Zendaya

Chapter 3

Zendaya’s pov

The rest of what happened was a blur. All I could remember was Adrian’s cold voice warning them to stay off me. With their curious eyes still watching us and their mouths to the floor, Adrian carried me in his arms to his car. 

An hour later, I sat in Adrian's living room, my wheelchair positioned near the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. My brother handed me a cup of tea, his expression tight with concern as he settled onto the couch across from me.

"Tell me everything," he said quietly.

And I did. The words came pouring out between sobs I couldn't control—how I'd gone to Derek's house excited to see him, how I'd overheard him with Vanessa, every cruel word they'd said about me. About how I was a burden, an embarrassment, a cripple not worth loving.

"He only stayed because Vanessa told him I was going to inherit Dad's company," I choked out, wiping at my tears with the back of my hand. "He thought I'd make him rich. And when he found out you got the position instead, he was planning to leave me. He called me worthless, Adrian. Worthless."

My brother's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists on his knees. I'd seen Adrian angry before, but never like this. Never with this cold, controlled fury that made his eyes darken.

"I'm going to kill him," Adrian said flatly.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "He's not worth it. Neither of them are."

"Zendaya—"

"I mean it," I interrupted, my voice firmer despite the tears still streaming down my face. "They're not worth your career, your freedom, or your time. I just... I need to move on. I need to forget about him."

Adrian leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his expression softening slightly as he looked at me. "You deserve so much better than him. I never liked Derek, you know. There was always something off about him. The way he looked at you, the way he talked about your accident—it never felt genuine."

"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked.

"Would you have listened?" Adrian countered gently.

I thought about that. Would I have? Probably not. I'd been so desperate to believe that someone could love me despite my disability, so grateful that Derek had stayed after the accident, that I wouldn't have heard anything negative about him.

"No," I admitted quietly. "I wouldn't have."

"I know," Adrian said. "That's why I kept my mouth shut. I hoped I was wrong about him. I hoped he'd prove me wrong." He paused, his expression growing more serious. "But Zendaya, we need to talk about what you said in your text. About taking back your position."

I straightened in my wheelchair, wiping the last of my tears away. "I'm ready, Adrian. I know I walked away from it before. I know I asked you to take over temporarily while I focused on Derek and the wedding, but—"

"You didn't just walk away," Adrian interrupted, his voice carrying a note of frustration I rarely heard from him. "You abandoned your responsibilities. Dad groomed you from the time you were sixteen to take over the company. You were the next heir. Everyone knew it. The board knew it. And then after Dad died and the accident happened, you just... gave up."

His words stung, but I couldn't argue with them. They were true.

"You begged me to step in," Adrian continued, his voice rising slightly. "You said you needed time to focus on your recovery, on your relationship with Derek. You said you weren't ready for the pressure of being CEO. Do you remember what you told me?"

I looked down at my hands, shame washing over me. "I told you I wanted to get married first. That I didn't want to tell Derek about how I was the true heiress because I was scared he would look weak. Make him feel inferior."

"Exactly," Adrian said, standing up and pacing across the room. "You were worried about his ego. About making him feel small. So you asked me to take over temporarily. Just until the wedding, you said. Just until you felt ready."

"Adrian, I'm sorry..."

"I'm not finished," he cut me off, turning to face me. "I put my life on hold for you, Zendaya. I had my acceptance letter to Johns Hopkins Medical School. Full scholarship. I was supposed to start three years ago. That was my dream, to be a doctor. Ever since Mom died and I watched those doctors try to save her, that's all I've ever wanted."

The guilt hit me like a physical blow. I'd known Adrian wanted to be a doctor. I'd known he'd delayed it to take over the company. But hearing the pain in his voice now, seeing the sacrifice laid out so clearly, made me realize just how selfish I'd been.

Tears streamed down my face again, but these were different from before. These weren't tears of heartbreak over Derek. These were tears of shame, of regret, of understanding just how much my brother had sacrificed for my selfishness.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "Adrian, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize—I didn't think—"

"You didn't think," Adrian agreed, but his voice had lost its edge. He walked back over and knelt in front of my wheelchair, taking my hands in his. "You were hurt and scared and in love, and you made a choice. I don't blame you for that, Zendaya. But now Derek has betrayed you. He's shown you who he really is. And you're ready to come back."

I nodded, squeezing his hands. "I am. I'm ready to take back what's mine. To do what Dad trained me to do."

"Good," Adrian said, a small smile finally crossing his face. "Because I'm ready to pursue my dream. Johns Hopkins said my spot would be held for up to five years. I still have time. I can still become a doctor."

"You're going to be an amazing doctor," I said, meaning every word.

"And you're going to be an amazing CEO," Adrian replied, standing up. "Better than I ever was. This company is in your blood, Zendaya. It always has been."

I felt something shift inside me—a sense of purpose I hadn't felt in three years. A determination to prove myself, not to Derek or Vanessa or anyone else, but to myself. To my father's memory. To Adrian who'd sacrificed so much for me.

"Adrian, I think I can wa--"

At the tip of my tongue laid the truth. I wanted to tell Adrian so badly that I could work. That I had gained my mobility back. But I couldn't. 

Because I was scared. 

What if what happened back at home was only a flash of miracle? What if the doctors hadn't checked right and i still needed a few months to completely get myself. I couldn't raise his hopes. I needed to practice more. 

Yes. I'll tell him when I'm sure that I'm perfectly alright. 

"There's one condition though," Adrian said, his expression turning serious again.

"What?"

"You're staying here. With me," he said firmly. "Derek knows where you live. I don't trust him not to come looking for you, trying to manipulate you or convince you to take him back. And Vanessa—" his jaw clenched again at her name, "—she might try to do damage control. I want you here where I can keep an eye on things."

"Adrian, I can take care of myself—"

"I know you can," he interrupted gently. "But humor me. Let me protect you, at least for now. At least until we get you officially instated as CEO and you're back on solid ground."

I wanted to argue, wanted to insist I didn't need protection. But the truth was, I felt raw and vulnerable. The thought of being alone in my apartment, of Derek potentially showing up at my door, made my stomach turn.

"Okay," I agreed quietly. "I'll stay here."

"Thank you," I said, meaning it. "For everything. For stepping in when I asked, for being patient with me, for—"

The front door opened, cutting off my words.

"Adrian? You home?" a deep, familiar voice called out.

I froze.

That voice. I knew that voice. It haunted my dreams, my memories, every quiet moment when I let my guard down.

He appeared in the doorway of the living room and stopped dead.

Malachi.

Adrian's best friend. The man I'd spent years trying to forget. The man whose dark eyes were now locked on mine with an expression I couldn't quite read—surprise, concern, and something else. Something that made my heart race and my breath catch.

"Zendaya," Malachi said, my name sounding different on his lips than it ever had on Derek's. Like something precious. Something that mattered.

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. I could only stare at him as three years of buried feelings came rushing back all at once.