Page 57 of Comforting the Grump

He was quiet for a long, long time, staring at his hands as if they held the key to the universe. “I wasn’t always like that, but I had to become that way. I’m not sure I would’ve survived otherwise, at least emotionally. There’s only so many times you can get hurt before it permanently damages you, you know?”

Was he trying to kill me? Because my heart filled with so much softness for this man, so much empathy and love, that I didn’t know what to do with myself. I wanted to hug him, to hold him close more than anything, but he wouldn’t let me. I didn’t even ask. His body language made clear he was in full-on defensive mode.

So I sat with him until I somehow felt his tension ease. Only then did I get up. I walked over to him and pressed a kiss on hishead. “Thank you for sharing this with me. I’m honored you let me in.”

Was it enough? No, nowhere near, but it was more than he’d ever shared with me before. It was a start.

19

MARNIN

Ichecked my watch again, even though I’d done that enough times in the last hour to know that very little time had passed. But Ennio was late, and I didn’t like it. He’d been pulling double shifts all week, filling in for a coworker who’d gotten into a motorcycle accident. Today, he’d left the apartment at eight, and twelve hours later, he was still not home. Not that I was keeping track or anything.

Finally, the front door opened, and Ennio stumbled in, his usually vibrant demeanor dimmed like a wilting flower. His hair was disheveled, his face pale, and his eyes heavy with exhaustion. With a slow movement, he took his coat off and hung it, groaning as he bent over to untie his shoes.

I felt an unfamiliar tug in my chest. “Rough day?”

He trudged to the fridge and took out a bottle of water, downing it in one go. “It was insane. I don’t know how I made it through this week.”

I moved closer, studying the dark circles under his eyes. My protective instincts kicked in. “Right, that’s it. You’re not cooking tonight.”

Ennio slowly turned around, facing me. “But?—”

“No buts.” I reached for my phone. “I’m ordering Thai. You’re going to sit there and not move a muscle. Got it?”

A small smile tugged at Ennio’s lips. “Yes, sir.”

Ennio padded to the guest room, probably to change into something more comfortable. When had I become so soft? This wasn’t like me. And yet, here I was, fussing over Ennio like a mother hen.

I called the Thai restaurant and quickly placed the order. Hell, I even knew what to get him without asking. When had that happened? Somehow, we’d found this…routine, like a couple that had been living together for a while. The thought should terrify me, but it somehow didn’t.

I heard his shower turn on. Oh, good idea. A nice hot shower would ease his aching muscles, and he should be done before the food arrived. This Thai place was only two blocks from my place, so their delivery guy was usually fast.

By the time Ennio shuffled back into the room, I’d set the dining table and poured us each a nice glass of cold Riesling. He blinked when he noticed the table. “I didn’t mean to take so long. I should’ve helped with setting the table.”

I waved his words away. “Don’t be ridiculous. It took me less than a minute. Sit. Food should be here any minute.”

He lowered himself onto the chair with a slight grunt. “Fuck me sideways, everything hurts.”

“Yeah, I can tell. So relax. You’re not lifting a finger tonight.”

“I feel bad.”

“Why? You’ve cooked for me almost every night since you moved in.”

“Well, it seems like the least I can do, considering you won’t let me pay you rent or contribute to the groceries. It’s not fair for you to do everything.”

I snorted. “Life’s not fair, and if you haven’t figured that out by now, you haven’t been paying attention. I don’t need yourmoney, darling, no offense. The mortgage on this place has been paid off, and the groceries amount to nothing, even with the occasional takeout or delivery thrown in. Hell, you’re saving me money by cooking.”

He let out a long sigh. “If you put it that way…”

“I do. Also, you look like you’ve been run over by a truck. Multiple times.”

Ennio’s lower lip jutted out in a pout that was far too adorable for a grown man. “I’m not that bad.”

“You’re right,” I deadpanned. “You look worse.”

“Jerk,” he muttered, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

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