As I was scouting the route alone, I accidentally slammed into a stone wall, narrowly escaping death.

When I woke up, news of my boyfriend's affair with a popular actress had exploded across the trending charts.

The whole internet was ablaze with the topic.

Some even dug up evidence of their past love, accusing me of being the third wheel who disrupted their relationship.

I immediately posted evidence on Twitter to clear things up.

I had been in a loving relationship with Rory Webb for five years. I was not the other woman.

Yet, that same night, Rory responded with a harsh message. [Only those who aren't loved are the third parties.]

...

Following his statement, the internet was flooded with attacks and ridicule directed at me.

My private messages were inundated with insults, and my frantic calls to Rory went unanswered.

It wasn't until three days after my hospitalization that he finally came to see me.

At that time, I had just finished talking to his rival, Stanley Johnston.

Rory was mad when he saw Stanley leave with an air of calm.

He slammed the door to my hospital room.

He shouted, "Julie, what were you talking about with him?"

Since he arrived, I hadn't looked at him. I kept my head down, making notes on a piece of paper, and said coldly, "A few days ago, he was the one who saved me."

During the accident, Stanley's team had been inspecting the track and managed to rescue me, getting me to the hospital in time.

I had narrowly escaped death in the treacherous desert, and yet Rory, my partner and boyfriend, only had criticism for me.

Not only that, but he also chose to publicly shame me online while I was still in a coma.

His face darkened even further as he thought about this.

He sulked, "What are you responding to online? How many times have I told you this is just hype? Do you know how much exposure this can bring to the team and the brand? Can't you just stop making things worse?"

His tone was filled with deep annoyance and blame.

He sounded as if I were the unreasonable one.

But in the paparazzi's photos, it was clear he was all over that sweet girl.

Anyone with eyes could see the depth of their affection.

Just as the netizens said, "Even if the pictures are blurry, I can feel their sweetness oozing out of the screen."

"Rory," I looked up at him and asked, "Do you think I'm just some worthless person who can't compare with Malaya?"

Malaya Solis was his college sweetheart, the subject of his scandalous rumors.

Hearing her name made Rory furious. He interrupted me loudly, "Shut up. I've told you she's in the past. Her appearance is just for work. Why do you keep fixating on her? She hasn't done anything to you."

Rory's voice rose sharply, his anger palpable.

He didn't even mention his earlier insult calling me a "third wheel" on Twitter or my injuries.

He only cared about protecting his first love.

Even the fact that I had nearly died for him seemed like a minor detail to him.

Unable to contain my frustration, I slammed the book onto the small table and said angrily, "Isn't scouting the route part of the job? Do you know I almost died that day when you bailed out at the last minute?"

Rory was a professional racer, and I was his navigator.

That day, we were supposed to scout the rally track together.

But the day before we were set to leave, he bought a plane ticket to go see Malaya without even notifying me.

On the unfamiliar roads, I was driving alone and encountered a blind spot with no one to warn me, which led to the accident and the subsequent car crash. Stanley's team rescued me and brought me to the hospital, where I was in a coma for three full days.

Since waking up, I'd been working tirelessly, trying to remember the road conditions to revise the route book for Rory.

Yet, when he finally came in, he didn't even ask about my injuries or show me any concern.

Rory didn't think he was at fault at all. He looked at my head and face wrapped in bandages and sneered, "You're out of your depth and still pushing forward. How dare you blame others?"

He took a few steps closer, snatching the book from me and flipping through it. His temper seemed to cool slightly, but his tone remained disdainful. "This is all you've got."

Since becoming famous, Rory had grown increasingly arrogant and reckless, believing he could lead the race without a navigator. He had come to disregard my efforts more and more.

My heart ached deeply.

He couldn't even be bothered to deal with me, storming out of the room with the route book in hand.

As I watched his retreating figure, I couldn't hide the hurt I felt inside.

On Twitter, the topic of the scandal continued to spread.

More and more people dug into Rory's past with Malaya.

The bittersweet romance of their once regretful breakup was now rekindled.

Netizens reveled in their touching love story and threw cold jabs at me.

I had long grown accustomed to their venomous comments and paid no mind.

The evidence of our relationship that I had posted was already managed by PR, and I sighed as I opened my video collection, deleting everything related to Rory.

I deleted highlight reels of his racing, fan edits of his looks, and interviews, right down to a CP video I had kept from our early days.

Back then, we were unknown, and he had freely expressed his love for me.

Racing was fraught with danger, and every completed race was a blessing from the gods.

He would hold my hand for encouragement before hitting the track, and after races, our helmets would touch as a substitute for a kiss. We were intimate in secret corners where no one knew.

When I first discovered someone had edited our CP video, I was thrilled and showed it to him.

Rory, in his arrogance, had said, "What's the big deal? When I win the championship, I'll propose with the trophy and make a grand gesture."

But when he was actually in front of the camera, he only said, "Thanks to my partner."

For his career, I had endured so much.

Now, watching that video only brought me endless sadness.

The video's cover was now grayed out, indicating the author had deleted or hidden it.

I clicked on the author's profile and found her latest video was a sweet montage of Rory and Malaya.

My blood went cold, and I felt an indescribable pain in my heart.

The comments section was flooded with that famous quote.

[Only those who aren't loved are the third parties.]

Looking at those words, I suddenly laughed.

Rory made a very valid point.

I closed the video and sent Rory a message.

[Let's break up.]

Then I blocked all his contact information.

I no longer wanted to be the so-called "third wheel" they were criticizing.

After spending half a month in the hospital, I was finally discharged.

The racing team threw a small party for me, supposedly to "shake off the bad luck" so it wouldn't affect the next race.

There wasn't much real concern behind their words, though.

They mostly seemed to think I was useless. After all, no one had managed to get into an accident while scouting a race route and ended up wrecking one of the team's heavy-duty vehicles.

I just pretended not to hear them and focused on my food.

Towards the end of the dinner, Rory finally arrived, fashionably late with Malaya in tow.

When we first met, Rory used to talk about her a lot.

Back then, his face was filled with anger as he swore to climb to the top of the racing world to get revenge for her betrayal.

But who would've thought that his idea of revenge, a few years later, would be passionately making out with her?

Maybe I should've seen it back then. Rory never hated Malaya. He was just never over her.

Malaya's smile was sweet as sugar, and she handed out small, carefully wrapped gifts to everyone.

She said, "Sorry, we're late. I was thinking about what to bring for our first meeting, so I dragged Rory out shopping. That's why we're late."

The group was flattered, showering her with compliments about how pretty and kind-hearted she was. She handled the attention with grace, effortlessly turning the gathering into her own stage.

Rory watched her fussing over the gifts, a soft smile tugging at his lips. When he looked at me, however, his brow furrowed.

He clearly had something to say, but I acted like he wasn't even there, and instead, gave Malaya a polite "thank you" as she handed me my gift.

Malaya took my hand warmly and said, "You must be Julie. I've heard about you online. Thanks for taking care of Rory all these years."

A few years ago, I really had taken care of Rory like an older sister.

But hearing it from her felt like she was reclaiming something that had been left with me for safekeeping. Her words didn't sit well with me.

I shook off her hand without a word, my expression blank. Malaya was left a little embarrassed, looking at Rory with an innocent expression.

The manager, who had been watching, finally couldn't take it anymore. "Are you planning on being mute all night? Miss Solis was gracious enough to come, and you repay her by being rude? What kind of attitude is that?"

His words made me laugh.

Everyone here knew I was Rory's girlfriend, yet they all turned a blind eye to the public spectacle of his affair. Instead of calling him out, they scolded me for not being more gracious to the woman he was cheating on me with.

Malaya pouted. "Oh, don't say that about Julie. I've been riding shotgun with Rory for the past few weeks, and it's honestly a little scary. She's amazing to have been able to co-pilot the whole race with him. It's no wonder she has a bit of a temper."

Her tone was casual, but she deliberately revealed that she'd been spending every day with Rory lately. Her eyes flicked towards me, full of pride.

Something in what she said made Rory cringe.

The manager burst into laughter. "Oh, come on. She was just sitting in the car. It's not like that's a big deal."

His tone was full of condescension, and everyone at the table laughed along. Malaya covered her mouth as she giggled, her expressive eyes now filled with disdain.

The manager was the type who thought he knew everything but was clueless about the importance of a navigator in rally racing.

But since he was the boss, no one dared correct him. Instead, they all humored him, laughing like they were at some circus show.

And I was the clown.

The only person not laughing was Rory. His sullen voice cut through the noise. "Have you all had too much to drink?"

The room quieted immediately. Even the manager had to show him some respect.

I stood up and addressed everyone. "Since you're all here, I have two things to say. First, Rory and I have broken up."

The room went dead silent. Rory's eyes drilled into me.

Malaya pretended to be shocked, her expression filled with feigned pity. "Oh? So, you two were dating? Is it because of me? I'm so sorry. My fans think you're just his assistant."

I cut her off, my voice firm as I turned to the manager. "Second, I'm resigning from the team effective immediately. Let's consider this dinner my farewell."