He Won The Race But Lost Me Instead

Synopsis

My boyfriend's little spitfire, Flora Dodd lost her tesmper again. She had lost ninety-nine races to me. On the hundredth race, my boyfriend asked me to let her win. I replied, "Why should I?" But when the race started, my car, checked dozens of times before, suddenly blew a tire and flipped. Flora crossed the finish line first and waved her gold medal in front of my ambulance. His friends cheered, saying, "He really went all out for his beauty! If Clint hadn't tampered with the wheels, Flora would've cried again." Clint smiled and handed Flora the limited-edition Rolls-Royce I had wanted for so long. He looked at me. "The winner takes precedence. You don't mind, do you?" I dragged my broken leg to the car and smashed the windshield with a wrench. Then I smiled at him. "I don't mind."