No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 622

Eleanor came downstairs and saw her daughter fast asleep on the couch. Her expression was distant as she approached. “I’ll carry her upstairs. You can go now.”

But Ian didn’t hand Evelyn over. His tone was quiet but firm. “Let me take her up.”

Eleanor pressed her lips together, but didn’t argue.

Ian gently lifted the sleeping Evelyn and carried her upstairs. Once in the bedroom, he tucked her in with careful hands. Eleanor stood in the doorway, waiting for him to finish and leave.

As Ian closed the door behind him, he turned to face her. “We need to talk.”

Eleanor’s voice stayed cold. “You can go.”

“It’s about Evelyn being hospitalized two years ago.” Ian’s voice dropped, heavy with meaning. “I have a right to know.”

Eleanor’s breath caught. She looked up at him, startled—how did he find out?

Last night, something Joslyn had said made Ian suspicious. His instincts kicked in, so he asked Gavin Young to pull Evelyn’s medical records from the past three years. That’s when he discovered that, two winters ago, Evelyn had undergone a pulmonary lavage.

Eleanor hadn’t expected him to dig that up. She instinctively stepped back until her shoulders pressed against the hallway wall.

“Why did you keep it from me?” Ian’s voice was low and tightly controlled, as if he was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“It was a routine procedure,” Eleanor replied, meeting his eyes with a calm that bordered on indifference.

Ian’s hands clenched and relaxed at his sides. “Eleanor, if anything like this happens again, I need to know—immediately.”

Last night, when he’d read Evelyn’s medical report, his mind had gone blank for what felt like ages. He had never imagined his daughter had once hovered so close to death, that her pneumonia had gotten so severe.

Ian’s pain and guilt were written all over his face, but Eleanor’s response was icy. “It’s done. There’s no point talking about it now.”

She opened the master bedroom door and slipped inside, leaving Ian stunned in the hallway. He turned and went downstairs, where Joslyn was tidying up the living room. His voice was low and urgent. “Joslyn, did Evelyn have surgery during her hospital stay two years ago?”

Joslyn froze—she hadn’t expected Ian to ask about this. “Yes, sir. Evelyn had a lung procedure.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ian’s eyes were sharp. “You should have.”

Joslyn had still been his housekeeper then, his employee. It was her duty to inform him.

Joslyn sighed. “Mrs. Goodwin told me not to. She said you were busy overseas, and she didn’t want to disturb you… Actually, she did call you that night. You must have been busy; you never answered.”

Joslyn quickly made herself scarce. “I’ll step out for a bit—need to pick up a few things.”

With Joslyn gone, Ian’s chest rose and fell as he strode closer to Eleanor, stopping just a few feet away. His voice was thick. “Why didn’t you tell me back then?”

Eleanor let out a cold laugh. “Tell you? You ignored a dozen calls that night. To me, you might as well have been dead.”

Ian went pale, his tall frame swaying. “I was—”

He remembered—he’d been at Vanessa Shannon’s victory party. The entertainment news was full of her that day. The paparazzi had even snapped photos of them together at the airport.

He’d been celebrating with his old flame, not sparing a thought for his daughter’s life or death.

“Doesn’t matter anymore,” Eleanor said with a bitter smile. Any ordeal she survived had, over time, become nothing more than a passing cloud.

She walked toward the water dispenser, but behind her, Ian’s voice rang out—soft, sincere, and aching. “Eleanor, I’m sorry.”

“Just go. I don’t want to see you.” Eleanor’s voice was weary. Her daughter’s recent illness had already left her emotionally exhausted; Ian’s presence only unsettled her more.

“I’ll make it right. All of it,” Ian promised, his voice low and earnest.