Page 207 of Matteo

Matteo flips them off.

They acknowledge me with smiles and nods before immediately descending on Matteo like a flock of vultures. The flowers are dumped at the end of the bed, and the balloons are tied to a chair. Someone shoves a coffee into my hand. Another brings in extra chairs from goodness knows where.

Within seconds, the room feels completely different. The silence disappears beneath overlapping conversations, insults, laughter, and arguments. The hospital suite seems too small to house all these men.

It no longer feels like a hospital room, more like a family gathering.

It's loud, larger than life and overwhelming.

And I love it.

I love it with all my heart.

“The girls wanted to come, but ... they'll come at the weekend,” explains Jett. “You look like shit,” he says, again.

Matteo grins and flips him off, again.

“At least the personality survived,” Dex says, pulling out a bottle of whiskey, unopened, and setting it to one side, maybe for later. If it doesn’t get confiscated first. Something tells me they’ll be able to do whatever they want.

“What the hell is that for?” Matteo coughs, then winces in pain. They all quieten.

“You okay, dude?” Rio asks, reaching for him.

Dex turns pale.

“He’s okay,” I reassure them. “It hurts to cough and laugh or sneeze.”

Relief ripples through the room. They thank me for staying with Matteo, for looking after him.

Something warm and soft spreads through me. I've never had a big family. Never had brothers barging through doors carrying flowers and coffee and ridiculous balloons. Somehow, these Knight boys have made space for me, too, and the sense of belonging leaves me feeling insanely grateful and blessed.

The room fills again with enough noise and commotion that I’m worried someone will come in and tell us to be quiet. Also, isn’t there a limit on the number of visitors a patient can have?

Probably not with the Knights.

It's so noisy. I step back, and leave them to it. It starts to sound like the inside of a bar on a Saturday night, not a hospital room.

A nurse walks in, sees the commotion, sees all the guys around Matteo's bed, then shakes her head and walks back out.

Dex rubs his hands together and looks around. “Can we all note that Matteo’s finally giving something away for free?”

Matteo shakes his head.

Unperturbed, Dex continues, “The old man gets your kidney, and now you’re going to be his favorite. Sorry Zach.”

Zach shrugs. “Happy to let Matteo wear that crown.”

“At least now you can win every argument with him,” says Enzo. “You can officially use ‘I gave him a kidney’ each time.”

I smile to myself as I watch them. All these men. All this noise and love. All this warmth and belonging.

This is the meaning of family.

Matteo never talks much about it, but looking around this hospital room, I finally understand that he himself is seeing a new way of talking about it.

He’s done something that is noble and honorable, by giving his kidney to a man who doesn't really deserve it, and every one of his brothers knows exactly what that cost him.

The door opens again, and this time I blink, because it's not a doctor or a nurse. It’s a woman. She’s small, yet elegantly dressed, in a simple navy dress beneath a cream woolen coat. Dark hair streaked with silver and swept back from her face.