Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 264

That was something Eleanor had hinted at in her messages. She shouldn't have said it out loud.

But she recovered flawlessly.

"Eleanor was in a bad mood today and let a few things slip." She looked up, her voice dropping to a feather-light whisper. "I wasn't trying to pry. Lawrence, it just hurts me to see you like this."

Lawrence stared her down.

Willow didn't look away.

Her gaze was overwhelmingly soft, a tender, suffocating net.

"You get the cold shoulder from her at the estate, then have to go out and pretend you're a loving couple in public. Aren't you exhausted?"

Those words finally struck the darkest, most bruised part of Lawrence's chest.

Exhausted.

Of course he was exhausted.

But it was an ugly, pathetic kind of exhaustion to admit.

Because Wren was the one who had been wronged, yet he was the one who felt tortured every time she refused to let him near.

Lawrence refused to acknowledge his own ugliness.

So he shoved the emotions down.

Willow stepped closer, wrapping her arms gently around his waist.

"You don't have to pretend with me."

That sentence was a tiny, invisible needle, expertly popping the balloon of composure he had maintained all night.

Lawrence reached up and gripped the back of her neck.

Willow tilted her head back in total submission.

The kiss was demanding, completely devoid of gentleness.

It tasted of alcohol and repressed anger, driven by a volatile lack of control that Wren had left him with.

Willow closed her eyes.

She knew he wasn't doing this out of love.

He just needed a receptacle for his bruised ego, his lust, and his bitter frustration.

But that was fine.

She hadn't come here out of love, either.

The living room lights remained off.

The darkness swallowed everything. A suit jacket slipped to the floor. A phone vibrated once from the depths of the sofa cushions, then quickly went silent.

Willow clung to Lawrence's shoulders in the shadows.

There was no romantic bliss in her heart.

A slow smile crept into her eyes.

She didn't agree immediately.

She crafted the perfectly understanding response.

"If Wren and Lawrence are both too busy, I would love to go. I just don't want to upset Wren."

Eleanor texted back instantly:

"It doesn't matter if she's upset. The child is what matters."

Willow gently clasped her phone in her palm.

Look at that.

The door was wide open.

She turned her head to look at Lawrence on the bed.

The man slept fitfully. His brow was furrowed even in slumber, as if someone was rejecting him in his dreams, too.

Willow lowered her eyes and pulled the covers up over him.

Her touch was as gentle as a lover's.

But her mind was entirely elsewhere.

Next Wednesday, at the school open day... would Wren still manage to look as cool and flawless under the public's gaze as she had tonight?