No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1206

Eleanor watched her leave, a mix of emotions churning within her. She pulled her gaze back, took a deep breath, and finally entered Mansfield's room with Principal Maxwell.

The room was exceptionally quiet, filled only with the rhythmic beeping of medical instruments. Mansfield lay silently on the bed, looking as if he had simply fallen into a deep sleep. But his pale complexion and increasingly gaunt cheeks silently spoke of the ordeal he was enduring.

Eleanor walked closer step by step and sat down gently in the chair beside his bed. She gazed at Mansfield's sleeping face, a thousand words caught in her throat, her heart twisting into a tight knot.

"Mansfield," Eleanor called his name softly, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly. "I came to see you. Don't worry, I'll push the research forward as fast as I can. You have to hold on. Wait for me."

Beside her, Principal Maxwell quietly stepped out of the room, leaving her to be with Mansfield in peace.

Eleanor said nothing more. She just sat with him quietly, carefully reaching out to hold the hand that wasn't connected to an IV line, feeling the chill of his fingertips.

As Eleanor felt his faint life signs and looked at his resolute face and the location of his injuries, she could sense his bravery on the battlefield. Her heart ached, but it wasn't the heart-wrenching pain of a lover.

It was a deeper, more complex emotion—pity, pride, sorrow, and worry.

He was an intimate friend she admired, or perhaps like the outstanding boy-next-door who would risk everything for his beliefs. Eleanor felt a sense of protectiveness and responsibility toward Mansfield.

She wanted him to be well, to be safe, to see his ambitions fulfilled and his dreams realized.

This hope was very similar to her hopes for her daughter; they were both people she cared about deeply.

On the journey back, Eleanor's mindset had quietly shifted. Her focus was now clearer. The turmoil caused by her ambiguous feelings had dissipated, leaving only a powerful sense of responsibility.

—Wake Mansfield, at any cost.

Two hours later at Ashford City Airport, the city lights were just beginning to glitter outside the cabin window. Eleanor, feeling drained, followed the stream of people toward the exit. The day's travel, the intense stress, and the heavy weight of Mansfield's condition had taken a toll on her spirit.

Ellington was supposed to pick her up, but as Eleanor walked out of the arrivals area, she was surprised to see a tall figure and a striking head of silver-grey hair in the crowd.

Ian stood there, his posture straight and tall, standing out in the crowd. He was dressed simply in a dark shirt and slacks, his deep eyes locked onto her, calm and focused.