Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 210

She was always juggling a million things at once.

Back then, he had felt completely entitled to her labor.

Now, she only cared for herself and their son, and the entire house felt like a machine missing a crucial gear, grinding aggressively against itself.

Hearing the noise, Wren turned around.

"Do you need something?"

Lawrence glanced at the sleeping boy.

"How was he today?"

The question sounded remarkably stiff.

He looked like a man who never cooked suddenly grabbing a chef's knife, entirely clueless on what to chop.

Wren pushed her laptop screen halfway down.

"Anxious when we arrived. A little better after dinner. He struggled to focus during his homework, but he didn't cry."

Lawrence frowned. "Are you going to talk to me like you're dictating a clinical log now?"

Wren stared at him for a beat.

"Weren't you the one asking about our son?"

Lawrence was instantly silenced.

He stepped into the room and bent down, intent on carrying Leo back to the nursery.

The boy was only lightly dozing. The second Lawrence's hand brushed his shoulder, his eyes snapped open in sheer panic.

"Mom?"

His voice was laced with pure terror.

Lawrence's hand froze dead in the air.

Wren immediately rushed over and grabbed Leo's hand. "I'm right here."

Only when Leo saw her did his rigid body finally slump in relief.

He then noticed Lawrence, and realizing he had overreacted, he whispered, "Dad."

Lawrence's face turned completely ugly for a split second.

He wasn't angry at the child.

He was humiliated by the visceral, instinctual fear his own son harbored toward him.

He pulled his hand back. "I was just going to carry you to your room."

Leo clung desperately to Wren's hand, refusing to let go.

"I want to sleep here for a little while."

A heavy silence suffocated the room for several seconds.

Lawrence looked at Wren.

Wren made zero effort to override her son. "Then you can sleep right here. We'll go back when you wake up."

Lawrence's jaw tightened dangerously.

He loathed this feeling.

This was The Langford Estate, and he was the father, yet the child completely bypassed him, anchoring his entire sense of security solely onto Wren.

Had it always been this way?

"He promised."

"What if he has work?"

Wren looked down at her son.

She desperately wanted to say that his father's schedule was his father's own damn problem to figure out.

But the child was already drowning in exhaustion, and she refused to burden him with yet another adult logic he was forced to process.

So she simply replied, "Then that's something Dad will have to fix. It is not something you need to worry about."

Leo slowly fluttered his eyes shut.

A long time passed before he mumbled sleepily, "Mom, it doesn't feel as big here anymore."

Wren's heart gave a violent, painful twist.

She gently stroked his hair.

"Yeah?"

The boy’s voice was slurred with sleep. "It used to feel so big... now it's just kind of empty."

Wren didn't say a word.

Outside the window, the courtyard lights gleamed softly, casting a quiet glow over the white roses in the dead of night.

The estate really was massive.

Massive enough to hold endless galas, suffocating rules, and boundless vanity.

Yet it somehow wasn't big enough to hold a single night where a terrified little boy didn't have to read the adults' faces just to feel safe.