor, be honest—are you and Mr. Vaughn dating?” Gwenda whispered. “You can tell me, I swear I won’t breathe a word.”

Eleanor just laughed and shook her head. “We’re just friends.”

After the morning meeting, Byron approached her. “Eleanor, Dr. Windsor’s lab relaunch is next week. He’s invited you and Mr. Goodwin to take part in the ribbon-cutting ceremony.”

Eleanor’s expression soured; she frowned, then stood and walked out.

Just then, Byron’s phone rang. He answered. “Hello, Mr. Goodwin?”

Ian’s low voice came through the line. “I won’t be able to attend Dr. Windsor’s ribbon-cutting. Please send my regrets—I’ll be out of town.”