Well, she's - she's not lying, he supposes. She would understand if she can see everything. The latent discomfort of that revelation still prickles under his skin, but there's no point in trying to hide it, or anything.

He drains his mug and sets it down, the click of cheap ceramic against tile punctuating the silence of Tim - not knowing how to respond to that. Talking about things with Jay usually translated to something shouting-match-related instead of actually parsing their issues like normal, well-adjusted people.

Normal. Well-adjusted. That's almost funny.

"Okay," he says with a short jerking nod. "Um - thanks. I guess."

He guesses. Wow, way to be tactful, Tim. Ungrateful bastard.