Isaiah was here every day without fail. He’s always in the café, asking me more about my parents because he is already nervous of my mother’s birthday next week.
“Don’t fret,” I told him as I stared at him fidgeting on his seat. “It’s only a small dinner with the three of us, plus you. No one is going to eat you in that dinner.” I smirked but he only looked at me with a worried set of eyes.
“Does your mother love gifts?” he asked while fiddling on his fingers on top of the table.
I smiled and chuckled. “Of course! Everyone loves gifts,” I replied, trying to sound lively so he could finally let go of all the anxiety that he’s feeling inside. I wanted to comfort him but it seems impossible now since he actually is already frantic and it’s so obvious.
He blew a heavy breath before ner
