The check landed quietly on the table. You slid it toward the middle before iTrapped could to you.

“Not this time,” you said firmly.

iTrapped gave a soft laugh, though his eyes didn’t leave the leather folder. “You really want me to handle it? After the week I’ve had?”

He leaned back in the booth, sighing in a way that sounded half-exhausted, half-dramatic. “You know how stretched I am right now. I thought… well, I thought of all people, you’d understand that.”

You hesitated. “We could just split it.”

He shook his head slowly, his voice lowering. “That’s not really fair, is it? You’ve seen how things have been for me lately. Honestly, if you push this on me… it’s going to sting. Not because of the money, but because it’ll feel like you don’t trust me, like you don’t care how hard I’m trying.”

Your stomach tightened. “That’s not what I meant—”

“I know, I know,” he cut in quickly, softening his tone again. “You mean well. You always do. But think about it—after everything I put into us, after all the ways I show up for you, is covering tonight really too much?”

He slid the bill gently toward you, his expression almost wounded. “I’d hate to walk out of here feeling like I can’t lean on you when it matters.”

The silence stretched, heavy between you.

He sighed once more, quieter this time, his hand brushing yours. “Don’t let me down, love. Not tonight.”