No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1370

The plane landed smoothly. The moment Eleanor stepped off, her phone buzzed with a text.

[Let me know when you've landed.]

She replied, [I've arrived. Thanks for checking.]

Behind her, Lanny pushed her luggage, having seamlessly taken on the role of her bodyguard.

"Lanny, thank you," Eleanor said to him.

"It's my duty," he replied.

Just then, a private car pulled up in front of Eleanor. After a brief exchange with the driver, Lanny turned to her. "This is the car Mr. Goodwin arranged for you. Please, Miss Sutton."

Eleanor looked at the luxury car and said nothing more, obediently getting in. She knew that any refusal or polite protest at this point would seem forced.

Since Ian had already gone to such lengths, the best she could do was accept.

The car drove smoothly toward the city, with Lanny in the front passenger seat.

The conference was being held at a top university in Montclair, and her hotel was conveniently located just two hundred meters from the campus.

After checking into her room, Eleanor unpacked and got back to work, preparing for the busy week ahead.

After typing for half an hour, her eyes felt dry. She gazed out the window at the foreign streetscape, and the thought of Ian's arrangements for this trip rippled through her heart like a pebble dropped into a calm lake.

She knew he was using his own methods to quietly make amends, to get closer to her again.

Eleanor closed her eyes. So much had happened in the past three years. Many misunderstandings had been cleared up, and her feelings toward Ian had shifted from the coldness of their divorce to a calm acceptance of his presence.

Watching them disappear, Eleanor felt as if that scene had been a key, unlocking a long-sealed box deep within her memory.

Time seemed to rewind to an early summer afternoon, at a corner in the hospital.

She had just graduated from high school and had been accepted into Ashford Medical University. She loved to take a book to the library corner in her father's hospital, reading while she waited for him to finish work.

And on that particular day, she had run into someone. She was in a hurry, and so was he. Before either could react, they crashed into each other with a heavy impact.

A stack of papers she had just printed scattered across the floor. She didn't even have time to see who she'd hit.

She quickly apologized and bent down to pick up the papers.

She felt the other person kneel down as well. She saw a pair of long, clean hands helping her. On the very last sheet of paper, her hand reached out just as his closed over it—