No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1231

The elevator descended to the twenty-seventh floor. The cool-toned decor made the apartment feel even colder. Ian loosened his tie and walked straight to the dressing room, changing into sweatpants before heading to the gym. The sweltering heat of the night mingled with the emptiness in his heart, and he desperately needed an outlet.

The rhythmic hum of the treadmill filled the room as sweat quickly soaked his back. For the two years since their divorce, nights like this had become the norm.

By day, he was a strategic titan of industry, but by night, he could only exhaust his body with exercise.

Summer nights like this were particularly difficult, the air thick with a restless energy that frayed his most sensitive nerves.

His mind was filled with the image of Eleanor's alluring figure from earlier. The days and nights they had once shared flooded his memory with startling clarity.

After a high-intensity set, he leaned on the machine, breathing heavily. Beads of sweat glistened on his tan skin. The lean, powerful lines of his hips and the defined V-cut of his abs disappeared into his sweatpants. As his chest rose and fell, he straightened up, the well-defined muscles of his back flaring—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, a near-perfect physique.

He headed straight for the shower and stepped under the icy water, hoping it would cool the heat coiled tight inside him.

***

The next morning, Eleanor received a phone call that left her mind blank for a few seconds.

Principal Maxwell had decided to move Mansfield to Ashford City to coordinate with the Neural Interface Project and ensure that the technology could be deployed precisely when it was most needed.

Eleanor took a deep breath and pulled herself together. There was still so much to do.

But she couldn't help herself. After Principal Maxwell called to confirm the arrangements, she used her lunch break to go to the hospital.

Principal Maxwell was discussing something with the hospital director. Eleanor sat gently by the bedside, looking at Mansfield's face, which seemed to have grown even thinner. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Just then, a nurse brought in a some warm water and a towel, preparing to give him a sponge bath. Eleanor reached out. "Let me do it."

She carefully washed Mansfield's face, her movements gentle and meticulous.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway—Ian.

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