No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 987

Simone Langley was talking with a few young students. Hearing her name, she turned in surprise, her face breaking into a wide, delighted grin. "Eleanor! What are you doing back here?"

Simone said a few more words to her students and then walked over. Eleanor studied her, noting that her color looked good; the post-surgery recovery seemed to be going well.

"Professor Langley, you two chat. I'll head back to the lab," Joel said politely.

Once Joel was gone, Simone's gaze softened as she studied Eleanor, asking quietly, "How have you been, Eleanor? Is your daughter doing well?"

Eleanor thought of her recent collapse and hospitalization but chose to focus on the positive. "I'm doing very well. And you? How is your recovery coming along?"

"All my vitals are stable. My research team has been disbanded, so now I just come to campus to teach a few classes a week," Simone said.

"You definitely shouldn't be leading a team right now. Your health has to come first," Eleanor advised.

"Do you remember that leukemia patient, Marilyn? I did a follow-up visit with her recently. She's made a full recovery."

Eleanor had been swamped lately, but she remembered Marilyn. She nodded. "I remember her. Professor Langley, are you still doing patient follow-ups?"

"I only visited her," Simone said, her look meaningful. "She was a special case."

Eleanor recalled Marilyn's mutated leukemia was indeed rare. It made sense that Simone would want to follow up for a research paper.

"Eleanor, how are things between you and Ian?" Simone asked suddenly.

Eleanor paused, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible. "We have some interaction for work, but otherwise, we don't see each other."

She knew Simone had been hoping they would reconcile, and she wanted to put that idea to rest.

Simone looked at her and sighed gently, her eyes filled with concern. "You may be divorced, but you still have a child together. The truth is, Ian—"

She decided to leave shortly before five. After her breakthrough, the experiments no longer required such long hours. Ian's blood had proven to have a strong immune-stimulating effect on Gina Quinn's cells. Once the trial on Serena Goodwin was complete, they could begin treatment for Gina.

At five-twenty, Eleanor arrived at her daughter's school. To her surprise, Ian's car was already in the parking lot. The school gates hadn't opened yet; he must have been waiting for a while.

The setting sun outlined his tall figure. His silver-streaked hair was less noticeable in the warm light, but he was wearing a black face mask, as if he were sick.

He saw Eleanor and walked over. "Sorry, I should have called first."

Eleanor frowned. "If you have a cold, you should see a doctor. I can pick up Evelyn."

"Ahem," Ian let out a muffled cough. "I am feeling a little under the weather."

His thick hair fell across his forehead, his long eyebrows shadowing his eyes. His gaze, deep under thick lashes, was fixed on Eleanor. "Are you sure you don't want me to get her with you?"