She Posted Him, I Posted My Worth - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Ethan stood frozen, his face burning with embarrassment as if he'd been caught reliving some cringe-worthy memory.
It was all too familiar—another scene straight out of Lily's playbook.
Like that time at dinner when she'd "accidentally" tripped over her own feet while carrying a dish, then shot me that wounded puppy look.
Of course, Ethan had immediately assumed I'd stuck my foot out to sabotage her.
I tried to explain, but he wasn't interested in hearing it.
"If you've got nothing else to say, just leave," I snapped, crossing my arms.
"Ethan!" A shrill voice cut through the air.
His face went pale. Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and dragged me away, not stopping until we reached a quiet corner of the park.
I yanked my arm free. "What's your problem? I didn't come looking for you!"
"Sorry," he muttered, his eyes flickering with something like regret.
"Since we're here, let's walk. This place reminds me of the park near our old school."
His voice softened. "Remember how we used to hold hands and talk about everything? The good, the bad—just us."
He gazed at the sunset, lost in nostalgia.
But those days were long gone.
I used to love those walks—the crisp air, the quiet moments between us.
Then Lily started tagging along. She'd sneak up behind him, wrap her arms around his waist, and coo his name like some lovesick puppy. And Ethan? He'd just laugh, indulging her while I faded into the background.
I brought it up once. He called me jealous.
Back then, I actually believed him—thought I was the one being unreasonable. So I stopped joining them.
Now, standing here, it hit me: I was never the main character in their story.
"Emma." Ethan turned to me, suddenly earnest. "We can start over."
Right on cue, his phone buzzed—incessantly.
Lily.
Every. Single. Time.
Whether it was a "broken" lightbulb or a "spider emergency," she always had some excuse to pull him away.
And sure enough, when he checked his screen, there she was.
"Ethan!" Her voice oozed fake panic through the speaker. "There's a cockroach in my apartment! I'm freaking out—can you come over?"
I almost laughed. Classic Lily.
At first, I'd bought her act—thought she had some deep-seated phobia.
Then, one night after too many drinks, she'd smirked at me and slurred, "You'll never win. All I have to do is play damsel in distress, and he'll drop you like a bad habit."
The worst part? She was right.
Even when I told Ethan what she'd said, he accused me of twisting her words.
Now, history was repeating itself. Any second, he'd ditch me—again—to go play hero for her.