Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 337

Leo looked up at Lawrence.

Lawrence looked down at him, his fingers curling into a tight fist at his side.

"Let's go."

He expected the boy to launch himself forward like he used to, or at least call him Dad.

Instead, Leo simply shoved his small hands into his uniform pockets and walked beside him, maintaining a rigid half-step of distance.

The family reading room was on the first floor of the academic building, right by the windows. It was furnished with low bookshelves and tiny tables. Students' artwork covered the walls, and the air smelled faintly of paper and crayons.

Lawrence took a pristine gift box from his assistant.

"For you."

Leo stared at the robot illustration on the box, his eyes shifting, but he didn't reach for it.

"Mom said we can talk, read, or draw during visitation, but gifts are for later."

Lawrence frowned again.

"It's just a toy."

Leo picked nervously at the edge of his pocket, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll open it later."

Lawrence stared at his son for a few seconds before setting the box aside.

"Alright."

As the word left his mouth, he realized how long it had been since he had compromised with his own child.

He rarely ever asked what Leo liked, what he disliked, or what he wanted. There were people at the estate paid to handle all of that. Wren was the one who memorized his clothing sizes, his allergies, which days he had gym class, and when he needed to bring craft supplies to school.

Lawrence's only job was to sign a card during the holidays and occasionally hoist the boy up for a photo to prove to everyone that the Langford family was still perfectly intact.

Leo pulled a picture book off the shelf and sat down at one of the tiny tables.

Lawrence sat across from him.

The chair was comically low, making a man of his stature look utterly awkward as his knees practically hit the table's edge. Leo glanced at him, then pushed the book toward the center of the table.

"Teacher said we can read together."

Lawrence opened the book.

He quickly realized he had absolutely no idea how to read a picture book with a six-year-old.

He got through two pages, his tone flat and rigid like he was reciting a corporate contract. Leo kept his head down and didn't interrupt until Lawrence accidentally read "The little bear didn't want to go to school" as "The little bear had to go to school."

"Dad, it says he didn't want to."

Lawrence looked down at the text.

It did say "didn't want to."

He paused, then started the sentence over.

"The little bear didn't want to go to school."

Leo gave a small nod, looking almost relieved.

Lawrence watched the subtle reaction, a strange ache tightening his chest.

"Are you doing well at your mom's new place?"

Leo stared down at the little bear in the book, speaking slowly. "Dinner isn't on The Confirmation Sheet today."

Lawrence locked eyes with him.

"It's just dinner."

"Mom says schedule changes need to be discussed in advance."

"I can text her right now."

Leo shook his head, the motion gentle but fiercely determined.

"Dad, today is only until 5:20."

The familiar wave of dark irritation surged in Lawrence's chest.

He wanted to snap: I am your father, why do I need someone's permission to buy you dinner?

But the boy sat across from him, his face pale, his tiny fingers white-knuckling the edge of the picture book.

Lawrence remembered Ms. Miller's warning.

The boy was highly sensitive to sudden changes.

He swallowed the bitter words down.

"Alright," he heard himself say. "Today is until 5:20."

Leo looked up at him, cautiously checking to see if he was angry.

Lawrence pushed the book closer to him.