Page 178 of A Little Complicated

“No,” Mav repeats. “No fucking way. Not a chance.”

“I know this is hard, but—”

“I’m not taking it,” he spits. “I don’t want it. I don’t—”

“Archer signed up to be a donor long before your diagnosis, Maverick,” Dr. Scott clarifies. “He wanted to help—”

“No,” Maverick booms. He lets my hand go and takes a step back, shoving his hands through his hair. “No. Not fucking possible.”

“He’s your identical twin,” Dr. Scott rasps. “But even then, it’s a miracle—”

“Don’t talk to me about fucking miracles.” Mav glares at him. His eyes are rimmed with red, and he looks absolutely wrecked. “My brother’s dead, and I’m supposed to what? Take his heart so I can live? No, I can’t.”

“If you don’t take it, his heart will go to the next person on the list,” Dr. Scott warns.

“Fine,” Maverick snaps, waving his hand around the hospital room like the last thread of his sanity has just been cut. “Do that.”

Aunt Mia scrambles to her feet. “Maverick—”

Dr. Scott lifts his hand and stops her from continuing. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but there’s a good possibility you won’t have another chance at this, Maverick. Your brother’s gone, but you’d be a fool to not accept his last gift.”

“Stop,” Maverick snaps. “Stop it. I don’t—” He rakes his hands through his hair, tugging at the roots as his face twists with despair. “I don’t want to hear this.”

Slipping his glasses back into place, Dr. Scott says, “Whether or not you want to hear this, your brother’s body is shutting down, and we will be harvesting the viable organs within the next hour. If you refuse to accept his heart, it will go to someone else, and I need to inform the next person on the list so they can prepare for their transplant.”

“Maverick,” Aunt Mia squeaks. She steps toward him and cradles his cheeks. “Your brother loves you more than anyone else on this earth.”

“Mom, don’t,” he begs. His eyes are wild. Like a cornered beast. One who can’t decide if he should lash out or run in the opposite direction and never stop. And I hate it. The look in his eyes. The fear. The repulsion. The raw vulnerability and absolute disgust shining through them.

“He loves you,” Mia repeats. “He’d want you to have it.”

Maverick shakes his head. “I can’t—”

“You have to, Maverick,” she begs. “You have to take it. I know this is difficult for you, but I can’t lose another son. I won’t survive it, do you hear me? Iwon’t.”

His defeat, his anguish, his fucking heart shattering…it’s all palpable. Swirling in the air and making me sick to my stomach as I watch one of the strongest men I’ve ever met break. Maverick closes his eyes and leans into her touch. “Mom.” His voice cracks, and my heart shatters with it.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he cries into his mom’s shoulder, and Henry steps closer, enveloping them in his warmth. I cover my mouth, attempting to contain the sobs shredding my throat while witnessing the man I love crumble into a million unfixable pieces.

The doctor stands beside me, looking as helpless as I feel. After a few moments, he murmurs, “I’ll come back for an answer shortly, but we need to make a decision as soon as possible.”

55

MAVERICK

I’m not sure how long my parents held me until everyone stepped outside so I could have a minute alone with Arch.

Honestly, it’s a minute I’m not sure I want to have. If I do, it’ll make this real. All of it. And I’ve never wanted to erase a situation more in my entire life.

My movements are almost mechanical as I force myself to move closer to the bed. It feels like a dream. All of this does. Hazy. Muddled. Unreal.

Why’d he have to get in the fucking car? Why’d he have to leave? Why’d he have to be on that road? Why’d it have to rain? Why’d the vehicle have to lose control? Why does he have to be a fucking match and make me feel like it’s him or me? Like fate had to choose. Like only one of us could be left breathing. And why is itme?

“Fuck you, brother,” I grit out, kneeling beside the edge of the bed. I grab his lifeless hand in mine and press my forehead to our entwined fingers like a prayer. “Fuck you for leaving me. For doing this.” My chest heaves. “Fuck you for dying on me.”

The reality crashes into me, stealing my breath and sitting on my sternum until my lungs threaten to give out, just like my heart.

“We’ve been through everything together,” I whisper. “Since birth, man. What am I gonna do? What about our birthday? What about Rory? And Lia? She fucking needs you, bro. I need you. Don’t do this,” I beg. “Come back. Don’t die on me. I’m fucking begging you, bro. Don’t die on me.”

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