Page 32 of Comforting the Grump

“Lead the way.” The solidity of his touch grounded me, kept me from spiraling out.

We stopped by the receptionist, who handed us a sheet with names and numbers that I folded and put in my pocket, and then we were out the door.

We were silent as we walked back to the car. When we reached it, my hand shook as I opened the door. “Do you need me to drive?” Ennio asked softly.

I looked at Ennio, really looked at him, noting the crease of concern between his brows. “Sorry, I’m just…” I didn’t even know how to begin articulating the magnitude of emotions bottlenecking within me.

“Talk to me, Mar. I’m here.”

And that was all it took. The dam broke. Tears streaked down my face, surprising me more than they did him. I was never the type to cry. Fuck, I despised vulnerability, saw it as a weakness. But here I was, bawling in public like some melodramatic protagonist in a B-movie, my body racked with sobs I couldn’t stifle.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to somewhat calm the storm inside me. But what should’ve been a comfort also unlocked something primal within me—a yearning for connection, for reassurance on a level deeper than mere words could provide.

Gradually, my sobs subsided to sniffles, the tears slowing until they were a cool dampness on my cheeks. I pulled away slightly, enough to see Ennio’s face, his blue eyes full of worry and something akin to pain—empathy, perhaps, or the reflection of my own tumultuous emotions.

“Sorry,” I rasped, voice hoarse from the crying. “I didn’t mean to, you know, fall apart like that. And for not correcting him when he thought you were my partner,” I added, the memory of the urologist’s assumption a fresh twinge of guilt in my chest.

“You don’t have to apologize for having feelings, Marnin. Or for leaning on a friend when things get tough.”

I looked into his eyes, seeing the open honesty in them, the unwavering support.

“I’m not used to this. Falling apart, needing someone.” My voice was a confession, an admission of how deeply his presence affected me.

“Need is human, Marnin. And I’m here because I want to be, not because you’re forcing me. You know that, right?” His voicewas soft, filled with a warmth that wrapped around me like one of those thick knitted blankets.

“Right.” A restless energy was building inside me, a need for something more tangible than words and promises. The vulnerability of the day had stripped away layers of my usual defenses, leaving me exposed and raw.

“Ennio…” My voice broke on his name, my request hanging unspoken in the air between us. “I need…? Would you…?” I trailed off, my mouth suddenly dry, my heart pounding a frenetic beat against my ribcage, and my mind reeling with the audacity of the question I was about to ask.

“Anything.”

He had no clue what he was saying or what I was asking.

“Would you…have sex with me?”

The silence stretched, taut and electric, as if the air itself waited for his response. My pulse echoed in my ears, each beat a reminder of the line I’d crossed. I hadn’t meant to say it, not really. But there it was, out in the open, blurring the edges of our friendship into something uncharted and dangerous.

Now, the ball was in his court.

12

ENNIO

Iblinked. Marnin’s proposition was a bolt out of the blue, unexpected and electrifying.

“Are you serious?” I asked, my voice a mix of disbelief and intrigue.

“As a heart attack.” He casually leaned against his car, every inch the picture of nonchalance despite the obvious evidence of his earlier breakdown, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something else. Anticipation? Uncertainty?

My heart hammered against my ribs, not just at the thought of being with Marnin but what this could mean for both of us. He was a fortress of self-control, with walls I’d never dreamed of scaling, but now he was lowering the proverbial drawbridge to let me in. Hell if I was gonna say no to that. This was a once-in-a-lifetime deal.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“What, you expected me to need some time to consider it? Overthinking is your domain, Mar. Not mine. I’m a card-carrying member of the ‘if it feels good, do it’ club.”

---