Page 177 of A Little Complicated

Her body wracks with sobs against his chest, but she barely makes a sound. I don’t miss the way her fingers fist into his shirt or how Jaxon squeezes his eyes shut as he takes the brunt of her pain, carrying it the only way he knows how.

“I don’t want to be here,” she cries. “I don’t want to—”

“Sh…” he whispers. Turning to Aunt Mia and Uncle Henry, he asks, “Do you want me to take her home? Or to another room? Or—”

“I don’t want to be here,” she repeats, refusing to lift her head from Jaxon’s chest as her agony soaks the fabric of his shirt.

“We’ll be…somewhere,” Jaxon offers. “I’ll keep my phone on me.”

“Okay.” Mia gives him a watery nod but doesn’t let go of Archer’s broken hand on the bed.

“Love you, brother,” Jaxon adds. I’m not sure if he’s talking to Archer or Maverick. Then again, I’m not sure if it matters. We’re all family here. And we’ll all grieve long after this.

Honestly, I don’t know if I'll ever stop.

A throat clears behind us, and we turn around, my heart lodging in my esophagus. When Dr. Scott steps into the room, my brows dip in concern.

His expression is more somber than I’ve ever seen as he watches us from the doorway.

When none of us say anything, Dr. Scott murmurs, “I’m so sorry.”

Mia climbs to her feet, and Henry pulls her back to his front, but neither replies, their faces red and swollen, their breathing staggered and unsteady.

Dr. Scott’s eyes are hazy, and he clears his throat again. “Are you aware your son is an organ donor?”

Mia and Henry exchange confused looks. “I, uh,” Aunt Mia shakes her head. “Y-yes. I believe he was.”

“It’s standard procedure to run some tests when someone is officially declared brain-dead if they volunteered to be a donor so we can begin searching for matches.”

Henry’s hands slide up and down Mia’s bare arms soothingly. “Yes, that makes sense. That’s, uh, that’s good.”

“It is,” Dr. Scott agrees. His attention shifts to Maverick, and he lets out a soft sigh. “The good news is, we’ve been able to match him with quite a few people, and he’s going to save several lives.”

“That’s good.” Aunt Mia wipes the corner of her eyes, no matter how pointless it is, as the tears continue falling.

“It is,” Dr. Scott repeats. He clears his throat again, like the words are caught there as he looks at Maverick again. “I’m so sorry, Maverick.”

Mav nods but doesn’t say anything else.

“Listen,” he continues, “I’ve never had to do this, but…”

“What is it?” Uncle Henry demands.

Dr. Scott removes his glasses and rubs his eyes, looking exhausted. “Maverick, we, uh, we found a heart for you.”

A heart?

They found a heart?

I look back at Archer’s lifeless body. The truth slams into me, and I cover my mouth with my hand.

No.

No, no, no, no.

The blood drains from Maverick’s expression, and he shakes his head, voicing my thoughts aloud. “No.”

“Maverick, he’s a perfect match,” Dr. Scott explains.

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