All Chapters of Too Late To Love Me: I Already Left With His Twins: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Dave’s POVAs I got home that night, I stopped myself halfway through my bedroom before I could start spiraling again.Because honestly, the self hatred was becoming repetitive.Yes, I had failed.Spectacularly.I had missed six years of my children’s lives. Six years of birthdays, milestones, routines, personalities, memories. Six years where somebody else had been teaching them how to swim, helping them with homework, listening to their stories, learning their fears.I knew all of that already.And sitting in my car outside Lydia’s house replaying my failures over and over again was not going to change anything.So for the first time since finding out about them, I decided to stop obsessing over what I had missed and start figuring out what to do now.I grabbed my laptop, sat at the edge of my bed, and started researching with a level of seriousness I genuinely had never applied to anything outside work before.How to integrate yourself into your children’s lives after absence.How

Lydia’s POVI did not expect Dave to take this as seriously as he did.That was probably the most surprising part of the entire thing.Not the gifts.Not the awkward attempts at conversation.Not even the fact that he showed up early every single time like somebody tracking attendance for grades.It was the effort.Consistent effort.And honestly, consistency from Dave Ashton used to be rarer than world peace.At first, I kept waiting for the performance to crack.Because people could pretend for a few days. Especially guilty people. Guilt made people dramatic. Temporary. Emotional. It made them overcompensate until reality became inconvenient again.So naturally, I expected him to eventually relax.Miss a visit.Show up distracted.Forget something important.Disappear emotionally.But somehow, over the next two weeks, he didn’t.Three visits every week.Exactly one hour.Never late.Actually, scratch that.He was annoyingly early.One day I opened the security app fifteen minutes be

Lydia’s POVBy the time Marcus texted me the café location, I was already halfway dressed.Your favorite café.That alone almost made me cancel.Because honestly, why did men always insist on adding emotional symbolism to everything?Still, I sighed, locked my phone, and continued getting ready.I didn’t want this meeting to feel too serious.That was the problem.The more serious something felt, the more complicated it became emotionally. And right now, my emotions were already overcrowded enough without adding another situation into the mess.So instead of dressing like someone heading into a relationship defining conversation, I chose simplicity.Well.My version of simplicity.I wore a long cream coat dress that cinched softly at the waist with gold buttons running down the front. Elegant. Structured. Clean. The sleeves stopped perfectly at my wrists, and the fabric moved smoothly against my skin when I walked. I paired it with nude heels and small gold earrings, then packed my ha

Lydia’s POV The thing about Marcus was that he loved quietly until suddenly it became impossible not to notice. I had been overwhelmed for nearly two straight weeks. Work deadlines. School activities. One child developing a sudden obsession with building “scientifically accurate” pillow forts. The other trying to negotiate later bedtimes using emotional manipulation disguised as logic. I was exhausted. Completely exhausted. And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, I forgot my own birthday dinner. Not the birthday itself. Just the reservation. I had booked a private dinner nearly three weeks earlier with every intention of attending after work, then completely forgot because my brain had turned into corporate mashed potatoes. I only remembered when my assistant asked: “Are you still going to your reservation tonight?” I stared at her blankly. “What reservation?” By the time I got home later that evening, I looked terrible. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually.

Lydia POVEventually I reached for my sleeping pills from the bedside drawer.Because honestly?A woman could not have one peaceful emotional crisis in this life apparently.I swallowed one with water, stared at the ceiling for another few minutes, then finally grabbed my phone.Lydia:DR Sana, I need an emergency therapy session tomorrow morning. Please tell me you have space.The reply came surprisingly fast.Dr. Sana:8 a.m.You are officially my most stressful client.I snorted despite myself.Then finally, eventually, sleep dragged me under.The next morning felt painfully early.I woke up exhausted despite technically sleeping.Fantastic.I got dressed quietly in a cream turtleneck and wide leg trousers, tied my hair back lazily, then drove toward Dr. Sana’s office in complete silence.No music.No podcast.Nothing.I needed to hear my own thoughts unfortunately.Traffic crawled slowly while my mind kept replaying everything again like a toxic emotional slideshow.By the time I