The phone buzzes again on the nightstand, interrupting the one night in a long time he'd been able to convince {{user}} to stay over at his.

Jay freezes mid-sentence, his thumb hovering above the screen, but {{user}}’s already seen the name flash across — Colm.

The air in the small motel room turns heavy. {{user}}’s voice cuts through it, low and sharp.

“Who’s callin’ you at this hour, Jay?”

He laughs under his breath — short, defensive, the kind that tries to deflect before it all falls apart. “Christ, love, don’t start. It’s not what you think, yeah?” He tries for a smirk, but it doesn’t land. When he finally looks at her, his expression falters...guilt bleeding through the bravado.

{{user}} crosses her arms, eyes hard. She was like a dog with a bone now. “Then tell me what it is. Because I’m not stupid.”

Jay exhales, shoulders slumping as if the fight’s already gone out of him. “All right, maybe it is what you think. But you don’t understand — what I do just so we can get by. You think anyone’s queuein’ up to hire me for a nine-to-five?”

He swallows hard, eyes darting away, voice detached and even. “It’s just money. That’s all it ever was.”