Paul Collapses Again
Note: This is a DELETED scene which I had to remove when I changed the timeline of the story.
It takes place before MATTEO starts.
MATTEO
I’m scrolling through a fresh batch of security alerts from Knight Enterprises, remotely logged into the tech lab from my apartment. Server logs. Failed authentication attempts. Unusual network traffic. The same irritating anomalies that have been showing up for weeks.
Anomalies I need to get to the bottom of.
My phone rings, breaking my thoughts and I pick up distracted.
“You need to get to the hospital now.” Rio’s voice is deathly quiet
The hospital? I bolt upright and feel my stomach sink. “What? Why?” Fear freezes me. Is it Enzo, or the others?
“It’s the old man. He’s collapsed again. Get here quick.”
I relax.
The old man. My immediate fear and worry dissipate, but a dull ache still lingers.
I’m not sure if it’s guilt, or regret, or something else that mingles with the sad, fading memories of my early childhood.
This man is a constant thorn in my side, in all our sides. But now he’s ill, and not as indestructible as he’s made us believe.
He’s just an old man with severe kidney problems. A mere mortal, just like the rest of us.
I’ll hate myself in years to come for having these thoughts about him, but he is a difficult man to love. And respect. And want to care for.
I get up slowly, not wanting to rush, but again, guilt, or regret, or some other hidden trauma burrows deep into my skin and propels me to get to the hospital.
By the time I get there, everyone’s here. Everyone except for Zach. He and Maya are on vacation.
The old man lies, eyes closed, looking weak, and sickly. The permanent smugness on his face is gone, mostly, and is replaced by weakness. I realize now that I’ve been witnessing his decline in slow motion for months, but each time I start to feel a modicum of sympathy for him, he goes and says or does something typical of him again.
Something malicious. Or condescending.
Something that is typically him.
This illness hasn’t changed his personality one bit.
The body is falling apart, but his mind and tongue? Still as sharp as ever.
We’ve all noticed how he’s a little slower, a little frailer. How his face isn’t as smooth, or his eyes as bright.
Jett stands near the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. Dex paces around while Rio leans against the wall, eyes twinkling, yet watchful. Enzo is seated, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, like he’s thinking too much.
It’s deathly quiet. That’s not a good sign.
“What happened?” I ask.
Dex drags a hand through his hair. “He collapsed this morning. It’s his kidneys.”
I go still. “How bad?”
“We’re waiting for the doctor,” Jett informs me.
Enzo speaks up. “He collapsed again, allegedly, and was found by one of his staff.”
“I thought he was on meds? I thought he was being monitored?” I snap, then startle at the way they all look at me. “I just thought he was taking his medication,” I say, softer this time.
He has the best at home care that money can buy.
“As if he listens,” Dex says, wearily.
“Emanuel told us that he gives him his meds, at least he tries to, but the old man is adamant he doesn’t need to take so many, or as often …” Rio’s voice trails off.
Dex shrugs. “Emanuel should restrain him and shove them in his mouth.”
“The guy wants to keep his job,” Enzo reminds us.
“Our father will do whatever the hell he wants. He hasn’t watched his diet or controlled his drinking, and he’s still working.” Jett’s gaze goes over to the bed. “Oh, you’re up. Just listening to us while pretending to be asleep,” he says.
The old man’s eyes are now wide open. “I was having a rest.”
“You’re not helping yourself,” I tell him, taking a step towards the bed, but still having enough space between us.
I note that all of us are gathered at a distance from him.
“I’ll be fine,” he replies, an edge of irritation to his voice.
The door opens just then and we all turn to see a doctor step inside, wearing a stethoscope around her neck.
Her expression is somber.
“Are you Mr. Knight’s sons?” she asks.
We all stare at her, speechless.
“Yes,” Jett answers.
“Ah, Paul, you’re awake.” She walks towards him. “How are you feeling?”
“Ready to go home,” the old man replies.
The doctor nods, looking at him like she knows exactly how to deal with him. “You’re not ready to go home just yet.” She surveys us all. “I’m Dr. Saran and I head the renal team looking after your father. It’s good that you’re all here, because you need to know this.” She turns to him. “Paul, your condition has worsened significantly. Your kidney function has declined faster than expected. We’ve stabilized you for now, but—”
She pauses, looking at us all in turn. Getting ready to drop a bombshell. She turns to him again.
“Your kidney disease has progressed to end-stage renal failure and medication isn’t enough anymore.” She pauses as this news sinks into all of us.
“We need to prepare for a transplant immediately,” she continues. “If your kidney function deteriorates further before a donor is found, we’ll have to start dialysis.”
A deathly silence falls, then I hear collective exhales, like the shock has hit us all at the same time.
“Nonsense!” The old man waves his hand dismissively. “I don’t feel so bad now.”
“That’s because we’ve spent the last several hours treating you,” Dr. Saran says calmly.
The old man opens his mouth to argue, but the doctor continues before he can.
“The fact that you’re feeling better doesn’t mean your kidneys are functioning better. It means we’ve stabilized you.”
The old man shakes his head. “Semantics.”
“No, Paul. Medicine.”
“What does that mean?” Dex asks, voice tight.
“It means dialysis can support your father temporarily.” She pauses, letting her words sink in, “but it’s not a long-term solution.” Another measured pause follows, another glance at us.
“The best option is a transplant.”
We all glance at one another. Frozen on the spot.
Jett’s face hardens. Dex lets out a short breath, almost a laugh, but there’s no humor in it.
“Would you start with family?” Enzo asks quietly.
The doctor nods. “Yes. Immediate family members are typically tested first. Siblings, children. You’re more likely to be compatible.”
Hell. It makes sense, but. Hell no.
“We’ll need to run blood tests to determine compatibility,” the doctor continues. “It’s voluntary, of course. No one is obligated, but time is a factor.”
I like that no one is obligated. I hate that time is a factor. It means we’ll have to act soon.
“You mean one of us has to give a kidney?” Dex asks, his face a picture of disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
The doctor blinks. “I’m not, I’m afraid. This is serious.”
“We all have two kidneys.” Trust Enzo to state the obvious. I wonder if he’s the new heir to the throne of the old man’s favorite son now that Zach has dropped out. Rio stares at the floor in silence. Dex’s eyes are closed and he’s leaning back against the wall, his hands in his pockets.
“How long exactly do we have, to find a kidney?” Enzo asks. “How urgent is this?”
“It’s impossible to give an exact timeline. It could be months. It could be less. The important thing is that we start testing immediately.”
“How long does that take?” Enzo asks.
“Initial blood work can be done today–”
“Today?” Rio’s eyes pop wide open.
Jett coughs.
“If we identify potential matches, further testing can take several weeks,” the doctor says.
The mood is somber, marked by the cold, hard fact that no one has stepped forward enthusiastically. No one has said “yes.”
The doctor studies us for a moment. “I’ll give you some time to discuss.”
She leaves.
“Well,” Dex mutters, pushing off the wall. “That’s convenient.”
“No one’s asking you to do anything,” Jett snaps.
“You heard her, didn’t you?” Dex cries, throwing his hands up in the air.
“Don’t feel obligated.” Jett seems torn.
“How can we not feel fucking obligated?” Dex growls.
“Father is awake,” Enzo says firmly.
The old man chuckles. “This is most amusing, hearing you all at each other’s throats.”
Jett sighs with irritation. “You can walk away,” he tells Dex. Then to the old man. “Only you would love us not getting on. You’ve spent our lives making sure there was always division.” He walks towards the bed, bends down, his face level with the old man’s. “Didn’t work.”
“Also, you shouldn’t celebrate that we’re not so keen to give up one of our kidneys for you.”
“If this were Mama, she’d have three to pick from,” says Dex.
At the mention of Mama, the old man’s expression turns serious.
“Isabella …” he murmurs softly. “How is she?”
Rio’s eyes dance with amusement. “Living her best life.”
“We need time to think about this,” Enzo says quietly. “We don’t need to have this conversation here, and now.”
He looks at the old man, but the old man is looking at me.
“Matteo? You’ve been quiet,” he says.
“I’ve been thinking about the tech issues at work. You know, the ones you’ve been on at me about, despite me telling you we’re looking into them.”
That was long. And it was a lie.
The tech issues are on my mind, but they weren’t what I was thinking about. I was thinking how it feels like we’re in a surreal timeline. I’ve never thought of our father as being weak. I think I can vouch for the others. He’s always been a superhuman monster. A cold, calculating and manipulative man who has presided over our lives and guided us to run parts of his empire. I never thought of him not being here. I guess none of us have, and now to be suddenly faced with the reality that he is weak, and ill, and could die, is sobering.
To think that the man who disrupted all our lives, whose reckless and selfish actions had consequences that altered the trajectories of all our lives … now needs a kidney to survive.
And we could be the ones to save him.
The muscles in my neck suddenly feel tight.
“Then you should be at the tech lab, working on that,” the old man says.
“Couldn’t agree more.” I walk towards the door.
Enzo looks puzzled. “You’re leaving already?”
“You said we don’t need to have this conversation now,” I reply, turning around. “Besides, you heard him. I have work to do.”
“How about we all get together at my place when Zach and Maya get back? Steak and fries,” Rio offers.
“Yeah.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’m in.”
“Works for me,” I say.
The old man has heard this, but no one invites him.
“We’ll … uh … we’ll let you know,” Jett says, throwing a glance towards the bed. “About the … uh … testing.”
I’ve never heard him bumble so much.
“I can bring you some steak here,” Rio offers the old man. “Though I doubt they’d let you have any.”
The old man shifts in his bed. “I don’t need your steak.”
“No?” Rio lifts a shoulder. “Cool. At least I asked. Gotta go. Raquel’s waiting.”
One by one we all leave. When I turn and look over my shoulder, Enzo is the last one out.
He’s not like Zach. He doesn’t adore the old man, or feel any sort of loyalty towards him the way Zach used to do, but Enzo is always the diplomat. Always trying to make things better.
I point my car keys at Rio. “Steak sounds good, when Zach’s back.”
We all pile into the elevator, and everyone seems to let out an exhale.
Nobody talks about the transplant.
Or the old man.
Or getting tested.
Nobody brings up the fact that the old man could die.
Dex talks about how he could do with a steak right now, then he and Rio argue for a few floors about whether medium-rare is the only acceptable way to cook at steak.
Enzo claims that’s objectively false.
Jett is checking his cell phone.
I’m wondering whether to quit looking through the logs and maybe just hit the gym and sauna.
Then someone laughs.
It’s the first time all day, and the atmosphere loosens.
By the time the doors glide open, we’re all grinning, and joking.
And we’re all looking forward to having dinner together when Zach and Maya get back.
Extended Epilogue: Elizabeth Hosts a Tea Party
MATTEO
I don’t know whether to cry, or hug them.
Arthur and Irene have brought me gifts.
Irene has just given me a knitted blanket. It’s pink, fluffy and soft, and looks like it would cover half my body, but I hug it to my chest, a flood of gratitude enveloping me.
Arthur shrugs, giving me an apologetic look. “I know pink isn’t your color.”
I laugh.
“I want you to have it. I’ve kept it for you a long time,” Irene tells me, watching me with a huge smile on her face as I hold it up to me.
Over in the kitchen, Elizabeth is watching me, an even bigger smile on her face. Then she’s off again, scurrying around, like she has been all morning. Telling me to stay out of the kitchen and to leave her alone.
“Thank you, Irene.” I wrap my arms around her tender frame and hold her gently. It’s awkward, bending over, and with her sitting down on the sofa, makes it doubly awkward, but I appreciate this so much.
I wince when I straighten up again.
“Careful, son.” Arthur puts his hand out as if he’s about to comfort me. I press a hand against my side.
“I’m okay,” I tell him.
“You take it easy now,” he says, watching me carefully.
I start to fold the blanket neatly. “I have been. Nurse Raven over there has been taking the best care of me.” I jerk my chin towards Elizabeth.
“Hush,” she says, waving her hand dismissively. “Won’t be long now.”
“I think Tillie might like it.” Irene watches me holding the neatly folded blanket.
“What’s that?” I ask, wincing with pain again. It seems to come and go, but it’s mostly better now.
“The blanket,” Elizabeth and Arthur say at the same time. Elizabeth gives me a knowing look.
I nod. Because I know. I know that Irene thinks I’m her son, in this instant. I know she will wander in and out of realizing it’s me, and then floating back into another place in time where she thinks her son is here.
“I love it, Irene,” I tell her, “and I know Tillie will love this, too.” I place it neatly on Elizabeth’s coffee table.
She gives me a gentle smile, as if this pleases her.
“We thought you might like this.” Arthur hands me over what looks like a photo frame. I thank him instantly as I take hold of it. Whatever it is, I know I’m going to like it, because Arthur and Irene went to the trouble of getting me gifts when they didn’t need to.
But when I turn the frame around, the air leaves my lungs. My body folds in on itself, and I swallow, fighting to stay calm.
It’s a photo of me and Elizabeth, in the hospital, when I was recovering, and she was by my side. She’s sitting in that hospital chair beside me, the one she never left, leaning towards me. It’s a magical moment in which we’re both staring at one another. A happy, beautiful timeless moment in time that Arthur, somehow, miraculously captured,
“I …” I swallow again, because … I’m so happy I could hug Arthur so tightly. He’s given me something priceless. “Arthur … this is precious …” My voice is raspy, and Elizabeth immediately flies to my side.
“Babe look—” I start to say just as Elizabeth grabs the frame and stares at it. Her eyes fill with tears and she looks at me, then Arthur, then Irene. “This is beautiful.”
Arthur chuckles. “I’m glad you like it. You two remind me of how Irene and I were when we were young. Eyes just for one another.”
“But how did you take this?” I ask him.
Arthur raises an eyebrow. “I know how to take photos on my phone, young man. I’m not ready for the scrap heap yet.”
“Arthur. It’s beautiful.” Elizabeth throws her arms around his neck. “I love it.”
“You’ve spent so long looking after everyone else, kiddo. It’s nice to see that you both got one another’s backs. I know this young man would be there for you in a heartbeat. I caught a moment, as soon as we walked in that day.”
“Thank you,” I say again, then take the photo frame from Elizabeth and set it down on the coffee table, next to the blanket.
This isn’t the first gift bag I’ve had. My brothers have spoiled me ever since I came home from the hospital, about five days after the operation. It’s been over a month now, and I’m starting to get back into my usual daily routine. Without the gym or exercise of any kind, for now.
Thankfully, sex is still allowed. Slow and gentle. Elizabeth has been taking real good care of me …
I’m going back to the office next week, though I’ve been doing stuff from home. Interviewing for Alex’s replacement. He’s consulting remotely these days and apart from a Get Well Soon card from him, I’ve had no contact with him.
With regards to the interviewing, I’m down to a shortlist of two men and one woman, for the job. I guess I’ll have my second in command soon enough.
The old man’s recovery is slower. Much slower. He’s old and frail, and chronically ill, but he’s got the best doctors taking care of him.
Mama is still here.
She refuses to stay with any of her sons, and says she doesn’t want to get in the way. Says she needs her own space. Rio has rented her an apartment just across the street from us. We go over to Mama’s place most evenings because she insists on cooking for us. Says she missed cooking for her boys.
She’s invited Jett, Dex and Zach over a couple of times, with their partners, and Brooke. It was a bit awkward, the first time, but now … it’s fine.
Strange how life turns out sometimes.
And still, the old man is absent. Mama went to see him a few days after she came to see me. It was a short visit, because she returned to my side a short while after. The old man was in the room next door, so it was easy enough for me to time her visit to him.
Rio, Enzo and I talked about it later when they came to see me in the hospital. We joked about it and said we’d have given anything to be a fly on the wall at that visit.
Mama didn’t talk about it. She just said that he was ill, and he looked it.
“I hope you’re all hungry,” says Elizabeth, coming over to help Irene up. She’s been fussing and busying herself with baking all morning. She shooed me out of the kitchen, and wouldn’t let me help at all.
She’s been taking real good care of me. Won’t let me lift a finger. She gave me a care package, too. Inside the giftbag was a bottle of massage oil, a pair of ridiculously fluffy socks, snacks, and a nurse’s uniform. She says she’ll put it on for me when I’m one hundred percent better.
“Come on, son.” Arthur waits for me to follow the ladies.
“After you, Arthur.” I gesture for him to go ahead.
The table is covered with an assortment of cakes and muffins, and sandwiches with different fillings. A teapot that I’ve never seen before, and dainty teacups and saucers. I have no idea where or when Elizabeth bought these things. The cakes are on a cake stand.
It’s … stunning.
All this effort.
There’s even a tablecloth, I now realize.
Something tightens in my chest. She poured her heart and soul into this.
“Babe, you really went all out on this,” I murmur, going up to her and putting my arm around her.
“Like it?” she asks, eyes big and oozing with happiness.
I marvel at the delicious feast before us. “The Plaza has nothing on this. You outdid yourself.” I kiss the top of her head.
We all sit down, but Elizabeth is still standing, looking over at us, and the food on the table. She’s been mother-henning us all and now her eyes move from Arthur to Irene, and then to me.
I nod in understanding.
This isn’t about the cakes or sandwiches.
It’s about us.
Family.
The people she loves gathered around one table; safe, happy and together.
That’s what she’s really celebrating.
We may not be connected by blood, but we are a family. And family isn’t always the people who raise you. Sometimes it’s the people who stay, and who are there for you when you need them.
“Come on, babe.” I hold out my hand to her. She intertwines her fingers in mine and sits beside me, looking at me like I’m her world.
What she doesn’t know is that she’s mine.