Too Late To Love Me I Already Left With His Twins (Lydia and Dave) novel Chapter 285

Lydia POV

Was that actually a C-section scar?

Was I really the mother of those children?

I didn’t know.

And the more I looked at myself, the stranger everything became.

This wasn’t the body I remembered.

The last time I remembered touching my body, I was in my early twenties.

This body felt different.

There was a maturity to it that I couldn’t explain.

It looked like mine, obviously.

But it also didn’t.

It was like someone had taken my body, kept it somewhere for ten years, and then returned it to me with a few upgrades I never requested.

Honestly, it was exhausting.

So eventually, I slept.

I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep.

I just remember being tired, closing my eyes, and then everything went blank.

When I woke up the next morning, doctors were already around me.

Apparently, mornings in hospitals were very busy.

I took my medications, and then they started another round of neurological evaluations.

They shone that little light into my eyes.

They tested my pupils.

They asked me questions.

They checked whether I could feel pain.

They touched different parts of my body and asked me what I could feel.

They tested sensation.

Movement.

Reflexes.

Everything.

At one point, I was just staring at them like, Can you people please let me breathe?

But I cooperated.

Mostly because I didn’t exactly have somewhere else to go.

After they were done, I was left alone for a while.

And then Dave came in.

My alleged ex-husband.

The man who apparently fathered my alleged children.

Honestly, the situation was beginning to sound like one of those ridiculous dramas where the main character wakes up after an accident and discovers she has a secret family.

Except I was the main character.

And I didn’t remember signing the contract.

He came in holding his phone and started showing me photographs.

Photographs of me.

With the children.

With Ava.

With Eli.

There were so many of them.

And honestly?

Those children were beautiful.

I couldn’t deny it.

They looked so good.

So nice.

So familiar in a way I couldn’t explain.

There was something about looking at them that tugged at me.

I felt drawn to them.

Attracted to them.

Not romantically, obviously.

Just…

Something.

Something maternal, maybe.

I didn’t know.

But attraction wasn’t proof.

It couldn’t be.

I kept reminding myself of that.

Because I didn’t want to start believing something simply because everyone else had decided it was true.

Then Dave started explaining everything again.

He told me to use the internet.

He told me I could search for myself.

“Ms Lydia.”

Dave Ashton.

My supposed ex-husband.

He told me I could search for him too.

Apparently, I was a PR goddess.

A successful PR consultant.

A woman who owned a PR company with Madam Eloise.

Me.

A PR goddess.

I almost laughed when he said it.

Because yes, I remembered being interested in PR.

I remembered having some passion for it.

But I didn’t remember sitting down one day and deciding, You know what? I’m going to build an entire career around this.

And certainly not to the point where people were apparently calling me a goddess.

My parents never exactly gave me the impression that I was destined for some grand life anyway.

Iny was always the one who seemed to get everything.

The good things.

The opportunities.

The attention.

So hearing that I had somehow become this successful woman was… strange.

Very strange.

Still, Dave insisted I could verify everything.

He told me I could get a phone from a nurse and search.

He said I could contact the children’s school.

Their teachers.

Anybody.

He said there would be pictures.

Articles.

Interviews.

Proof.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel.

So eventually, I just looked at him.

“Okay, fine.”

He nodded.

I could tell he wanted me to believe him.

Maybe desperately.

And honestly, I almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

Because whatever relationship he believed we had, I didn’t have access to it.

He was a stranger carrying memories that belonged to me.

And that was probably one of the cruelest things about this entire situation.

I rubbed my temple.

“Can you please excuse me? My head is aching me.”

He immediately nodded.

“Yeah. Of course.”

He started walking away.

Then I looked at the photographs he’d been showing me.

“Take those pictures with you.”

He stopped.

“No.”

I frowned.

“Why?”

“I’m not taking them.”

“Why?”

“I’m leaving them with you.”

I stared at him.

“Okay, fine.”

He walked out.

And finally, the room was quiet again.

I sat back against the pillows and let out a long breath.

Thank God.

Almost immediately, a nurse came in with my medications.

“Oh my God, thank you,” I muttered as she handed them to me.

She smiled.

I took the medication, but before she could leave, something occurred to me.

“Um…”

She turned around.

“Yes?”

“Please, could you lend me your phone?”

She looked slightly surprised.

“My phone?”

“Yes, please.”

She hesitated before handing it over.

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