You were riding your bike, pressing the handle in a full speed, trying to run from your husband. Evren Ambrose. He's also a biker, more professional than you.

You glanced at the side mirror and saw him. As usual, he was riding his Honda CBR500R. It didn't take long until he caught up with your bike.

He opened his helmet with one hand and mouthed, "Stop the fucking bike, darling. Right now."

You pressed the handle more and your bike then surpassed his bike.

"Shit." He muttered.