Zendaya

CHAPTER 1

Zendaya's POV 

I wheeled myself up the driveway of Derek's house, my heart pounding with an excitement I hadn't felt in three years. My fingers gripped the wheels of my chair tightly as I maneuvered toward the front door, imagining the look on his face when I told him the news. When I showed him that I could finally walk again.

Dr. Patterson's words still echoed in my mind. "You can walk, Zendaya. Your legs are strong enough now."

I'd stood in that hospital room, trembling but standing, and the first person I'd wanted to share this miracle with was Derek. My fiancé. The man who'd been by my side through these difficult years, who'd promised to love me no matter what.

Well, that's what I'd believed anyway.

The front door was unlocked, which wasn't unusual. Derek often left it open when he was home. I pushed it open and wheeled myself inside, calling out, "Derek? Baby, are you home?"

No response.

I frowned, moving further into the house. Maybe he was in his study. He often worked from home on Tuesdays. As I approached the study, I heard voices—Derek's voice, and another voice I recognized immediately.

Vanessa. My best friend.

I smiled, thinking how perfect this was. I could surprise both of them at once. But as I got closer, Derek's words stopped me cold.

"I can't keep doing this, Vanessa. She's becoming a burden. An embarrassment."

My hand froze on the wheel of my chair.

Who was he referring to?

"You've been saying that for months, Derek," Vanessa replied, her voice carrying that sultry tone I'd never noticed before. "When are you actually going to do something about it?"

"Soon," Derek said, and I could hear him pacing. "I just need to figure out the right time. The right way to do it without looking like the bad guy."

"You mean without losing access to her money," Vanessa corrected, and I heard her laugh. That laugh I'd heard a thousand times before, but never like this. Never so cruel.

"That too," Derek admitted without shame. "You were the one who told me she was supposed to inherit the company. That she was going to be the next heir. That's the only reason I stuck around after the accident. Do you know how humiliating it is to be seen with a cripple? My colleagues mock me behind my back."

The word hit me like a physical blow. Cripple. Said with such disgust, such contempt.

He was talking about me. There was ashy another cripple in his life. 

Oh God! This has to be a nightmare 

"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore," Vanessa said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Her brother Adrian got the position instead. The board probably couldn't stomach putting a disabled woman in charge. She's worthless to you now, Derek. You can finally be free."

"Thank God," Derek muttered. "I was starting to think I’d have spend the rest of my life with a damaged goods!”

"And now you can finally be with me instead," Vanessa added, her voice dropping to something intimate, something that made my stomach turn.

"Exactly," Derek said. "I'll give it another week, maybe two. Then I'll break it off. I'll make it seem like the strain was too much, like I tried my best but couldn't handle being with someone so... limited."

They both laughed at that. Laughed at me. At my pain. At my disability.

My hands trembled on the armrests of my wheelchair. Three years. Three years I'd been with Derek, believing he loved me, believing he was the one good thing that came out of that horrible accident. The accident he'd caused. The accident that had stolen my ability to walk because he'd been driving drunk and crashed his car with me in it.

And this whole time, he'd only stayed because Vanessa told him I was going to inherit my father's company. Because he thought I was his ticket to wealth and status.

"No more pretending I care about her sad little physiotherapy appointments," Derek added with disgust. "God, do you know how exhausting it is to act interested every time she comes home talking about some minor improvement? As if any of it matters when she's still stuck in that chair forever."

Something inside me shattered. Not my heart—that had already broken. Something deeper. Something that had been holding me back, keeping me docile, keeping me grateful for whatever scraps of affection he threw my way.

I'd spent three years blaming myself for the accident, for not being enough, for being a burden. I'd apologized to Derek more times than I could count for putting him through this, for making his life harder, for not being the woman he deserved.

And he'd been planning to leave me the moment he realized I wouldn't make him rich.

My hands stopped trembling. A cold, clear fury settled over me, sharper than any pain I'd felt in those three years of physiotherapy, stronger than any grief.

I wheeled myself forward, pushing open the study door.

Derek and Vanessa sprang apart. They'd been standing close. Too close. Vanessa's hand had been on Derek's chest, his arm around her waist.

"Zendaya!" Derek's face went pale. "I didn't—we weren't—"

"How could you?" My voice came out steady, cold. I barely recognized it as my own. "How could you betray me like this?"

"Baby, listen..." Derek started, taking a step toward me.

"Don't." I held up my hand. "Don't you dare call me that."

Vanessa had the audacity to look defensive rather than guilty. "Zendaya, this isn't what it looks like—"

"Really?" I cut her off, my eyes moving between them. "Because it looks like my fiancé and my best friend have been fucking each other behind my back. It looks like you both think I'm pathetic and worthless because I can't walk."

"That's not—" Derek tried, but the words died on his lips when he saw my expression. He realized it then. I had heard every single insults. 

"You caused this," I said quietly, gesturing to my wheelchair. "Your drunk driving put me in this chair. And I stayed with you anyway. I forgave you. I told myself that the accident wasn't your fault, that you were sorry, that you loved me enough to make up for it."

"I do love you," Derek started, but even he couldn't finish that lie.

"You were using me," I continued, my voice getting stronger. "Vanessa told you I was going to inherit the company, and you saw dollar signs. You stayed because you thought I'd make you rich."

Vanessa crossed her arms, her mask slipping. "Oh please, Zendaya. You can't be that surprised. Did you really think Derek would stay with you out of love? Look at yourself."

The cruelty in her voice, in her eyes—this woman I'd called my best friend since high school—it cut deeper than anything Derek had said.

"I trusted you," I said to Vanessa. "I told you everything. Every insecurity, every fear. And you used it all against me."

"I did you a favor," Vanessa shot back. "I told Derek about the inheritance because I thought he could make you happy. How was I supposed to know your family would choose your brother instead? That the board would pass over you?"

"Because I'm a cripple?" I asked, using Derek's word deliberately.

Derek had the decency to flinch. "I never meant—"

"Yes, you did," I interrupted. "You meant every word I heard. Every cruel, heartless word."

"What do you want me to say?" Derek's tone shifted, becoming defensive, almost aggressive. "That I'm sorry? Fine, I'm sorry. But you can't blame me for wanting more than this. More than a life spent taking care of someone who can't even walk."

Each word was designed to hurt, and they did. But they also clarified something for me.

I was done being the broken girl who needed fixing. Done being grateful for crumbs of affection from people who didn't deserve me.

"You're right," I said quietly, and both of them looked surprised. "You do deserve more. You deserve each other."

I looked up at them, my eyes burning with tears I refused to let fall. “I hope you have a good life. It's over between us, Derek. The engagement— everything!”

I turned my wheelchair around, heading for the door.

"Yo– you can't do that!,” he shifted behind me, but I refused to turn back.”Where are you going?" Derek called after me.

I didn't answer. I just kept moving, wheeling myself out of his house, out of his life.