Too Late To Love Me I Already Left With His Twins (Lydia and Dave) novel Chapter 302

Lydia POV

Dave came in and cleared his throat.

I slowly lowered my hand from my face and turned toward the door. He was standing there, one hand resting against the frame, looking entirely too comfortable for a man who had just walked into a conversation he had absolutely no business hearing. I stared at him for a second before looking at my phone, where Anna was still on the video call, her expression caught somewhere between shock and amusement. Then I looked back at him. “Since when have you been standing there?” I asked. “And don’t I have my right to privacy anymore?” I knew the question was pointless the moment it left my mouth. The door had been open. Technically, I had invited the problem in.

Dave pushed himself away from the door and walked toward me with that irritating little smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Long enough,” he said. I groaned and covered my face again. “Urgh.” I could practically feel Anna trying not to laugh through the phone. Dave stopped in front of me, then leaned down until his mouth was close to my ear. “Is there anything more private than what I saw last night?” he whispered. I went completely still before slowly turning my head to look at him. “Urghh. I hate you.” His smile widened. “No, you don’t.” I gave him a long look. “Really?” “Really.” He said it with so much confidence that I almost laughed. Almost.

Instead, I folded my arms and looked away. “You’re very confident for someone who just walked into my room without knocking.” “Your door was open.” “That doesn’t mean you walk in.” “I thought you were finished talking.” “You thought wrong.” He chuckled, and I hated how easily that sound could pull a smile out of me. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering for just a second before he pulled away. “You’re blushing.” I immediately looked at him. “I am not.” “You are.” “It’s hot.” He glanced pointedly toward the air conditioner. “The AC is on.” I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t like you.” “You’ve said that already.” “I’m considering saying it again.” He smiled. “Go ahead.” I opened my mouth, then closed it because, annoyingly, I had nothing to say. His smile became unbearably smug. “Exactly.”

I shook my head and moved past him, sitting at the edge of the bed. Anna was still on my phone, looking like she had just been handed front-row tickets to a show she had paid absolutely nothing for. I ignored her and picked up my glass of water. “Anyway,” I said, deliberately changing the subject. Dave sat beside me. “Anyway.” For a moment, the teasing settled, and I looked at him properly. There was something strange about being able to look at Dave now and remember everything. His face no longer felt like a familiar stranger’s. I remembered his expressions, his habits, the way his mouth twitched when he was trying not to laugh, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. I knew him again. And perhaps that was why being around him felt so different now. There was no longer that horrible gap between what my heart seemed to know and what my mind couldn’t remember.

I turned toward him. “So… we’re together now.” He looked at me as though the statement was obvious. “Yes.” “We have children.” “Yes.” “And apparently we have a future.” His expression softened. “I’d like that.” Something warm settled in my chest, but I wasn’t about to let the moment become too sentimental. I cleared my throat. “Okay. There’s one problem.” His brows pulled together immediately. “What?” I looked him straight in the eye. “Who is going to cook?”

For a second, Dave just stared at me. Then he laughed. “That’s the problem?” “Yes.” I sat up straighter. “I’m not suddenly becoming the household chef because we’re back together.” “I never said you were.” “You didn’t have to.” He shook his head, still smiling. “I can cook.” “I know.” “So what’s the issue?” “The issue is that when you say you can cook, you mean you can make about three things.” “Four.” “What are the four?” I asked, genuinely curious. He started counting on his fingers. “Pasta, eggs, rice and grilled chicken.” I stared at him. “Rice is not a dish.” “It absolutely is.” “Not by itself.” “Fine. Add sauce.” I laughed. “You don’t make sauce.” “I can learn.” “Good, because I’m not cooking every day.” He nodded. “Fair enough.”

We ended up having a surprisingly serious conversation about it. Not just cooking, but the whole structure of our life together. If we were really going to do this, if we were going to be a family again rather than two adults occasionally orbiting the same children, then we needed to actually talk about the boring things. Who would handle breakfast on school mornings? Who would take the children to school? Who would pick them up? Who would deal with homework? What happened when one of us had a bad day at work? Who bought groceries? Who washed the dishes? Who stayed home when one of the kids was sick? It wasn’t romantic in the traditional sense, but there was something intimate about it. We were talking about a life, not a date.

Dave leaned back against the headboard while I explained that I wasn’t interested in becoming the default person responsible for everything simply because I was the mother. “We’re both parents,” I told him. “So we’re both responsible.” He nodded without arguing. “I agree.” I looked at him suspiciously. “That was easy.” “What were you expecting?” “A fight.” He smiled. “I’m trying something new.” “What’s that?” “Listening to my wife.” I gave him a look. “I’m not your wife yet.” His eyes moved over my face, and that familiar smile returned. “Yet.” I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop the smile that followed.

“What?” he asked innocently. “I’m just asking.” I slowly turned toward Dave, who was staring at our son with the expression of a man reconsidering every decision that had led to fatherhood. I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh. “Why do you want to know?” I asked Eli. He shrugged. “Because everybody in my class has brothers and sisters. Some people have two. Some have three. I only have Ava.” Ava frowned. “I’m not enough?” “No, you’re my sister,” Eli said matter-of-factly. “But I want another one.”

Dave rubbed his forehead. “Eli, you don’t get to request a sibling like you’re ordering something online.” Eli frowned. “But how do you make one?” I immediately looked at Dave. Dave looked at me. Neither of us spoke. Ava covered her face. “Oh my God.” I could feel a headache forming already. Dave finally cleared his throat and stood up. “Okay. I think this family meeting is officially over.” Eli protested, but Dave was already ushering him toward the door while Ava followed behind, still laughing.

I watched them disappear into the hallway before looking back at Dave. He caught my eye from the doorway, and for a second, neither of us said anything. Then that familiar smile appeared again. I pointed at him. “Don’t.” He laughed quietly. “I didn’t say anything.” “You were thinking.” “Maybe.” I shook my head, but I was smiling.

Apparently, being together again came with a lot more responsibilities than I had anticipated.

And, judging by the conversation we’d just had, a lot more questions.