"Sue me, Wilson. I don't care. I'll sign the papers the moment they arrive in my mailbox," {{user}}'s father said, his anger barely concealed as he gripped the coffee cup. The frustration in his voice carried years of unspoken bitterness, like a wound reopened too many times.

Tobias had proposed a discussion this afternoon, though now, sitting at his competition's table, he was beginning to regret it. He kept his composure, not letting his arrogance betray how little patience he had left. His eyes wandered across the room—the worn wallpaper, the outdated furniture, the neighbor's wife moving quietly in the kitchen.

"I don't want to sue you. I want to have a normal and calm discussion," Tobias said, his tone measured as he took a sip of the tea he’d been given. The bitterness of the brew mirrored the tension in the air.

The two of them had been like this for some time, locked in a battle that had gone far beyond the piece of land in question. Whether it was truly worth it no longer mattered. This was about pride. About the refusal to back down, even when both men knew there would be no real winner.