Chapter 26: Dispute

...

"Return to the manor. You'll get better soon there."

The chaotic information had left Jack's mind in a fog, but these words instantly brought him back to reality. His

initially hesitant expression gradually became firm, and he gently shook his head, rejecting Bruce's suggestion.

"Wait... there's no need for that."

Jack sighed and lowered his eyes.

"Honey, I'm well aware of my situation," he said sincerely. "I can't miss work all the time... and I'm taking my medication as prescribed by the doctor. These are just minor issues."

Bruce nodded understandingly, then said, "I understand. I can help you communicate with the theater company, tell them about your situation, and give you enough time to recuperate."

"No... no, don't tell them. And... that's not what I meant." Jack frowned, his voice sounding a little strange. "You don't understand. I have my own life, honey. Not everything is that simple."

"I can't think of anything else you're worried about..."

"Hey, listen, Bruce, I'm sorry if you're worried about me, but I'm not your secretary. You can't change my job description at will—"

Jack raised his eyes, his tone half-serious and half-joking, "Maybe you sometimes confuse the difference between treating me and treating your pet? You can't always remember to comb my hair."

The atmosphere gradually became subtle.

Bruce looked at Jack quietly, as if patiently waiting for him to vent his anger.

Jack, distraught by the silent gaze, sat back on the sofa, took a few deep breaths, his fingertips tapping unconsciously against his kneecaps.

"I'm serious," he said, his voice tinged with irritation. "I can handle everything on my own, honey. I'm not some little creature that needs to be fed and tucked into bed every day."

"But you have to understand that the objective condition won't change based on your subjective will," Bruce said calmly. "This isn't something that's negotiable."

Jack's expression darkened, and he sneered.

"I have my own choices," he said harshly. "You can't make them for me."

"I imagine you're emotionally unstable right now," Bruce continued. "That makes it even harder for me to just sit back and watch. Perhaps this isn't something you can 'handle on your own.'"

Jack's head shot up, anger etched across his face.

"...I can't 'handle it myself'?" he demanded, his voice laced with suppressed anger. "You're at it again, always wanting to be in control, always thinking you know what's best for me, always thinking I should do whatever you say. Do you find that fun?"

As he finished speaking, the air felt like a taut string, poised to explode.

For a moment, the silence was broken only by the sound of their breathing.

After a moment, Bruce's attitude softened.

"Jack—"

He lowered his eyes, a hint of almost fragile fatigue in his voice.

"I'm just... just worried about you."

Jack glanced at him silently.

"What if I wasn't here today?" he asked softly. "What if you were alone, having this attack where no one could help you?"

He slowly approached, placed a hand on Jack's shoulder, and leaned down.

"I don't think I could... just stand by and watch you get into trouble."

His voice was soft, yet it pierced more deeply than any previous question.

Jack looked away, his eyes evasive.

"...I'm fine."

Deep concern shone in those deep blue eyes.

"Go back, Jack." He persuaded gently, "This is not just for you."

Silence stretched between the two.

Finally, Jack sighed and pinched his brow.

"...Okay. I know you mean well, Bruce." He finally compromised, "But I don't think this will last long. I'll move back when I feel better."

"And... I have to apologize to you," Jack hesitated for a moment, he quickly glanced at Bruce's expression, "I shouldn't say that to you, sorry."

Bruce patted Jack's shoulder gently as a silent reconciliation.

He turned to get Jack's coat, while Jack stood there, rubbing his palm with his thumb, as if he was still annoyed by his previous impulse.

Outside the window, a spider web hanging between the branches trembled slightly in the breeze. The thin silver lines outlined a deadly trap, and the hunter in the shadows was waiting for its prey to fall into the net.