Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 7

Lawrence assumed Wren would be back within half an hour at most.

That was how she had always operated.

No matter how slighted she felt, no matter how hard she cried, all it took was one call of "Mom" from Leo, and she would snap right back to her designated place.

It was Leo's birthday. She wouldn't actually leave.

So when she turned and walked away, Lawrence simply frowned, making no move to go after her.

Standing beside him, Willow's eyes were still red as she murmured, "Lawrence, is Wren mad at me? Maybe I should go explain things to her."

Lawrence tore his gaze away, his tone indifferent. "No need."

Willow looked up at him. "But she seemed genuinely upset."

"Her temper has just been getting worse lately."

As Lawrence said the words, he paused internally.

Wren was never like this before.

She rarely caused public scenes, and she certainly never just walked away. More often than not, she would stand quietly, waiting for him to speak to her.

But just now, she hadn't waited.

She hadn't even bothered to defend herself.

The shift made Lawrence feel inexplicably uneasy.

It was like a piece of furniture he had always taken for granted had suddenly been moved out of place.

Back inside the banquet hall, Leo was tearing into his presents.

He hugged the rocket base Willow had given him, his eyes practically shining with delight.

"Dad, look! This one actually launches!"

Lawrence walked over and glanced down.

"Mhm."

Leo peered behind him. "Where's Mom?"

Willow immediately stepped in with a gentle tone. "Mom is probably just exhausted. She went to rest."

Leo scrunched up his nose. "Is she mad again?"

Lawrence didn't answer.

Willow crouched down, straightening his collar. "Mom just cares about you very much, so sometimes she gets a bit strict. Don't be upset with her, okay, Leo?"

Leo clutched the rocket base tighter, muttering, "But you never act like that."

At that, Lawrence's brow twitched again.

Instinctively, he felt there was something wrong with that sentiment.

But Willow quickly patted Leo's head, whispering softly, "You can't say things like that, it'll break Mom's heart."

Leo just said, "Oh."

And that was it.

The party rolled on until ten o'clock.

Wren never returned.

Lawrence checked his phone multiple times.

No calls.

No texts.

His expression finally darkened.

Harrison Xander wandered over, a glass of wine in hand, following Lawrence's gaze. "What are you looking for? Is Wren still not back?"

Lawrence tossed his phone facedown onto the table. "She left early."

Harrison raised an eyebrow. "Given the circus tonight, the fact she lasted this long before bailing means she's practically a saint."

Lawrence shot him a glare. "What does that mean?"

Harrison's smile faded slightly.

He and Lawrence had been friends for years, and he wasn't exactly known for filtering himself.

"Don't you think Willow's positioning tonight was a bit over the top?"

Wren placed the gift box on the coffee table.

She opened it and inspected the planet model.

The switch on the base had been jammed sideways.

Finding a small screwdriver, she sat on the edge of the couch and methodically began to fix it.

As her fingertips brushed against the micro-LEDs, her mind drifted back to when Leo was just a toddler.

Back when he couldn't even form full sentences, just throwing his little arms around her neck and babbling "Mom" in his sweet, milky voice.

He used to be terrified of the dark, insisting she leave a nightlight on every single night.

One time, he had pointed at the stars out the window and asked, "Mom, are those lights?"

She had told him, "They're lights from very, very far away."

Leo had buried his face in her chest and promised seriously, "Then can you give me one of those lights, Mom? That way, I won't cry when I'm scared of the dark."

And so, for every birthday after that, Wren gave him a small star-themed gift.

The first year, it was a moon lamp.

The second year, a star projector.

The third year, a hand-stitched astronaut doll.

She had thought of this as a special little secret between her and her son.

It turned out that as kids grew up, forgetting those things was far easier than she ever imagined.

Wren finished repairing the switch and flicked it on.

The deep blue planet lit up.

The light was soft, resembling a quiet, swirling nebula.

She stared at it for a long time before finally clicking it off.

Since he didn't need it anymore, it was best to just pack it away.

At 1 AM, Mr. Clarke emailed over a list of required documents.