No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1232

Just then, a woman's voice came from behind him. "Thank you."

Ian turned in surprise and met Eleanor's clear gaze, which was filled with sincere gratitude. She had clearly overheard his conversation with Principal Maxwell.

"You're welcome," Ian replied softly.

"This equipment is very important for Mansfield's treatment. I thank you on his behalf."

Ian lowered his eyes, his thick lashes casting a shadow on his cheeks. Eleanor's words confirmed Mansfield's place in her heart. They were already like family.

Principal Maxwell spoke up at the right moment. "Ellie, with Ian's help, I'm sure Mansfield's treatment will go smoothly."

Eleanor nodded, her gaze shifting back to Ian. She knew this equipment was hard to get; he had obviously gone to great lengths.

Principal Maxwell glanced at his watch. "I have to get to a meeting."

They both nodded and watched him leave. Once he was gone, Eleanor said to Ian, "I'm going to stay a little longer. You should go if you have things to do."

With that, she turned and went back into the hospital room. Ian stood in the hallway for a moment before heading toward the elevators.

As he left the hospital, the afternoon sun was blinding. He got into his car but didn't start the engine right away. He replayed the way Eleanor had looked at him—sincere and composed, as if the history and resentment between them had vanished.

She no longer hated him, nor did she hold any expectations. She calmly accepted his help, thanking him on behalf of another man.

His phone buzzed with a message from one of his managers. [Mr. Goodwin, Drexford has confirmed the equipment will ship tomorrow.]

He typed back, [Oversee the entire process. Ensure there are no mistakes.]

Eleanor nodded. "You can head to bed."

Joslyn returned to her room. Feeling a wave of exhaustion, Eleanor carried her bag upstairs. She checked the master bedroom, but her daughter wasn't there. She then went to the small den on the second floor. There, under the warm lamplight, Ian was leaning back on the sofa with Evelyn sleeping soundly in his arms. He was resting his head against the backrest, and she couldn't tell if his eyes were closed or if he had fallen asleep.

Eleanor froze for a moment. The scene stirred up memories of times past when the father and daughter would snuggle together, Evelyn's little hand clutching his shirt.

The cold severity of his daytime demeanor was gone, replaced by a hint of weariness in his expression. Lately, he had been dealing with company affairs, managing the board, and sharing the responsibility of caring for their daughter. It was clear he was tired.

She was hesitating whether to wake him when he suddenly opened his eyes. Their gazes met, and for a fleeting moment, a flicker of confusion crossed his face before it cleared.

"You're back," he said in a low voice, carefully adjusting their daughter in his arms.