Too Late To Love Me I Already Left With His Twins (Lydia and Dave) novel Chapter 244

Then another.

Then another.

Within fifteen minutes, I had created a spreadsheet.

Anna was still talking,

“Why are you so quiet?”

“I’m making a list.”

“A list?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of list?”

I turned my laptop slightly toward myself as though she could somehow see it through the phone.

“I’m building a timeline.”

She burst out laughing.

“Oh my God. You’re making a dating project plan.”

“It’s not a project plan.”

“What is it?”

“A structured approach.”

“That’s a project plan.”

“It’s different.”

“How?”

“It has a better objective.”

She laughed again.

I ignored her.

I created columns.

Week One – Reconnect Outside Work.

Week Two – Casual Invitation.

Week Three – Proper Date.

Then I added another column.

Risk.

Anna went silent.

“What are you doing?”

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“Risk assessment.”

dating Lydia?”

“Yes.”

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“You’re insane.’

“Potential risks include making her uncomfortable, damaging our professional relationship, misreading her feelings, and moving too quickly.”

Anna sighed.

“You really are in love.”

I stopped typing.

The words felt different coming from someone else.

I looked at the screen.

Then smiled faintly.

“Yeah.”

“You’re serious?”

“Very.”

“Well…”

Her voice softened.

“Then don’t overthink it.”

I frowned.

“That’s your advice?”

“Yes.”

“You just spent twenty minutes giving me a list.”

“Because you need help.”

| “Clearly.”

“But here’s the thing, Theo. You don’t need to manufacture some perfect version of yourself for her. Lydia already knows you. She knows your flaws. She knows you’re stubborn. She knows you’re annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“She knows you can be arrogant.”

“Wonderful.”

“And she still likes being around you.”

I went quiet.

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Anna continued.

stop trying to build some elaborate campaign and just let her see that you want her.”

I looked down at the spreadsheet.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe the most ridiculous part of all of this was that I had spent my entire career convincing people that the best strategy was always the one with the most preparation.

But Lydia wasn’t a business deal.

There was no presentation.

No pitch deck.

No negotiation strategy.

No guaranteed outcome.

Just me.

And her.

“I think I’m scared,” I admitted.

Anna went quiet.

“Of what?”

“That she’ll say no.”

“You?”

I laughed softly.

“Yes. Me.”

“Well, congratulations.”

“For what?”

“You’re officially human.”

I shook my head, smiling.

“Goodnight, Anna.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Do something.”

I looked at my screen.

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“Like what?”

Something small.”

I thought for a moment.

Then an idea came to me.

Not expensive.

Not dramatic.

Not something that would make Lydia immediately realize I had spent half the night planning her seduction like a corporate acquisition.

Just something thoughtful.

Something that would make her smile.

“I have an idea.”

Anna hummed.

“Good.”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“No, tell me now.”

“Goodnight, Anna.”

“Theo!”

I ended the call.

For the first time that night, I leaned back in my chair without feeling restless.

My eyes moved over the list on my screen.

Flowers.

Books.

Dinner.

Dessert.

Her favorite things.

Time.

Attention.

Patience.

And, eventually, courage.

I closed the laptop.

Tomorrow, I would start.

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Not as Lydia’s client.

Nat as Anna’s little brother.

Not as the man who had accidentally spent months falling for the woman he was supposed to keep things professional with.

Tomorrow, I would start as a man who had finally admitted what he wanted.

Lydia.

And for once in my life, I wasn’t interested in negotiating for something.

I wanted to earn it.

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Gone?

Dave’s POV

I had been perfectly comfortable in Lydia’s living room until the knock came.

The kids had spent the last hour talking over one another, dragging me through every detail of the new cafe they had visited, and I had been enjoying it more than I wanted to admit. Ava had shown me pictures of the pink rainfall installation three separate times, each time pointing out something different. Eli had somehow turned the entire conversation into a lecture about the science behind artificial rain, and I had let him, because I had missed this. I had missed the noise, the ridiculous arguments, the little hands tugging at my sleeve whenever they wanted me to look at something.

Then the door opened.

Theo.

I watched Lydia brighten when she saw him.

It wasn’t dramatic.

She didn’t throw herself into his arms or smile like a woman in love.

It was smaller than that.

A shift.

Her shoulders relaxed. Her mouth curved. Her voice lost that careful professional edge she sometimes used when speaking to people she didn’t know well.

And somehow, I noticed every bit of it.

I stayed where I was.

Theo held a package in one hand, looking entirely too comfortable standing at her doorstep.

The conversation about pickles began.

I almost laughed.

Pickles.

Of all things.

Lydia teased him about the packaging, he defended Anna, and she laughed. Not the polite laugh she gave during business meetings. The real one. The one I remembered from years ago, before everything between us had become complicated.

Something uncomfortable tightened beneath my ribs.

I told myself it was nothing.

Then Eli called Theo “Theo.”

I looked at my son.

Then at Theo.

Theo smiled at him like he had heard the name a hundred times.

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Ava joined them too, teasing Theo about how she supposedly wasn’t a fan of him while simultaneously standing close enough to make it obvious that she liked him.

The three of them fell into their own little conversation.

And I stood there watching.

I hated how naturally Theo fit into the space.

Not because he was doing anything wrong.

That was the problem.

He wasn’t.

He was kind to the kids. He listened to them. He laughed with them. He didn’t try too hard to impress anyone. Even when Ava challenged him, he played along.

He looked like someone who belonged.

And for reasons I didn’t want to examine, that bothered me.

When Lydia carried the pickles into the kitchen, I followed.

I told myself I was only curious.

Then I heard myself ask, “Who is he?”

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I had made a mistake.

Lydia turned slowly.

The look she gave me wasn’t confused.

It was offended.

“What about him?”

“I don’t know him.”

“That’s a personal problem.”

I almost smiled despite myself.

Almost.

But I was already irritated.

He had been standing at her door. He knew her children. He had apparently been in her house before. He had a familiarity with her that I hadn’t been prepared for.

“He came to your house.”

“Yes.”

“He seems familiar with you.”

She stared at me.

Then her expression hardened.

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“Am I supposed to submit a guest list to you?”

hould have stopped.

I knew I should have.

Instead, I pushed.

“I just want to know who spends time around my children.”

Her eyes flashed.

“And you think I’m careless enough to bring random people around them?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The silence afterward was immediate.

I watched the anger settle across her face, and somewhere beneath my own irritation, guilt began creeping in.

She wasn’t wrong.

I had no right to interrogate her.

We weren’t married.

I didn’t live here.

I didn’t get to decide who she allowed through her front door.

And yet I had walked into her kitchen and spoken as though I did.

“I think you should trust my judgment,” she said.

“I do.”

“Then act like it.”

That one landed.

Hard.

Before I could answer, Theo came back.

And somehow, instead of letting the moment die quietly, I made everything worse.

We introduced ourselves.

He told me he ran a company.

I asked how he knew Lydia.

He looked toward her.

“I’ll let Lydia answer that.”

Something about that answer irritated me more than it should have.

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He wasn’t defensive.

wasn’t trying to prove anything.

He simply looked at her as though whatever existed between them was hers to explain, not his.

And Lydia smiled.

“Smart man.’

I felt something twist in my chest.

I hated that too.

Then he said he had to leave.

He walked toward the door, stopped beside Lydia, and pulled her into a brief side hug.

I watched her stiffen for half a second before relaxing.

That tiny movement shouldn’t have mattered.

It did.

And before I could stop myself, I spoke.

“You didn’t strike me as a man with so much work to do.”

Theo looked back.

I glanced at the package.

“Especially considering you came all the way here to deliver homemade pickles.”

The words sounded harmless.

They weren’t.

Theo’s eyes met mine.

For one long second, neither of us moved.

Then he smiled.

Not the kind of smile people gave when they were amused.

The kind they gave when they understood exactly what you were doing and had decided you weren’t worth the

argument.

“Have a good evening.”

He left.

The door closed.

Silence filled the room.

I turned around.

Lydia was staring at me.

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Not angrily this time.

Worse.

Disappointed.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

I swallowed.

“Do what?”

“Interfere in my life.”

Her voice was quiet, but every word landed with precision.

“Who I invite into my home, who I speak to, who I work with, who my friends are–that is my business.”

“I know.”

“No, you clearly don’t.”

I looked down.

She stepped closer.

“And especially don’t question me about people in front of my children. If you have an issue with something, you talk to me privately. You don’t corner me in my own kitchen and act like you have some authority over my life.”

“I wasn’t trying to-”

“You were.”

I stopped.

She folded her arms.

“And Dave, let me make this very clear. You don’t get to interfere in my life because we used to be married. You don’t get to intimidate my guests. You don’t get to decide who belongs around me.”

Her eyes held mine.

“Do it again, and I’ll deal with it messily.”

I blinked.

“Messily?”

“Legally, if I have to.”

There was no hesitation in her voice.

For a second, I almost laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because I knew her.

That was exactly what she would do.

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She would find the cleanest legal route available and ruin me with paperwork.

xhaled.

“You’re right.”

She didn’t respond.

“I shouldn’t have questioned you.”

Still nothing.

“I was out of line.” 1

Her expression remained guarded.

I rubbed the back of my neck.

“I’m sorry, Lydia.”

Something shifted in her face.

Barely.

The tension around her eyes loosened. Her shoulders dropped a fraction, and the hard edge in her gaze softened.

There.

I saw it.

She was still angry.

But she had accepted the apology.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

I nodded.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then my eyes drifted toward the front door.

Theo was gone.

But somehow, his presence still seemed to linger.

And a thought I had been trying very hard not to entertain finally forced its way into the open.

What if I had waited too long?

What if while I was busy figuring out how to rebuild my relationship with my children, Lydia had been rebuilding a life that no longer had a space for me?

I looked at her.

Really looked at her.

She wasn’t waiting for me anymore.

She had her children.

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Her career.

Her friends.

Her own world.

And now there were men like Theo walking casually through the front door, making her laugh, carrying gifts, knowing things about her that I hadn’t known in years.

For the first time, the possibility of losing her didn’t feel theoretical.

It felt frighteningly real.

And as I stood there watching the woman who had once been mine turn away from me, one thought settled heavily in my chest.

Maybe I hadn’t come back soon enough.

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Flowers

Lydia POV

By the time Dave finally left later that night, the house felt strangely quieter.

Not peaceful.

Just… quieter.

I stood by the door for a few seconds after it closed, staring at the spot where he had been standing as if the argument had somehow left an imprint on the floor.

Then I heard Eli’s voice behind me.

“So… are we eating?”

I turned.