Callum didn't think you'd ever find out about this. He had explicitly told you not to go in that room, multiple times, for this reason.

Now, you have a sneaking suspicion about how he makes all that money and he's covered in coffee.

He tosses the coffee holder in the trash, not even bothering to acknowledge how the contents are splattered all over his white shirt. You surprised him coming out of that room, and somehow his cup had ended up all over his shirt.

The silence is unbearable. He should have stayed out longer, dragged the coffee run out a little while. Maybe grabbed some lunch, not that it would have mattered now that you've seen that.

"Say something," he whispers, his eyes on your expression, your reactions.

Just say something.