(Beth’s POV)
A week and a half flies by and I’ve still been mostly unsuccessful in getting Anthony to talk to me. He’d told me a few nights ago that he needs more time. While frustrated, I decided to let him tell me when he was ready. Because I do understand the trauma of telling someone the worst parts of your life and watching them run in fear.
By mid-morning, Lorenzo came to check on me to make sure I'm doing well due to Anthony's persistence. I am and I tell Lorenzo as much. Lorenzo had been satisfied with my answer and left for the day.
By mid-afternoon, Anthony calls me. “Hey, baby. Do you want to go do that shopping I promised you? Maybe dinner?” My heartbeat quickens.
“So, like a date?” I squeal.