No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1567

A short while later, Magdalen stirred awake. Seeing her grandchildren and Eleanor gathered around her bed, she forced a weak, comforting smile. "You're all here. I'm fine. I'm just getting old... and a bit useless."

"Grandma..." Serena knelt by the bed, grasping the frail hand, and was the first to break down sobbing.

Eleanor's eyes welled with tears.

Ian sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped his large hands around his grandmother's thin fingers. His voice was thick with emotion. "Grandma, just listen to the doctors. You're going to be okay."

"Silly boy. Life and death are just the natural order of things." Amazingly, it was Magdalen who offered the comfort. She turned her gaze toward Eleanor and Gina. "Now, enough with the long faces. I haven't crossed the finish line just yet!"

Yet, her profound acceptance only made the moment infinitely more heartbreaking.

"Magdalen, the doctor said you just need to rest and recover. You'll be discharged soon," Eleanor stepped forward, her voice incredibly soft.

"Alright, I'll listen to you." Magdalen nodded slowly. Her eyes shifted back and forth between Ian and Eleanor. "I'm an old woman now. My only remaining worry in this world... is you two."

Ian looked up at Eleanor, and she met his gaze. For a fleeting second, an unspoken understanding passed between them.

Ian whispered, "Grandma, please don't worry about us. Focus on getting better."

Magdalen turned back to Eleanor, weakly patting her hand. "Ellie, you need someone by your side. Evelyn is still so young. Even if... even if you and Ian don't find your way back to each other, the Goodwins will always be your family. They will always be your rock."

Listening to the heartfelt plea, Eleanor felt a massive lump form in her throat, nearly choking her. She nodded gently. "I know, Magdalen. I'll listen to you."

Ian lifted his gaze to her again, a brilliant, turbulent light flickering in his eyes.

"Good. Good. Then my heart is at peace." Magdalen's smile was steeped in exhaustion, but radiated absolute relief.

Startled, Eleanor relented and sat beside him. Ian didn't say another word. He simply rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. It was as if, after a night of excruciating tension, he had finally found the one anchor he could rely on.

Eleanor's shoulder stiffened initially. She turned her head slightly to look at the man's sleeping face just inches away. His brow was furrowed in deep exhaustion, his hair slightly disheveled, and a faint shadow of stubble dusted his jawline. In this rare moment, he looked completely unguarded and vulnerable.

She relaxed against the sofa, letting him lean his weight on her.

The VIP lounge was dead quiet.

Remembering the doctor's prognosis, Eleanor's heart sank even further. The doctor had heavily implied that Magdalen had a month left, at most.

Perhaps even less.

She let out a soft sigh, her eyes tracing Ian's profile again. He was bone-tired, trapped in a heavy slumber. Over the past ten years, his life couldn't have been easy. The weight on his shoulders had been astronomical.