No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 70

"It's work," Ian said, getting up from the table.

Work? He had to avoid her even when it was just about work? The only calls he ever dropped everything for were from Vanessa. Only her calls could make him so anxious, so desperate.

Suddenly, Eleanor felt utterly ridiculous. Was she really going to humble herself this much, just to get evidence from his phone?

A thought struck her: why bother making peace? Maybe a big, messy argument would be better.

She grabbed her purse and looked at him coldly. "I've lost my appetite."

Without waiting for a reply, Eleanor strode out and didn't look back.

Downstairs, she flagged a cab. As she sank into the back seat, her phone rang—Ian's name on the screen.

She ignored the call. She didn't go home, either. Instead, she headed straight to Joy's place and crashed there for the night.

"What? Vanessa ruined your talk about divorce again?" Joy exclaimed when she heard the story.

"I only pretended to want to make up so I could get his phone. Who knew Vanessa would come down with a fever—probably picked up that nasty virus that's been going around."

"Ian must be worried sick."

"He spent ages soothing her over the phone, more patient than he ever is with my own daughter," Eleanor said. It wasn't even an exaggeration—at the very least, he used the same gentle tone.

"What an absolute jerk. Useless bastard," Joy huffed, indignant on her behalf.

Eleanor sipped her tea. Joy shook her head and added, "You worked your ass off to develop that miracle drug, and now you're expected to save the woman who wrecked your marriage? It's infuriating."

The next morning, Eleanor texted her daughter's teacher, Evelyn, to ask if her child had made it to school. The reply came quickly: She's already been dropped off.

Relieved, Eleanor headed to the lab for the morning meeting. Joel shared some good news—her new medication had performed exceptionally well in clinical trials and was now included in a global drug development project. Eleanor's contribution was only growing more significant.

Vanessa's name was on the screen.

She stopped in her tracks.

Joel noticed her hesitation and followed her gaze. His brow furrowed. "She's here too?"

Just then, Ian stepped out of the room. Instinctively, Eleanor leaned closer to Joel, who slipped his arm around her shoulders.

"Could you fetch Dr. Rhys? The patient's fever is back up to 103.3," Ian said, his deep voice carrying.

"Of course, Mr. Goodwin. We'll call the chief physician right away," the nurse replied, hurrying off.

Ian turned—and even through the mask, he recognized Joel. "Dr. Kingsley."