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During the finals, my husband Ryan Carter, the hotshot athlete, gave up a sure win with the finish line right in front of him. He tore off his number, jumped into the stands, scooped me up after I'd collapsed from acute appendicitis, and rushed me to the hospital without hesitation. The first thing I said when I woke up after surgery was—"Ryan, let's get a divorce." He stepped back, stunned, his eyes filled with tears. "I threw away my entire career just to get you to the hospital!" For years, he poured everything he had into the sport, chasing after that championship. But with one decision to quit, all his efforts went straight down the drain. But I kept my voice flat. I said, "That's true. That's exactly why I'm divorcing you. I don't want to spend my life with a loser who even gave up on his dream." Honestly, our marriage was a mistake from the very start.