Too Late To Love Me I Already Left With His Twins (Lydia and Dave) novel Chapter 307

Lydia pov

I didn’t think there was any need for games or elaborate strategies when it came to something like that. If the woman wanted to marry her boyfriend, why couldn’t she just tell him? Plain and simple. She could tell him she wanted him to put a ring on her finger, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, and that she wanted them to build a proper life together. What was the point of all the gimmicks and guessing games? We were all adults.

Honestly, I didn’t understand why people made these things more complicated than they needed to be.

Dave nodded towards me and said “Yes. You’re right.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

I smiled. “I’m always right.”

Then, before I could respond, he leaned into me, wrapping his arms around me and pressing a quick kiss against my cheek.

My whole expression softened.

“Oh, please,” I muttered when I caught the look on his face. “Dave, are you usually like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like this.” I waved a hand vaguely between us. “All soft and pleased with yourself.”

He smiled. “You don’t like it?”

“Please avoid me.”

He laughed quietly, and I felt his arm slide around me.

“Are you sure?”

Obviously, I wasn’t.

I liked it. More than I was willing to admit.

There was something almost embarrassing about how easily I melted into him now that my memories were back. I had spent so much time trying to understand what I felt for him, trying to separate old feelings from new ones, trying to determine whether the man standing in front of me was someone I still loved or simply someone my heart remembered.

Now I knew.

I loved him.

That part wasn’t complicated anymore.

What was complicated was everything that came after.

I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.

Then he asked, “Lydia, are we supposed to be sleeping in separate rooms?”

I lifted my head.

“Hmm.”

He waited.

“That is a discussion.”

He laughed softly. “A discussion?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

I looked around my room.

My bed.

My pillows.

My blanket.

My entire little system of sleeping alone, waking alone and having complete control over how much space I occupied.

I had gotten so used to it that I hadn’t even considered what happened now.

I looked back at him.

“I’ve been so used to sleeping on my own.”

He nodded.

“So…” I dragged the word out. “What do we do?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

And honestly, neither did I.

There were so many things I hadn’t thought about.

The big things had seemed obvious.

We were together.

We loved each other.

The children knew.

We were going to figure out the future.

Simple.

Except apparently the future came with a ridiculous number of small decisions nobody warned you about.

Who slept where?

Who woke up first?

Who got up when one of the children had a nightmare?

Who was going to keep what room?

Were we moving?

I had a feeling Dave was already thinking about moving to Country Z. He had mentioned it before, and knowing him, he probably already had an entire plan sitting somewhere in his head.

Then there was the house.

Would he want us to move into a bigger one?

Would the children have separate rooms?

Would I keep my own office?

Would he want us to live together immediately?

Would we even want to?

I groaned internally.

There were too many questions.

I didn’t want to spend tonight solving all of them.

I just wanted to sleep.

And apparently, I wanted to sleep beside Dave.

Which was its own problem.

I shifted closer to him, resting my head against his shoulder.

“How about this?” I said.

He looked down at me.

“You spend two hours of the night here…”

He raised an eyebrow.

“…and the rest in your room.”

Silence.

I loved him.

That much I knew with complete certainty.

But I suddenly realized that I didn’t actually know how to navigate us anymore.

Not this version of us.

Not the version where we were consciously choosing each other.

Not the version where the children were watching us figure out what our family was going to look like.

I knew how to be Lydia.

I knew how to be a mother.

I knew how to work, how to solve problems, how to survive things that should have broken me.

But being a partner again?

Being someone’s person?

Sharing a bedroom, a home, a routine, decisions, plans, mornings, nights?

I had no idea what I was doing.

And maybe that was okay.

Maybe we didn’t have to know everything tonight.

I looked down at Dave.

His eyes were closed now, his breathing becoming slower.

He looked peaceful.

I ran my fingers gently through his hair.

Tomorrow, I decided.

Tomorrow morning, we’d talk.

Properly.

We’d talk about the rooms, the house, the children, Country Z, work, our routines, what moving in together would actually look like, and whatever else came with this new version of our relationship.

I wasn’t going to keep making decisions one awkward little question at a time.

We needed to sit down and figure out what together actually meant.

I smiled faintly.

There would probably be an argument somewhere in that conversation.

There was always an argument somewhere.

But for tonight, I could live with not knowing.

Dave shifted slightly against me, his arm tightening around my waist in his sleep.

I closed my eyes.

Tomorrow could deal with tomorrow.

For now, I had him.

And somehow, that was enough.

My thoughts became slower and softer until I could no longer follow them.

The last thing I remember was the warmth of his body against mine and the quiet sound of his breathing.

Then I drifted off.