He Defended the Woman Who Ran Me Over

I spent the entire afternoon at the mall, picking out a third-anniversary gift for my husband, Derick.

Crossing the street, a Maserati slammed straight into me.

When I woke up, my husband walked into my hospital room, bringing the blond girl who ran me over.

"Daisy just graduated and isn't familiar with the roads in LA. You're not seriously hurt anyway, so just let it go."

When I returned home, I realized my dog, my companion for eight years, was missing.

"This dog tried to bite me, so I killed it. It's in a freezer in the kitchen now," the girl's cousin said.

My husband said, "It was just an animal. We can just get another one, can't we?"

I looked him straight in the eyes. "Derick, let's get a divorce."

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1

On my way home after picking out an anniversary gift for Derick, carrying the custom suit I’d bought for him, a Maserati lost control and sped straight toward me.

I was sent flying, bag and all. In the last second before I blacked out, I saw a blonde girl slowly get out of the car.

When I woke up, I had thirteen stitches on my forehead and a fractured right arm.

I was just about to demand the driver be held responsible when, the next second, she appeared before me, shielded behind Derick.

"Daisy didn't do it on purpose. She just graduated from the University of Michigan and isn't familiar with the traffic in Los Angeles yet. Besides, you're not seriously hurt. Let's just drop it."

Easy for him to say; I was the one who got hit.

Seeing my silence, Daisy started crying and ran out of the hospital room, calling out, "I'm sorry, Lidia!" as she left.

Derick panicked and chased after her.

"It's all your fault for playing the victim and making Daisy feel so guilty."

Staring at their disappearing backs, I was utterly speechless. Since they were being so blatant about it, fine, I'd give them what they wanted.

The pain in my arm hadn't subsided, and blood was starting to seep from the wound on my forehead.

Derick's call came through, filled with nothing but accusations.

"It's just a scratch, do you have to be so dramatic?"

"Daisy was so scared she lost sleep over it. She's just a young girl fresh out of college. She’s never met someone as aggressive as you."

Ever since I came out of the coma, I haven't said a single word, yet Derick and Daisy Hayes have been the ones blaming me.

"Derick, maybe you should get your facts straight. I'm the one who got hit. I am the victim here."

Derick's impatient voice cut me off. "Alright, alright, you're right."

"Anyway, no matter what you say, I've already gone to the police station as your family member and withdrawn the report."

"The police aren't involved anymore, so just stop giving Daisy a hard time."

The hand holding my phone began to tremble. The smell of hospital antiseptic mixed with the scent of blood washed over me, and the scene of the car crash flashed before my eyes.

"Derick, what gives you the right to make decisions for me?"

I was seething, my heart plummeting into an icy abyss.

On the other end of the line, I heard the rustle of fabric, as if someone had moved closer to the phone.

Daisy's voice, choked with tears, suddenly came on the line. "Lidia, I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to."

"Derick said he would cover all the medical expenses, and I'm willing to give you five hundred dollars from my internship pay to help with your treatment."

Five hundred dollars?

The cast on my arm alone costs more than that. Besides, my brand-new thirty-thousand-dollar Hermès bag and Cartier watch were both ruined in the car crash.

The bag was covered in scratches, the watch strap had snapped, and the face was shattered into pieces.

"Five hundred? Are you trying to pay off a beggar?"

On the other end of the line, Daisy's sobbing grew louder. "Lidia, what will it take for you to just let me go?"

"Is it because of Derick that you're targeting me like this, Lidia? If so, I'm willing to leave Los Angeles and never see anyone again."

Daisy's tearful yet stubborn declaration made Derick's heart ache for her as he stood beside her.

Derick snatched the phone, his voice laced with ice. "Lidia, that's enough! Daisy is just an intern. Don't take it too far!"

"Since you're being so unreasonable, there's no need to discuss this any further."

"This matter ends here. I only asked for your input to put Daisy's mind at ease, but since you can't appreciate a kind gesture, there's no reason for us to grovel like this."

Derick furiously hung up the phone, leaving me trembling with rage. At that moment, the chill in my heart was far worse than any physical pain.

I didn't see Derick for the next three days, not until I saw his Instagram post. An exquisite diamond ring was nestled in the middle of a bouquet of baby's breath, the very Tiffany one I'd been wanting for so long but could never bring myself to buy.

Derick would never put thought into things like this, and he rarely ever gave me gifts.