Chapter 21 #2
“It's obviously something to do with his health, and the kidney situation,” Enzo replies. Easy for him to say, given that he failed on the blood match and it’s not his future health on the line anymore.
Jett takes a step closer to the window. “I've lost my appetite.”
“I was never hungry.” Zach glances at his cell phone for the tenth time.
I wish I could teleport myself back to the lab. Or be anywhere with Elizabeth.
“It’s just you guys now.” Dex grins at me and Zach like he finds this amusing.
I look at Zach. Zach looks at me.
“What about you, Jett?” I ask. Did he walk away? I already feel trapped, because something in my gut tells me that Zach isn’t going to go through with this. Which means, if Jett is out, I'll be left to deal with this shit alone.
You can always walk away.
He opens his mouth to say something but we hear behind us and our father walks in, completely unaided, though a male nurse hovers around him.
Seeing him come out, walking slower than we're used to, looking more tired than ever, takes some getting used to, because this is something we've never seen before.
I press my lips together to suppress a shocked gasp.
He really does look like shit. Not the powerful, terrifying man we're used to. Not the man who fills a room and silences everywhere just by his appearance. This man looks smaller. Older. Tired and haggard. A shadow of his former self. I wonder if maybe, now that he realizes that he could die, he’s finally finding a heart and a soul.
I still don't completely believe that, though, but I understand now why we've not seen him in the office recently. He’s taken to working mostly from home, but none of us, as far as I'm aware, have checked in on him.
Not even Zach.
He lowers himself into a chair. “I can do it, Emanuel.” He raises his hand, to ward off his nurse or manservant or help. I have no idea who this man is and the way each of us look around, neither does anyone else.
“Are you ... okay?” Jett asks, looking like he's about to help, albeit with much hesitation.
“Feeling a little weak these days, but hopefully this is just a glitch.” He sits back in his chair and looks up at us. This is a huge shock, because the difference in him, from when I last saw him when he came down to the lab, is shocking.
He surveys us all. “Thank you for coming so early and on the weekend. I appreciate it. Please sit.”
We obey, sitting down on oversized sofas. Jett takes an armchair. Dex walks over to the wet bar in the corner and pours himself a drink before sitting on the armchair near Jett.
“What is it that’s so important that it required getting us all together today?” Jett asks. “There's no need for brunch,” he adds.
We all immediately concur.
“I won't beat around the bush, then.” Our father clasps his hands together. “I understand that the donor testing is progressing. Zach is currently undergoing tissue typing, and Matteo has already passed that stage and is due to undergo crossmatch testing shortly.”
He looks directly at me.
“How do you know that?” I ask, surprised, though I really shouldn't be.
This man somehow knows everything.
“My doctor keeps me informed.”
I feel my anger rising already. “But he's not supposed to tell you this.”
“Well, he has,” the old man says calmly. “He knows the results. He keeps me updated on the process. You've all kindly had yourselves tested, and for that I thank you. I appreciate it.”
Nobody says anything because it really didn't feel like a choice. It felt like an obligation. Something we had no hand in.
And something I'm starting to regret.
I glance at Jett. “I thought you matched?”
He clears his throat. “Matched blood, but I failed tissue typing.”
Lucky bastard.
For once in his life, Jett failed a test and still managed to come out ahead.
“A kidney from family means considerably more than one from a donor list,” the old man continues. “At present, Matteo is the only compatible match identified. Zach's testing is still ongoing. Regardless, I appreciate both of your efforts.”
Zach's expression hardens. “I've never heard you appreciate anything before, and today you've used that word numerous times already.”
The room falls silent.
“It's only because your life is on the line,” he says.
The old man stares back at him, unperturbed. “I know what you all must be thinking,” he says quietly, looking tired and worn down.
“Do you?” Zach snaps. “Do you know what I’m thinking?”
“You’re upset. I understand your rage.”
Zach’s face twists. “I’m not sure you do.”
“You should’ve just sent a text.” Dex steps into the firestorm. “Or put it in a memo like you normally do. No reason for a Knight family brunch, lunch, dinner, breakfast, whatever.”
The old man doesn’t respond.
“Did you really need a whole family meeting for this? Since when do you start caring about family?” Zach snarls. The resentment that’s been festering under his skin is now erupting like molten lava.
The old man adjusts the cuffs of his shirt. Even on a weekend, at home with failing health, he’s still wearing a crisp white shirt.
Oddly, no fucking tie though. “I have provided for you all as best as I could,” he says.
“You are all set for life. Your children will want for nothing, neither will your grandchildren or their children. You have everything that money can buy. You can do anything, have anything, be anything. What I have given you is priceless.”
“Of course you would believe that,” Zach mutters, loud enough for us all to hear.
Surprisingly, no one else has anything else to say about this ludicrous statement, but if my brothers feel what I’m feeling inside, they’re probably seething.
My anger simmers dangerously beneath the surface, with old wounds and resentments bubbling close to the top.
“Why are we here?” Rio asks. “You already seem to know how things stand on the testing front. What more is there to discuss?”
The old man shakes his head. “No reason. I haven’t been in the office much lately. Haven’t seen any of you, and it's been a while since we all got together.”
I can't believe what I'm hearing, and judging by the looks on everyone's faces, neither can they. The silence engulfing us is heavy as we all realize that the old man is falling apart before our eyes. Not just physically, but emotionally.
Maybe his medication is messing with his heart, and dissolving that layer of steel it’s encased in. Maybe his brain is slowly turning to mush. Whatever it is, we don’t recognize this man. Since when does he get us together because he wants to see us?
It’s never been about us. For him it’s always been about the company, the next acquisition, the next merger, the next dollar.
He has so much and he’ll never be able to spend what he already has, not in a thousand lifetimes. He doesn’t understand what we are all now coming to realize; life is richer because of the people and the connections you have, because of the love and relationships you foster.
Sitting among us now, he suddenly looks so much older, and somehow smaller. And more human.
I feel a touch of guilt at the resentment I carry—because I might have to help him. Because despite everything he's done, despite every reason I've ever had to hate him, a small part of me doesn't want him to die.
I glance around the room. Nobody knows what to say. We've spent so many years being angry at him that none of us know how to handle his new vulnerability. And because of that, the pressure building inside my chest becomes harder to ignore.
Right now, I'm the only compatible donor they've identified. Zach's testing is still ongoing and I pray that he'll match, because I don't want this decision resting solely on my shoulders.
For the first time in my life, I'm thinking about kidneys, hospitals, surgery, and mortality. I'm having to face how quickly things can change and how fragile life is.
Jett sighs loudly and checks his watch. “I've got a meeting.” He stands up.
“On a Saturday, dude?” Rio’s eyebrows rise.
The excuse is paper thin.
“Some of us have to work, even on a Saturday, bud.”
A moment later Zach stands too. “I should get going.”
One by one, we all follow.
The old man sits quietly, saying nothing.
Nobody is angry. Nobody storms out.
It's just easier to leave than sit here and acknowledge what's happening. As I head for the elevator, I find myself reaching for my phone. For reasons I can't quite explain, the person I want to talk to right now isn't one of my brothers.
It's Elizabeth.