No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 586

He was sharp enough to catch the slight hitch in her breath.

Eleanor gave a helpless laugh and explained, “It’s my friend’s wedding today. The chapel was so loud just now, I had to step outside to take your call.”

“Have you been well lately?”

“I’m fine. What about you?”

“I’m—ah—” On the other end, Mansfield’s voice broke off with a barely-suppressed groan of pain.

“What happened?” Eleanor’s concern was immediate; after all, he was stationed in one of the most dangerous parts of the world.

“It’s nothing, really—just a minor injury. I’m recuperating,” Mansfield replied, giving a low chuckle.

“Where are you hurt? Is it serious?” Eleanor frowned, worry etched in her tone.

“Took a bullet to the chest, but I’ll live.”

Eleanor’s breath caught. “You call that nothing? Did they get the bullet out? How close was it?”

“I’m fine, honestly. Just need to stay in bed for a while.” A sharp intake of breath colored his words.

She didn’t believe for a second that he was really all right. “Mansfield, how bad is it—truly?” she pressed, her voice taking on an unexpected note of authority.

He gave a soft laugh. “You sound just like a doctor. All right—missed my heart by less than an inch.”

Eleanor’s fingers clenched tightly around her phone, her knuckles turning white. She knew exactly what that meant—he’d brushed shoulders with death itself.

“Which hospital are you in?” Her voice tightened.

“They just transferred me back to the main military hospital,” Mansfield answered after a pause. “Honestly, I’ll be fine. I just need some peace and quiet.”

“I’ll be in Kingston on Monday. I’ll come see you,” Eleanor said.

“No need to go out of your way. You still have Evelyn to look after.”

“I’m there to accept an award anyway. Dropping by to see you is hardly a detour, is it?” Eleanor replied.

Eleanor, worried her daughter hadn’t eaten enough, encouraged her, “Go on, have a little more with Aunt Joslyn. I’ll join you soon.”

Evelyn let Joslyn lead her back into the reception hall.

In the soft glow of the corridor lights, Ian’s gaze was dark and unreadable as he approached. “Mansfield’s been hurt?”

Eleanor didn’t want to discuss it with him.

“Is it serious?” Ian’s voice was calm but tight.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he studied her still-reddened eyes. “You’re going to visit him?” He paused. “I can look after Evelyn if you need.”

“No need,” Eleanor replied, and turned back into the hall.

After the wedding dinner, Eleanor took her daughter upstairs to rest. Ian didn’t come by again, but Joy showed up, seeking a break.

Despite it being her own wedding day, Joy complained that it was even more exhausting than a day at work. Eleanor had to agree—keeping your nerves taut for a wedding was no small feat.