Page 20 of Comforting the Grump

“Thank you.” I stuffed my hands into my pockets as I made my way to the door. “And hey, thanks for doing this on your day off.”

“Anytime.” He smiled back, though his eyes were somber. “You’ve got my number. Call me after your appointment, okay? Keep me posted.”

“Will do.”

Back in my car, the word biopsy echoed in my mind, each repetition louder, more terrifying. Could there really be something sinister hiding within me? Prostate cancer was a shadow that loomed over men of a certain age, and suddenly, I was standing right beneath it.

Vulnerability was a bitter pill, one that didn’t go down easy. But neither did fear, which gnawed at me now, sharp-toothed and unrelenting. The analytical part of my brain, usually so precise and logical, spun wildly. Statistics on survival rates, treatment options, side effects—all of it jumbled together in an indecipherable mess.

“Stupid,” I chastised myself. “You don’t even know if there’s anything wrong yet.”

But once planted, the seed of worry sprouted roots that twisted around my gut, squeezing tight. I needed something to get me through this, and this time, sex was not an option.

I started my car and drove out of the parking lot. Turning the corner, the neon lights of the Double F cut through the encroaching darkness. It promised escape, however temporary. If I couldn’t fuck my way through this, I’d give in to the raw need to drown every terrifying possibility in alcohol.

8

ENNIO

I’d gone back and forth on whether I should tell Auden what was happening, but in the end, my need for his support outweighed my embarrassment. So here I was, pacing his office on a Saturday evening as I tried to find the words to tell him what had happened.

“He’d posted this ad online, and it looked so real, so I went to see him and talk to him. He said he had investment opportunities. Big returns, right? And stupid me, I—I believed him.” I stopped and turned to face him, his expression a blend of concern and calm—classic Auden. “God, I was such an idiot. I gave him access to my accounts, Auden. Everything’s gone.”

His eyes widened. “How much money did you lose?”

I winced. After the phone call with the FBI, I’d forced myself to look at all the statements and make a calculation. It had been even worse than I had thought initially. “Technically, twenty-seven thousand dollars, but that doesn’t include the interest I could’ve and should’ve made on that amount over the last two years.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Apparently, Rudy stole over ten million dollars from clients and has fled the country. The chances of me ever seeing any of my money back are practically zero.”

“Are you okay? Financially, I mean?”

“Other than losing all my life savings, including money meant for my retirement? Sure. I just have to start from scratch…at thirty-six years old.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I sighed. “Not as sorry as I am. I feel so stupid.”

Auden leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight. “Ennio, you’re not stupid. These scammers are professionals at manipulation. You can’t blame yourself for wanting to trust someone.”

“I’m—I’m humiliated. How could I let myself get conned like some—” I cut off, the word mark too sour to say aloud.

“Hey,” Auden’s voice was firm yet gentle, “you’ve got a big heart. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

I sighed, dropping into the chair opposite him. “Yeah, well, this ‘big heart’ cost me my entire life savings.”

“Money can be earned back, Ennio. What matters is that you’re safe.” Auden’s eyes locked on mine, steady as ever.

“Safe and broke,” I muttered, but his words did soothe a fraction of the burn.

“Listen, we’ll figure this out, okay?” Auden promised, reaching across the desk to give my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Thanks,” I whispered, allowing his strength to anchor me before I pulled away. “But promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad. Please. I couldn’t stand them knowing how much of a mess I’ve made.”

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