Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 240

His lips merely grazed the edge of her hair, landing on nothing but empty air.

The very next second, she shoved him hard in the chest.

The push didn't carry tremendous physical strength, but the absolute revulsion behind it was staggering.

"Don't touch me."

Her voice wasn't loud.

It wasn't even loud enough to alert the staff sleeping at the other end of the hall.

But Lawrence stood there, frozen in place.

Wren glared up at him. There was zero shyness in her eyes, zero panic. There was only a visceral, suffocating level of disgust and hyper-vigilance.

"If you try this one more time, I am ending the observation period immediately."

Lawrence's face turned deathly pale.

"Are you threatening me with our child?"

"I am protecting myself." Wren stared him down. "And I am protecting my son."

She shoved the guest suite door open and walked inside.

This time, Lawrence didn't try to block her.

The door clicked shut right in his face.

She didn't slam it.

It closed with barely a whisper.

But that soft click felt as though it had permanently locked him out of her universe.

Lawrence stood rooted in the hallway for a very long time.

He slowly raised a hand and brushed his thumb against his own jawline.

There was nothing there.

She had dodged him completely.

That undeniable reality triggered a sickening surge of powerlessness in his gut.

It was mostly humiliation, followed by a bitter resentment, and then the icy fury of being utterly rejected.

He couldn't fathom how Wren had mutated into this person.

In the past, her eyes had always sparkled the moment they landed on him.

When he worked late, she would worry.

When his stomach acted up, she would hover over him.

Even if he did something as trivial as handing her a jacket, she would cherish the memory for months.

How could a woman who used to be like that suddenly react as if she had been touched by something contaminated the second he got close?

At the far end of the hallway, the door to Eleanor's bedroom cracked open silently.

She had likely heard a bit of the commotion but refused to step out.

Lawrence turned his head to look, and the door soundlessly clicked shut again.

He suddenly felt that this entire mansion was an absurd joke.

Everyone was eavesdropping.

Everyone was constantly guessing.

But the things that actually needed to be said aloud were being buried by everyone.

Inside the guest suite, Wren leaned back against the heavy wooden door, her fingers trembling uncontrollably.

On the nightstand, the bottle of hand cream Wren used to apply still sat exactly where she had left it.

He picked it up, then set it back down.

As if finally conceding that no matter how perfectly he arranged these lifeless objects, it was entirely pointless.

She wasn't here.

And her heart was a million miles away.

At 11:30 PM, Willow sent him a text.

"Are you asleep yet? The closed-door prep session went flawlessly today. Jude said I did an amazing job."

Lawrence stared at the illuminated screen, refusing to reply.

A few moments later, a second message chimed in.

"Are you still spending time with Wren and Leo? I won't bother you anymore then. I just wanted to promise you that I'll listen to you—I won't interfere with the school event."

Lawrence squeezed his eyes shut.

If this were the past, her performance of extreme understanding might have genuinely soothed him.

But tonight, his brain was entirely consumed by the look in Wren's eyes when she jerked her face away.

She had said, 'Don't touch me.'

It felt like a cold, irreversible death sentence.

Lawrence threw his phone blindly onto the mattress.

The screen glowed brightly in the dark for a few seconds before fading to black.

The room descended back into a suffocating silence.