No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 848

Eleanor told Joslyn she needed to rest, and Evelyn, ever the considerate child, went downstairs to play. Exhaustion finally overtook her. She fell onto the bed and slept soundly until two in the afternoon.

When she woke, she felt much better. Downstairs, she watched her daughter chasing Princess around the living room, the afternoon sun streaming in, warm and bright. Evelyn ran and leaped into her arms, and as Eleanor looked down at her daughter's flushed little face, her conviction grew stronger.

Whether the probability was thirty percent or one percent, she would fight to make it zero.

Her phone rang. It was Joel. "Hey, Joel?"

"I stopped by the office to see you, but they said you took the day off. Is everything okay?" he asked with concern.

Though her heart was heavy, she didn't want to worry him. "I'm fine," she said, forcing a light tone.

"There are a few parameters on the civilian project that I'm not sure about. I was hoping to discuss them with you."

"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight? We can talk about work then," Eleanor offered.

"Sounds good," Joel replied easily. "I'll head over after work."

After the call, Eleanor returned to her study. She opened her computer, but this time, she ignored the daunting data and began reviewing all of the Smith Lab's treatment and intervention protocols for rare blood diseases. She needed to master the core information as quickly as possible so she could communicate effectively with Smith when he arrived.

At six o'clock, Joel arrived right on time. They sat on the balcony to discuss the project, and both became deeply engrossed in their work.

Eleanor had left her phone upstairs. Evelyn, playing with Princess in the master bedroom, saw it light up and picked it up. "It's Daddy!" she whispered excitedly to the dog before swiping to answer. "Hello, Daddy, it's me!"

"Evelyn! Why do you have the phone? Where's your mom?" Ian's gentle voice came through the speaker.

"Mommy's talking with Mr. Kingsley," she replied.

"Joel is at your house?" Ian's voice was steady.

A wave of annoyance washed over her. "Who I have over for dinner is none of your business," she said coldly. "If you have something to say, say it."

"I had Evelyn's genes tested a while back. I'll send you the data shortly. Dr. Smith believes the risk of her inheriting the condition is low, but he can't be certain," Ian said, his voice low.

Eleanor's grip on the phone tightened. "When did you have her tested?"

"Four years ago," he admitted.

"Ian, why wouldn't you tell me something like that?" A fresh surge of anger rose in her chest, her voice trembling with rage.