Page 62 of Comforting the Grump

“Your dream?” Cas prompted softly.

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. “I’ve always wanted to open my own restaurant in Forestville. A place that’s welcoming and homey, yet vibrant and colorful, like…” I gestured vaguely at myself, managing a weak smile. “Well, you know. Me.”

Cas reached out and squeezed my hand. “That sounds amazing, Ennio. And it still can be. This is a setback, not the end.”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of disappointment settle heavily in my chest. “I don’t see how. It took me years to save that much. By the time I save it again, I’ll be too old to run a restaurant.”

Cas leaned forward, his eyes intense. “Ennio, I have an idea. What if Tiago and Tomás invested in your restaurant?”

My heart skipped a beat. For a split second, hope flared bright and hot in my chest. But I quickly tamped it down, shaking my head. “No, Cas. I couldn’t possibly?—”

“Hear me out,” he insisted, gesturing with a half-eaten breadstick. “You know the career they’ve both had, and none of them are big spenders. They have a lot of money put away, and I mean a lot. More than you and I have ever seen or will ever see in our lifetime. If they heard about this, I know they’d want to help you.”

I fiddled with my napkin, avoiding Cas’s earnest gaze. The bustling sounds of the pizzeria faded into the background as I wrestled with my emotions. Part of me wanted to jump at the chance, to grab onto this lifeline with both hands. But a larger part recoiled at the idea. “I appreciate the thought, I really do,” I said finally, my voice tight. “But I can’t accept that kind of help. It’s… It’s too much.”

“But—”

“No, Cas,” I cut him off more sharply than intended. I took a deep breath, trying to soften my tone. “It’s not about the money. It’s about doing this on my own terms. I don’t want to be beholden to anyone, even people as wonderful as Tiago and Tomás.”

“I get it, I do. But this wouldn’t be charity. It would be an investment.”

“An investment?”

Cas nodded eagerly. “Tiago and Tomás wouldn’t be giving you a handout. They’d be investing in your talent, in your dream. And you’d have to pay them back, over time, but without the insane pressure of a business loan.”

“Which I will never get without any savings of my own.”

“Yeah, but even if you did, those loans can feel like a chokehold. Trust me, I know.”

The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten. I glanced around the bustling pizzeria, taking in the lively chatter and the aroma of melted cheese and tomato sauce. Could I really have a place like this of my own?

“I appreciate you looking out for me, Cas. Really, I do,” I said, my voice catching slightly. “It’s just… I’ve always dreamed of doing this on my own, you know? Proving to myself—and maybe to my dad, if I’m being honest—that I could make it happen.”

Cas nodded, his eyes full of understanding. “I get that, Ennio. But accepting help doesn’t make you weak. It can make you stronger.”

“But what if I fail?” I whispered, voicing the fear gnawing at me. “What if I took their money, and it all went south? I’d be letting them down, letting everyone down. I’d never forgive myself.”

“That’s a risk with any business venture,” Cas pointed out. “But you’re talented, Ennio. Your food is amazing, and you have such a gift for making people feel welcome. I’m convinced you could make this work. And even if it doesn’t work out, they wouldn’t see it as a failure. They’d be proud of you for trying.”

I bit my lip, torn between the surge of hope and the stubborn pride that had always pushed me to do things on my own. The possibility of actually realizing my dream was tantalizing, but the idea of accepting such a huge favor made me squirm.

“I don’t know, Cas,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “It’s a lot to think about.”

“Think about it. Talk to them. See what they have in mind.”

Could I really do this? As scary as it was, the thought of having my own restaurant, creating a space filled with love, laughter, and amazing food, made my heart soar.

“I’ll need some time. It’s a big decision.”

“Of course,” Cas said, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “No pressure. Just know that the offer’s there if you want it.”

As we signaled for the check, I was lost in thought, imagining the restaurant of my dreams while simultaneously worrying about the potential pitfalls. It was a dizzying mix of hope and fear, possibility and doubt. But for the first time in weeks, I felt a tiny spark of optimism flickering to life.

We stood from the table, and I felt a sudden rush of emotion. Despite my inner turmoil, I was overwhelmed with gratitude for Cas’s friendship and support. Without thinking, I pulled him into a tight embrace, wrapping my arms around his solid frame.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice thick with feeling. “For everything.”

Cas hugged me back just as fiercely, his strong arms a comforting presence. “Anytime, Ennio. That’s what friends are for.”

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