Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 223

The next morning, Leo woke up very early.

He didn't cry or fuss. He just put on his school uniform by himself and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Wren to come in.

His shoelaces were tied unevenly, a clear sign that he had already learned how to bury his disappointment. When Wren pushed the door open, he was looking down, picking at the buttons of his uniform. Hearing her footsteps, he immediately looked up.

"Mom, can I just not wait for Dad to pick me up today?"

Wren stood in the doorway, a sharp ache twisting in her chest.

She walked over and knelt in front of him. "You can."

Leo let out a breath of relief.

It was such a small sigh, as if he was afraid of being heard.

Wren untied his shoes and started re-lacing them properly. "If he shows up, you're allowed to be happy. If he doesn't, you shouldn't feel so sad that you're afraid to talk about it. Picking you up is an adult's responsibility. It has nothing to do with whether you're good or not."

Leo nodded.

After a moment, he asked, "So, was I being stupid standing by the gate yesterday?"

Wren's hands froze.

He asked with absolute sincerity.

Like an adult who had failed at something, checking to see if he had simply expected too much.

Wren looked up at him. "No."

Leo blinked.

"Waiting for someone who made a promise isn't stupid," she said, tying the final knot. "The person who left you waiting is the one who needs to figure out what they did wrong."

There was a faint sound out in the hall.

Wren glanced back.

Lawrence was standing in the corridor, holding his jacket. He had clearly heard her last sentence. His expression was grim, but he didn't instantly argue back the way he normally would have.

Seeing him, Leo's entire body tensed up.

"Dad."

Lawrence walked in and bent down, reaching out to pat his head.

This time, Leo didn't shy away, but his little hand instinctively grabbed the cuff of Wren's sleeve.

Lawrence's hand hovered in midair.

A split second later, he pulled it back.

"I'll pick you up this afternoon," he said.

Leo didn't smile right away.

He looked at Wren.

Wren didn't answer for him.

The boy slowly lowered his head and whispered, "If you're really busy, Mom can get me."

Lawrence's gaze darkened.

Those words stung worse than a reproach.

A scolding would at least mean the boy believed he could change.

But Leo was already building in an excuse for his father's inevitable failure.

At the breakfast table, Eleanor Langford was visibly unhappy with the heavy atmosphere.

She had heard about Lawrence missing the pickup yesterday, and it had infuriated her. But she didn't dare unleash her temper on her son, so she directed her ire at Wren instead.

"He's young. It's completely normal for adults to be busy," Eleanor said, dropping her spoon. "Stop making such a big deal out of everything. Lawrence runs a massive corporation. You expect him to orbit around a grade school every day?"

Leo stared down at his toast.

He was tearing the crust into tiny pieces, letting them pile up on his plate.

Wren noticed.

Without even glancing at Eleanor, she swapped the boy's plate for a fresh one and took the mangled crusts away.

"Just eat the soft part in the middle."

Leo murmured, "Thanks, Mom."

Eleanor's face soured further.

"I'm living here to comply with the court's observation period."

"That observation period is evaluating you as a wife and a mother. Having guests over and the lady of the house hiding away? What kind of impression does that make?"

Wren's fingers paused slightly.

Mrs. Langford.

Whenever Eleanor used that title, it always felt like a handout. When she needed Wren to play the perfect hostess, she was Mrs. Langford. When she looked down on her background, she went right back to being the unpresentable Whitaker daughter.

Wren met her gaze. "You can tell them I'm tied up with work."

Eleanor let out an exasperated scoff. "Is your job more important than the reputation of the Langford Estate?"

Leo looked up.

There was panic in his eyes.

He couldn't understand every word, but he knew the adults were yelling at his mother.

Wren didn't take the bait.

She handed Leo his backpack. "Go wait for me by the door."

This time, Leo didn't leave immediately.

He whispered, "Mom, please don't fight today."

That single sentence drained all the air from the dining room.

Eleanor struggled to maintain her composure.

Lawrence looked up as well.

A sharp, invisible needle pricked Wren's heart.

She gently smoothed Leo's hair. "Okay. No fighting."

Only then did the boy trudge toward the door.

His backpack was small, but he carried it as if it were weighed down by boulders the adults couldn't see.

Once he was out of earshot, Wren turned her attention back to Eleanor.