After Being Abandoned By My Ex-husband 52 Times,I Became The Queen Of Racing

I walked into the Law firm in a wedding dress. After five years of marriage, I had finally decided to divorce my race car driver husband.

The lawyer spoke in a flat, business-like tone. “For the divorce to proceed, both parties must sign the agreement. Your husband didn’t come today?”

I gave a bitter smile. “He’ll sign it. One way or another.”

Sebastian Trivett and I had been legally married for five years, but he’d canceled our wedding ceremony fifty-two times.

The first time, he left me stranded in the suburbs, wearing my wedding dress, because one of his young trainees needed help refueling her car. I couldn’t get a ride back and had to walk home, causing my feet to blister and bleed.

The second time, the same female trainee of his had a stomachache and craved a specific cake from across town. Without a question, he drove three hours to get it, while I was left behind, apologizing to guests and drinking until my stomach hurt.

Every single time we tried to have our ceremony, that girl had an emergency, and he would always rush to her side, leaving me alone in my gown.

“She’s afraid of the dark and needs company when practicing at night,” he’d say. “You’re just a housewife. You’ll never understand the thrill of the racetrack. Meanwhile, Adele and I share the same passion, making us soulmates.”

And today, on what should’ve been our wedding day for the fifty-second time, her video arrived right on schedule.

In it, Sebastian, the man who wouldn’t even let me touch his prized race car, was all over her. She was practically half-naked, straddling him in the driver’s seat, pressing his head to her chest while smirking at the camera… at me.

I’d seen enough. Now, I was sure she was the reason he kept canceling our wedding ceremony for five years now.

Five years ago, my family tricked me into coming home from the racetrack. They forced me to take my late sister’s place and marry her fiancé after her fatal car crash. They locked away my car, trapped me in the house, and handed me a newborn to raise and a broken man to nurse back to health.

I gave up everything—my dream, my freedom, my identity. I poured myself into raising a child that wasn’t mine and loving a man who never looked my way. All I wanted was the wedding he promised.

But to Sebastian, my five years of effort looked like a calculated scheme. He resented me for it.

That wedding we should’ve had five years ago still hasn’t happened.

My heart was done. The five-year agreement was over. The child no longer needed me, so it was time to live for myself.

——

Polly's POV

I walked into the Law Firm in a wedding dress. After five years of marriage, I had finally decided to divorce my race car driver husband.

The lawyer spoke in a flat, business-like tone. “For the divorce to proceed, both parties must sign the agreement. Your husband didn’t come today?”

I gave a bitter smile. “He’ll sign it. One way or another.”

Sebastian Trivett and I had been legally married for five years, but he’d canceled our wedding ceremony fifty-two times.

The first time, the female youth students he brought needed to refuel the car, so he left me, wearing my wedding dress, in the suburbs. Unable to get a taxi, I walked home in embarrassment, with countless blisters on my feet.

The second time, the same female student had a stomachache and wanted to eat a small cake from the south of the city. He drove three hours to buy it, leaving me alone to apologize to the guests and drink until my stomach hurt.

Every single time we tried to have our ceremony, that girl had an emergency, and he would always rush to her side, leaving me alone in my gown.

“She’s afraid of the dark and needs company when practicing at night,” he’d say. “You’re just a housewife. You’ll never understand the thrill of the racetrack. Meanwhile, Adele and I share the same passion, making us soulmates.”

And today, on what should’ve been our wedding day for the fifty-second time, her video arrived right on schedule.

In it, in the racing car that Sebastian had always cherished, like his life—forbidding even my slightest touch—two figures were entwined in a frenzy. She was practically half-naked, straddling him in the driver’s seat, pressing his head to her chest while smirking at the camera… at me.

I’d seen enough. Now, I was sure she was the reason he kept canceling our wedding ceremony for five years now.

Five years ago, my family tricked me into coming home from the racetrack. They forced me to take my late sister’s place and marry her fiancé after her fatal car crash. They locked away my car, trapped me in the house, and handed me a newborn to raise and a broken man to nurse back to health.

I gave up everything—my dream, my freedom, my identity. I poured myself into raising a child that wasn’t mine and loving a man who never looked my way. All I wanted was the wedding he promised.

But to Sebastian, my five years of effort looked like a calculated scheme. He resented me for it.

That wedding we should’ve had five years ago still hasn’t happened.

My heart was done. The five-year agreement was over. The child no longer needed me, so it was time to live for myself.

I returned to the villa with the divorce papers in hand.

As soon as I opened the door, a cake smashed into my face.

One of the maids rushed forward with a towel, but before I could wipe the frosting off, a crystal ashtray came flying at me, striking my forehead with a sharp thud.

“You disgusting woman! Who said you could wear my mom’s favorite necklace?!”

Seeing the warm blood trickling down my face, the maid looked panicked.

Still, Christian Trivett stood there, furious. “You’re nothing but a dumb maid who can cook. You’re not even worthy of one strand of Aunt Adele’s hair.”

I stared at his face, dazed. This was the boy I had given up my life to raise.

He took a small step back, glaring at me with contempt. “Don’t you dare come near me! You’ll never be my mom. Someone like you isn’t even good enough to be a servant! Dad and Aunt Adele are the real couple. You already killed my mom, now you’re trying to hurt Aunt Adele, too! When I’m older, I’ll kick you out myself!”

“You won’t have to. I’ll leave,” I said and lifted my hand, wanting to touch his face one last time. But before I could, the door opened.

Sebastian’s voice rang out. “What the hell is going on? Why is the house such a mess? What if Christian got hurt by all this broken glass? Is it because he’s not your biological son that you don’t care?”

Christian ran straight into his arms and whined, “Daddy, she yelled at me and tried to hit me!”

Sebastian’s face immediately turned cold. “Polly, who gave you the right? You think you’re the lady of this house?”

I pulled my hand back, swallowed my pride, and bowed my head. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up right away.”

He opened his mouth to scold me again, but when he noticed the blood on my dress, he paused. He rushed over. “What happened to your head? You’re bleeding badly.”

Looking at his concerned face, my head suddenly felt dizzy. I heard a worried tone in his mouth? I must be dizzy.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the world tilted, and I collapsed.

When I came to, Sebastian was holding a porridge for me.

“I didn’t leave the wedding on purpose,” he said. “There was an emergency at the track. But the wedding is rescheduled for three days from now. I promise, I’ll be there.”

I looked away, avoiding the spoon he held out.

He seemed so sincere, but I couldn’t help laughing inside.

If I hadn’t seen Adele Lyons’s social media post, I might’ve believed him.

But that day, he wasn’t at the racetrack. He was having dinner with Adele at the Sky Dining Ferris Wheel. She posted a photo of their silhouettes kissing with the caption: [Eternal love.]

How does he lie so smoothly, without blinking?

Sebastian’s face darkened when I didn’t respond. “You can’t stay mad forever. And don’t think I’ve forgotten what happened with Christian today. He’s just a kid, so he threw something at you. Did you really have to get so worked up that you were going to hit him?”

My nails dug deep into my palms, but I didn’t feel a thing. My voice came out low and bitter. “You’re so sure I was going to hit him? Did you even ask me?”

He froze for a second.

“He’s a child,” he muttered. “Children don’t lie.”

I let out a hollow laugh.

“Right. He and Adele would never lie. So the only liar here must be me.”

I remembered the time I spent all afternoon cooking soup for Sebastian and brought it to the racetrack. Adele stopped me, grabbed the bowl, and dumped it into the trash.

When I tried to stop her, she splashed it all over herself.

Sebastian arrived just in time to see that, and of course, believed her version of the story.

I’d asked him why he didn’t at least hear my side.

“She’s just a young girl. Why would she lie?” he’d said.

That was the day I gave up.

I pulled the divorce agreement from my bag and flipped to the last page. “This is Christian’s school contract. I need your signature.”

He frowned. “You’re always just focused on the kid. Why can’t you be more like Adele? Have something going for yourself.”

Just as he reached for the document, his phone rang.

He answered, and his expression instantly changed to worried and anxious.

“I’ve got something to handle,” he muttered, already walking away.

I smirked. “Something to do with Adele?”

He shot me a cold look. “She’s a hardworking girl. Practicing even at night. I’m just going to keep her company. Don’t overthink it.”

Watching him leave without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the one man on the track who always outranked Sebastian.

[Still got room on your team? Want to win a championship together?]

He replied instantly. [Welcome back. Get your paperwork in order. I’ll pick you up in three days.]