No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1436

Eleanor's brow furrowed slightly. The unspoken invitation behind Ian's words was crystal clear to both of them.

Eleanor met his gaze calmly and just as calmly refused. "No, thank you."

It was a crisp rejection.

The look of anticipation on Ian's face faltered. The elevator light clearly illuminated the awkwardness on his handsome features. He lowered his gaze for a couple of seconds before looking up with a slight smile. "Sorry, that was too forward of me."

With that, he said warmly, "Well, get some rest. Good night."

"Good night," Eleanor replied.

Ian stepped out of the elevator, turning to look back at Eleanor as the doors slowly closed.

Their gazes unexpectedly locked again.

His gaze was as deep as the ocean, churning with an emotional current she had no desire to explore.

Eleanor held his gaze for two seconds before turning her head away.

Ian watched the elevator ascend to the twenty-eighth floor, a faint smirk playing on his lips. It seemed some things couldn't be rushed.

-

That evening, Eleanor dropped her bag and the gift before heading off to shower. When she came downstairs, Joslyn was tidying up and asked her, "Is this your gift, ma'am?"

Eleanor finally remembered the gift from Ian. She walked over, picked it up, and opened it. It was clearly jewelry. Sure enough, it was a sapphire bracelet.

Eleanor loved blue things. It seemed he still remembered.

Eleanor took it upstairs and placed it in her glass display case with her other jewelry. She rarely had a use for such things, only wearing them for important occasions.

Just as Eleanor was about to get into bed, her phone chimed with a message. She saw it was from Ian.

[Do you like the gift?]

[I do, thank you,] Eleanor replied casually.

[Good, I'm glad you like it,] Ian wrote back.

[Going to sleep now. You get some rest too,] Eleanor replied, reaching for the book on her nightstand, intending to read a few pages.

Steady footsteps echoed in the hallway. Eleanor looked over and saw he had already showered. He was wearing a set of dark gray loungewear, stray locks of hair falling messily over his forehead.

He lacked his usual sharp, decisive intensity, replaced by a sense of domestic ease and—exhaustion.

"Here," Eleanor said, handing it to him.

Ian took it, a hint of restrained warmth in his eyes. "Thanks."

"One tablet at a time, but it's best not to rely on them long-term," Eleanor advised.

Ian took them and replied with a smile, "Okay, I'll listen to you."

Eleanor was still in her nightgown and subconsciously crossed her arms over her chest. "You should get some sleep," she said before closing the door.

Ian stood there, holding the blister pack of pills, then turned and left.

After going downstairs, Ian did indeed take one pill. He hadn't slept well for days and needed to recover his strength.

But after taking it and lying down, he found the effect wasn't very strong. Or rather, his body was exhausted, but his mind was unusually clear.