Beyond The Fine Line

Chapter XLI - Aftermath

The night enveloped the bedroom in complete darkness, with the blackout curtains ensuring no city light could pierce the stillness. The faint sound of rain tapping against the windows added a subtle rhythm to the quiet. The unspoken words and unresolved tensions seemed to hang in the air, creating a palpable sense of distance.

Like every night for the past two weeks, Sean struggled to sleep. On the surface, he acted as if everything was fine, but deep down, it was just another lie. The weight of the consequences was suffocating.

A few days in the hospital had cost nearly three years' worth of his living expenses. Ten internal and fifteen external stitches marked the severity of his injury, compounded by antibiotics treatment and restricted movement. It somewhat didn't come as a surprise that years of surviving on instant noodles had left his body malnourished, which vastly contributed to the rapidly spreading infection and hindered recovery progress. As a result, his treatment plan spanned over two months – care he knew he couldn't afford and another thing Jay was forced to cover for him.

But this wasn't the only reason why Sean couldn't shake the gnawing guilt that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Neither was it the lingering pain in his arm or the relentless reminders of how close he had come to something far worse. It was Jay's response – or lack thereof – that haunted him.

Jay hadn't brought up the argument again, as if his own feelings didn't matter, as if he had decided to bury everything to make things easier for Sean. Instead, he focused entirely on Sean's recovery, allowing him to fully move into the penthouse, helping him with every task, ensuring his diet was balanced and full of nutrients, accompanying him to follow-up appointments, and even picking up the slack with his internship. Same for the trip they had to cancel, never voicing any resentment or frustration. Jay simply continued to be there, steadfast and composed, as though nothing had changed.

But Sean could sense that something was off. The absence of any emotional response, the way Jay carefully sidestepped anything that might lead back to their argument, made Sean feel worse than if he had just gotten angry. He guessed this was how Jay processed things – by pushing them aside, by refusing to let emotions get in the way – but in this case, he would have preferred anything else because the silence was suffocating, and the weight of Jay's unspoken hurt was more than he could bear.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a sliver of light from the hallway cut through the darkness. Sean instinctively turned towards it, leaning on his left arm and ignoring the sharp pain that followed. Jay must have worked late again – it had become a regular occurrence lately. But this was the first time Sean had seen him look so exhausted. Yet, the weariness vanished almost instantly as Jay realised he wasn't sleeping.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" Jay asked, but then his eyebrows furrowed worriedly at Sean's pained expression. "Do you need me to bring you painkillers?"

Sean shook his head and sat on the bed, running his fingers through his hair as if collecting his thoughts. Seeing Jay so worn out yet still prioritising him deepened his guilt and pushed him over a breaking point. "Can we... talk?"

Jay leaned on the doorframe and nodded slightly. He knew how hard this must be for Sean – someone who always valued his independence to be so reliant on someone else. Not to mention the financial consequences, which must have been even more daunting than everything else. Watching Sean struggle like this was tough, but Jay wanted to respect his space, giving him time to work through it on his own terms.

He sighed and gently patted the bed beside him. "Can you come here, please?"

The quiet voice with desperate notes made him reconsider the core of Sean's struggle as if suddenly it became about something else entirely, making Sean appear incredibly vulnerable. Jay crossed the room without hesitation, and the mattress dipped slightly as he pulled him close. His fingers gently tangled in the black hair, burying Sean's face in the crook of his neck.