She Posted Him, I Posted My Worth - Chapter 1: Chapter 1

May 1st—the day of my surgery—was supposed to be the day Ethan Brooks proved he cared. Instead, he bailed last minute, claiming he had to attend his grandfather's funeral.
But life has a funny way of exposing lies.
After the operation, I scrolled through our school group chat and froze. There it was—a photo of Ethan, arms wrapped around Lily Summers, some doe-eyed girl from our class. The caption?
"Happiness is having someone who's always there when you're sick or down."
The irony was almost poetic.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for me to explode. Even Ethan's mom swooped in with damage control: "He lied because he didn't want you to stress. They're just childhood friends—nothing more."
I smiled. At this point, they might as well get married and stop wasting everyone's time.
Fifteen days later, as I signed my discharge papers in a wheelchair, Ethan finally showed up—roses in hand, apology on his lips.
Classic Ethan.
I used to love him. I used to fear losing him. So I played along, swallowing every excuse, every half-hearted "I'm sorry."
But not this time.
That night in the hospital, staring at the ceiling, I replayed the photo in my mind—Ethan's arms around Lily, her grin smug and satisfied. And it hit me:
Some love, no matter how desperately you water it, will never grow.
"Lily has depression," Ethan blurted as I wheeled past him, ignoring the roses. "She was hysterical—crying, throwing things—I had to—"
"Save it," I cut him off. I'd heard this script before.
Three months ago, he'd been too busy texting Lily to notice the red light. I shoved him out of the way and took the hit—two surgeries, steel plates in my legs.
And yet, when I'd asked for help once, he'd snapped, "Can't you do it yourself?"
But for Lily? He'd fake a funeral.
At home, I pushed open the door—only to find Lily in a nightgown, spatula in hand, beaming like she owned the place.
"You're back! Dinner's almost ready," she chirped, dabbing sweat off Ethan's forehead like a doting wife.
Ethan scrambled to explain: "Lily gets scared alone, so I—"
I didn't wait for the rest. Just wheeled past them, straight to the bedroom.
Behind me, Lily's voice dripped honey and guilt: "Ethan… is Emma mad at me again?"
"She'll get over it," he assured her.
I almost laughed.
I packed in silence. When I emerged with my suitcase, they were cozied up at the table.
Ethan's frown was almost comical. "What's this about?"
"I'm leaving."
"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed, blocking the door. "Lily's just staying temporarily. Nothing's going on."
"Good for you," I said. "But it's not my problem anymore."
Cue Lily's Oscar-worthy meltdown—collapsing, sobbing, "It's all my fault!"
Ethan rushed to her side, shooting me a look like I was the villain.
Pathetic.
Outside, the sun hit my face, and for the first time in months, I breathed.
My phone buzzed nonstop—the group chat exploding. Lily had posted a new photo: Ethan feeding her, captioned:
"Thank you, Ethan. I'd be lost without you. ♡"
His reply? "Just being a friend."
The comments rolled in: "Uh-oh, Emma's gonna lose it!" "Here comes the drama!"
I smirked and silenced my phone.
Let them wait.
This time, the show was over.