There was plenty of bad in Matteo, in every Made Man really, but I’d come to realize that there was in me as well. Maybe not as much, but it was there. It was in all of us. I’d tried to become someone else, some kind of ideal I’d thought I needed to be, but that had never been me and never would. Matteo had held up a mirror to my face and showed me who I really was and where I belonged. I’d hated it, had fought it tooth and nail, but it was time to be brave.
