As You Wish

Wayne called out in a panic, "Lydia, are you okay? Hang in there. The ambulance is almost here!"

Hearing his flat tone—proving that he was unharmed—I suddenly recalled that the backseat was equipped with crash protection.

"Lydia—"

Before he could say more, Naomi's sharp cry of pain pulled his attention away.

"Naomi, where are you hurt?"

She made herself sound frail. "My hand still stings a little, but don't worry about me. Check on Lydia. She seems badly hurt."

Her selfless act only made Wayne more distressed. He whispered for her to hold on, assuring her that the ambulance was on its way.

Shortly after, an ambulance arrived.

"Over here! Someone's hurt. Please check on her!" Wayne waved down a paramedic who had been heading toward me.

His urgency made the paramedic assume it was critical, so a doctor followed along. But not long after, the doctor's exasperated voice rang out.

"This is ridiculous. She's fine. Don't waste our time!"

Wayne, who was usually very conscious of his image, shouted at the scene, threatening to report the doctor for medical negligence.

In the end, the doctor reluctantly gave Naomi a basic dressing for her burn.

As Wayne helped her toward the ambulance, he passed by the spot where I had just been pulled from the wreck.

The moment he caught sight of the gashes on my legs, he froze. Genuine panic flickered across his face for the first time.

"Lydia, does it hurt? I'll get you the best doctor!"

Naomi cut in tearfully, saying, "This is all my fault, Lydia. I shouldn't have asked Mr. Miller to take me to the hospital. If only I'd just endured the pain. None of this would've happened!"

Her soft, guilty tone made Wayne's heart ache all over again. Whatever concern he had for me vanished, and he turned to soothe her instead.

The paramedic nearby asked if I had any family present. I closed my eyes and answered faintly, "No. Let's go."

I was rushed into surgery upon reaching the hospital.

"You'll need to stay for observation," the doctor said.

I nodded and requested a caregiver.

To my surprise, Wayne visited on the third day with a lunchbox in hand.

He glanced at my bandages, a trace of reproach in his tone. "Why didn't you tell me it was this serious?"

I could only laugh.

The sound made him pause, discomfort flickering across his expression.

"I was distracted by Naomi's injury that day," he muttered.

I gave a quiet hum and responded flatly, "I'm fine. Go and take care of Ms. Stewart."

He froze, clearly taken aback by my indifference.

Wayne, who was used to being in control, was visibly irritated by my repeated rejection. But seeing my pale face, he kept his anger in check.

"I had Maria prepare some nutritious food for you. Eat a little."

Noticing the shrimp scampi in the lunchbox, I gently pushed it away.

"There's no need. I—"

Before I could even finish my sentence, he swept everything onto the floor.

"Lydia, you're unbelievable. Starve if you want!"

With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I stared at the mess for a moment, then pressed the call button for the caregiver.

The caregiver looked at the spilled food in confusion.

"Didn't the doctor say you're only allowed liquids? Your family really doesn't pay attention," she muttered.

I flashed a faint smile but said nothing.

Wayne never returned after that. Instead, Naomi bombarded me with photos every day—of Wayne watching the sunrise with her, stargazing on a scenic mountain, and taking her to a racetrack.

The day before I was discharged, she sent me a photo of two plane tickets to Eloria.

"I just mentioned it once, and Mr. Miller made it happen."

I didn't reply.

I listened attentively while the doctor explained my discharge instructions.

Back home, I walked straight into the bedroom. I pulled out my suitcase and placed the signed divorce papers on the table. Then, without hesitation, I walked away from the home I had lived in for six years.

On the plane heading abroad, I looked out at the endless sea of clouds beyond the window.

I was finally on my way to living a life of my own.

Goodbye, Wayne Miller.