Too Late To Love Me I Already Left With His Twins (Lydia and Dave) novel Chapter 6

Bernard stepped in, hands clasped neatly in front of him.

“I apologize for disturbing you, ma’am. I came by earlier, but there was no response.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I was asleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He said it so respectfully that I almost felt bad for sounding irritated.

Almost.

“Would you like dinner?” he asked. “And if so, is there anything you particularly enjoy? Or dislike?”

That caught me off guard.

Nobody had ever really asked me that before.

I stared at him for a second longer than necessary.

Then I cleared my throat.

“I don’t like mushrooms,” I said.

He nodded once.

“And I like rice. Pasta too. Not too spicy. I like grilled chicken. And…” I paused, suddenly feeling weirdly shy. “Plantains.”

Bernard actually smiled at that.

“Noted, ma’am.”

An hour later, I was downstairs eating grilled chicken with garlic butter rice, sautéed vegetables, and caramelized plantains that nearly made me emotional.

I sat alone at a dining table that could comfortably seat twelve people and ate in complete silence.

And strangely enough, it was one of the most peaceful meals I had had in years.

No one criticizing how much I took.

No one comparing me to Iny.

No one asking me to stand up halfway through eating to do something for them.

Just food.

Warm, good food.

I should have felt lonely.

Instead, I felt… relieved.

After dinner, I went back upstairs, changed into something more comfortable, and opened my laptop.

If my life had already been hijacked, the least I could do was hold onto the parts of myself nobody had managed to kill yet.

I logged into one of my online courses.

Human Resources and People Management.

One of three programs I had enrolled in after graduating because if I could not get my second degree yet, I could at least keep building toward something.

Something mine.

Something not chosen for me.

I spent the rest of the evening buried in modules, notes, videos, and assignments until my eyes grew heavy again.

That became the beginning of a routine.

I woke up late some mornings.

Too late.

Nobody complained.

I wandered through the garden one day and discovered that I actually liked it there.

The roses near the east side of the house bloomed absurdly well, and there was a shaded corner with a stone bench where the breeze always seemed softer.

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