Jack stared at Robby for a second, then moved past him because he needed to move just then, even if it hurt like hell. He saw the presents carefully stacked on his coffee table and the takeout boxes on the kitchen counter, which only made this whole thing worse. He could see how Robby had taken the time to get the containers out of the plastic bag and to put a plate and chopsticks where Jack usually sat because it had the best line of sight to the door, the windows, and the patio door. For all that Robby could not talk about his feelings, he showed he cared in little things like that. And then he did this shit.

"Being around me makes things worse," he repeated, turning to Robby and crossing his arms over his chest. "Do you want to elaborate on that? Because what I'm hearing is I make your life worse, and that's not a great thing to hear."