Too Late To Love Me I Already Left With His Twins (Lydia and Dave) novel Chapter 21

Lydia POV

The room went very still.

I looked at him.

Actually looked.

And for one wild second, I nearly laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because the audacity of that sentence deserved applause.

“You mean like the time I did?” I asked softly.

He frowned.

I held his gaze.

“The day I was lying on the bathroom floor with a fever and your… whatever she is… answered your phone to tell me you were busy?”

His expression shifted.

Only slightly.

If I hadn’t been looking directly at him, I might have missed it.

He didn’t say anything.

And honestly?

That was answer enough.

I looked back at the TV.

“I figured I should stop disturbing you after that.”

He was quiet for so long that I thought maybe he’d left.

Then he said, “Cyn didn’t mean it like that.”

There it was.

Not:

I’m sorry.

Not:

Are you okay?

Not:

That shouldn’t have happened.

Just logistics.

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I almost admired the consistency.

‘s fine,” I said.

And that was the truth.

Not because it didn’t hurt.

Because it had already done its damage.

He stayed there another moment, like he wanted to say something else and couldn’t find a version of it that sat comfortably in his mouth.

Then Bernard appeared from the hallway.

“Good evening, sir.”

Dave stepped back slightly. “Bernard.”

“Would you like dinner served now?”

Dave didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes were still on me.

I hated that I could feel it.

Finally, he said, “Later.”

Bernard nodded and disappeared again.

I adjusted the blanket over my legs and stared harder at the television like I was deeply invested in backsplash tile

choices.

Dave still didn’t move.

I could feel the question sitting in the room.

He just didn’t know how to ask it.

And I was too tired to help him.

“I have work upstairs,” he said.

Of course he did.

Naturally.

The nation would collapse if Mr. Billionaire spent five extra minutes in his own living room.

I nodded once. “Okay.”

He lingered for half a second longer.

Then he turned and walked away.

I listened to his footsteps fade up the staircase.

And weirdly enough, I didn’t feel anything dramatic after he left.

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Just… stillness.

Me kind that settles after a storm has finally decided it’s done wrecking your roof.

I stayed on the sofa until the home renovation show ended and another one started.

Then I closed my laptop, folded the blanket neatly, and headed upstairs.

As I passed the landing, I saw a strip of light under Dave’s study door.

I didn’t stop.

Inside my room, I watered my plant, changed into pajamas, and climbed into bed. 1

The other man sighed.

“We either close this merger now or lose them to Wexler Group.”

Ah.

A merger.

My favorite genre.

Rich people panic.

I poured coffee into my mug just as the older man gathered a few files and stepped toward the terrace to answer a

call.

That left Dave alone.

He was standing at the table with his sleeves rolled once, tie loosened slightly, one hand braced against the polished wood while the other flipped through a report.

He looked irritated.)

Which, to be fair, was his resting emotional climate.

Still, there was something tighter about him today.

More focused.

He scanned a page, then another, jaw hardening like the paper had personally offended him.

I should have kept moving.

I know that.

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Mind your business, Lydia.

Drink your coffee.

Go back to your coursework and your emotional solitude.

Instead, my mouth betrayed me.

“It’s not the numbers, is it?”

He looked up.

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