Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 160

But that trick wasn't working anymore.

The distance from the door to the desk was only a few short steps.

Yet Leo had managed to make those steps feel like an impenetrable fortress.

Willow lowered her head, offering a soft smile. "Alright, then I won't bother you. I'll leave the cake right here by the door. You can eat it whenever you like."

She placed the box on the floor and turned to walk back downstairs.

When Eleanor spotted her descending empty-handed at the landing, her face instantly soured.

"He didn't let you in again?"

Willow kept her voice light. "He's just in a bad mood today."

"Bad mood, my foot," Eleanor snapped, her temper flaring. "Wren is making him act weirder by the day."

Willow didn't engage with the comment.

She simply sat gracefully on the sofa and helped Eleanor flip the dress catalog to the next page.

The page featured an elegant, silver-gray gown.

Eleanor studied it for a moment before suddenly asking, "Are you sure you want to wear this one to the gala?"

"Is it too plain?"

"Plain is better," Eleanor declared, locking eyes with her. "Don't bother competing with Wren on flashiness. The harder she tries to flaunt her status as the current Mrs. Langford, the less you should rush things."

Willow's fingers stalled on the page.

"She is still technically his wife."

Eleanor let out a cold laugh. "She won't be for much longer."

Willow ducked her head, maintaining her silence.

She knew Eleanor was just feeding her comforting lies.

But eventually, even the sweetest lies lost their flavor.

Upstairs, Leo waited until 7:40 PM.

His phone screen finally lit up.

Lawrence had sent another text.

[Running late.]

Leo stared unblinking at those two words for a long time.

He desperately wanted to ask how late "late" meant.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard, but he eventually closed the app without typing a single letter.

He set the phone down and continued to sit in total silence.

At 8:17, he accidentally knocked the bottle of glue over.

A puddle of white sludge spilled onto the wood. In a panic, Leo frantically tried to wipe it up, accidentally smearing a glob onto his sleeve. He stared down at the sticky white stain, a heavy lump abruptly forming in his throat.

Wren used to make him wear a battered old apron whenever they crafted.

It was hideously ugly, featuring a faded blue bear on the front.

He used to complain about how uncool it looked.

Now, thinking about it made him want it back more than anything.

At 8:30, Eleanor sent a maid upstairs to coax him down for some fruit.

Leo refused.

In the past, he would have desperately scrambled to smooth things over so she wouldn't feel awkward.

Recovering somewhat, Willow placed the soup on the edge of the desk. "Then I suppose you'll just have to wait for your dad."

Leo gave a stiff nod. "Yes."

The door closed in her face once more.

Standing in the hallway, Willow fought an overwhelming urge to grab that pathetic, broken model and smash it into a million pieces.

At 9:45 PM, Leo dialed Wren's number.

Wren picked up almost immediately.

"Leo."

Hearing her voice, the tears Leo had been violently choking back all night nearly spilled over.

He buried his face in his arms on the desk, whispering, "Are you busy right now?"

"Just a little," Wren replied gently, the faint rustling of paper filtering through the speaker. "But I have time to listen to you."

Leo scrubbed furiously at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Dad said he was going to be late."

Wren went completely silent for a few seconds.

"What time were you supposed to start?"

"Seven o'clock."

"And what time is it now?"

"Nine forty-five."