He Bed His Co‑Driver, I Get My Victory

Ava Bennett's POV: The night Marcus Hale clinched the stage win, he never came home. His picture with that female co-driver was all over the trending list, their shoulders pressed together, champagne splashed across half their clothes. When I called, he sounded exhausted and annoyed. "Ava Bennett, don't make a big deal out of it. That's just how the racing world works." The very next day, Marcus slid the divorce agreement across the table. "You're too boring," he said flatly. "You're cautious, timid, and you can't even handle sitting in the passenger seat." I signed. Three days later, I entered an amateur rally under a different name. Before the race started, Marcus looked at my beat-up car and sneered. "Someone like you actually thinks you can race?" I fastened my helmet. My co-driver's voice came through the headset. "Ava, route confirmed?" I stared at the red light ahead. "Confirmed." He added, "What's the goal?" I smiled. "Make my ex-husband question everything he thought he knew about life." ***** "All you'll ever be good for is driving a damn grocery-getter." Marcus spat that out with the victory party hotel key card still between his fingers. Chloe Reed stood right behind him, tiny skirt, team jacket, his champion's wreath draped around her neck like a trophy. She flashed a smile. "Ava, don't get the wrong idea. Marcus just had a little too much to drink. I'm taking him back to the hotel to rest." I asked, "Rest until 6 a.m.?" Marcus's brow furrowed. "Ava, do you seriously have to make a scene right here?" I asked, "What scene am I making?" "I win a championship, you give me attitude. I train, you check up on me. I debrief with my co-driver, you accuse me of staying out all night." Marcus let out a cold laugh. Chloe slipped the wreath off her neck and held it out to me. "If this makes you uncomfortable, Ava, you can have it. You get half the credit for the championship, after all. Somebody's gotta stay home and cook, right?" A few people nearby snickered. I stared at the wreath. The fresh flowers, the champagne, Chloe's perfume, and the minty cigarette smell that always clung to Marcus—a sickening mix of all four. I didn't take it. Marcus's face darkened. "Ava, that's enough. Do you even know who I beat today? Blackstone Racing's second driver. Do you know what that means?" I said, "It means you get to go to a hotel with Chloe?" He frowned. "It's a strategy meeting." "Does a strategy meeting require a female co-driver to dress like that?" I arched an eyebrow. Chloe's smile froze for a second, then returned, even sweeter than before. "Ava, you might not understand. Racing is a very intimate sport. A driver and co-driver have to trust each other. What Marcus needs is someone who can cross the finish line with him, not someone who sits at home waiting for him to explain himself." Marcus looked at me. He didn't say a word. And that's when I understood. Sometimes what goes unsaid hurts more than anything that could be said. I picked up the glass of water from the table. Chloe flinched and took a step back. Marcus immediately stepped in front of her. "Ava, don't you dare splash her." I had no intention of splashing her. I calmly finished my water. "Let's get a divorce." The entire private room fell silent. Chloe's smile froze on her face. Marcus stared at me for a second, then laughed. "You're threatening me with divorce?" I said flatly, "Not a threat." He sneered. "Ava, what can you even do without me? You're too scared to drive on the freeway." I pulled the agreement I'd had printed out in advance from my bag and placed it in front of him. "Sign it. Marcus, I'm done playing your games." He grabbed the agreement, crumpling the corner in his fist. "Think it through. Without me, you're still just Ava, driving that beat-up little car to the supermarket to buy groceries. Nobody in this circle knows you, and nobody will even look twice at you." I looked at him. "Sounds good to me." Chloe said softly, "Marcus, maybe she didn't mean it. She's just angry." I smiled. "Miss Reed, don't rush. Once he signs, you won't have to worry about me anymore." Marcus slammed the pen onto the table. "Fine. I'll sign." He signed quickly, as if he had to prove he cared even less than I did. The pen tip tore through the paper. I picked up the agreement and checked his signature. Chloe suddenly spoke up. "Ava, will you still come watch Marcus race?" I slipped the agreement into my bag. "Of course." Marcus sneered. "What, you still can't let go?" I looked at the championship poster behind him. He stood in the center of the podium, trophy raised high, arrogance written all over his face. I said, "I'll come watch you lose." Marcus's smile disappeared completely. "Ava, what did you just say?" I reached the door, then looked back. "Marcus, next time we meet, remember to buckle your seat belt."