Page 166 of A Little Complicated

Tell them.

Sensing how close I am to breaking, Maverick tilts his head. “Lia, I’m fine.”

“Maverick.” His name is a plea as our eyes stay locked in silent battle.

“Lia,” he returns, the same lilt in his voice as mine. He sits up further in his hospital bed.

“What’s going on?” Archer demands.

“Nothing,” Maverick says while I repeat his name at the same time. “Maverick.”

“Say something,” Archer demands. “Someone—”

“He has HCM,” I blurt out.

Maverick’s expression falls, and his head hits the pillow behind him.

Guilt blooms inside me, but I force it away and reach for Maverick’s limp hand on the edge of the bed. When he lets me touch him, some of my anxiety eases, and I sit next to his hip, ignoring his family surrounding us and lookingveryconfused.

“I told you I wouldn’t lie for you,” I remind him. “And I’m not going to. Not after today. They deserve to know.”

“Know what?” Aunt Mia asks.

Maverick’s jaw tics, and he winces, the stitches in his chin tugging. “I have a rare heart disease. It’s called HCM. Long story short, my heart is shit, and it’s gonna give out sooner rather than later. I’m seeing the best doctor, but there’s no cure. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to look at me differently, and that’s about it.”

Aunt Mia covers her mouth with a gasp. She collapses against him and pulls him into a hug. I blink back tears and push to my feet, making my way to the hallway so he can have some privacy with his family, who I have no doubt are reeling from the news. I don’t blame them. I’m still reeling.

I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have blurted it out. But if I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have told them. They would’ve continued thinking he passed out from dehydration or some other bullshit excuse he could come up with.

“Hello,” a doctor greets me. Or at least, I assume he’s a doctor. He’s wearing a white lab coat and blue scrubs.

Feeling awkward, I curl in on myself and wipe beneath my eyes. “Um, hi?”

“Hi,” he repeats. “Do you think they’d mind if I…?” His voice trails off, and he tilts his head toward the open doorway leading to Maverick’s room and his crying family.

I peek into the room, lifting one shoulder. “Oh, I–I dunno. They just found out some pretty”—I sniff—“some pretty crappy news, so…”

“He finally told them, I take it?” the doctor offers.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, who are you?” I ask.

“Are you Maverick’s family?”

I nod. “Uh, yes. No. I-I’m Maverick’s…”

“Ah, I see.” His eyes gleam with understanding. “Well, come in. I’m sure he’d like you to be included in the update as well.” With a soft touch against my upper back, the doctor corrals me into the hospital room, announcing, “Knock, knock.”

Everyone’s heads snap in our direction as the doctor steals some sanitizer from the dispenser beside the light switch.

“I found a stray in the hallway. I hope you don’t mind if she joins us,” he adds.

“Not at all, Doc,” Maverick mutters.

The doctor’s mouth lifts. “Good to see you, too, Maverick.” He turns to Aunt Mia and Uncle Henry. “Hello, I’m Dr. Scott. Nice to meet you.”

They take turns shaking his hand. Once the pleasantries conclude, his bushy brows lift at Maverick. “Do I need to clear the room so we can discuss everything going on, or…?”

“They know,” Maverick grunts. He doesn’t look too happy about it.

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