There's a trick you will often need when writing, or communicating in almost any format. Anything could be misunderstood, or at least not understood. At what point do you let go and allow that? When do you step back and trust your audience?
Sooner or later, you may have to—almost certainly will have to—say to yourself, "If someone doesn't understand this, are they actually experienced or alert enough to understand the overall point, or the rest? I am writing for—talking to—someone with humanity's deep intelligence. That person will understand without my clarifying this detail, which would be a mistake and bog down the piece. And if the person is smart enough to criticize me harshly for the 'error' of leaving in this possibility of misinterpretation, but not aware enough to realize why, and that they too know the meaning without unnecessary clarification, then maybe that person is not in my audience."
I forget which famous writer recommended writing for intelligent but not over-discerning readers.* Write for people who will understand, and help them. Don't write for people who will understand but vindictively pinion you because they imagine you ought to have been more precise here for the sake of propriety, or their personal tastes, or so on. In short, I wouldn't worry too much about readers who'll con themselves into feeling better about themselves by caviling the moments in your work when you trust the intelligence and open-mindedness of your audience.
Ideally, everyone will understand, but you can't expect it. Let a few people misunderstand if they will insist.
*(Ah, it was Friedrich Nietzsche, as I remembered the next time I went into the Scrivener settings, where his quotation stands as an example for trying out formatting options: "Good writers have two things in common: they prefer to be understood rather than admired; and they do not write for knowing and over-acute readers.")
(By knowing and over-acute, I think he means they know what you're saying, but they want to roast you for a lacuna or solecism.)
