It was nothing, sir. It’s our duty as human beings to help one another,” Stella replied politely. She adjusted her handbag, trying to hide her left hand, which no longer wore a wedding ring. It’s rare to find young people who care like you these days,” the old man murmured softly, as if talking to himself.
His eyes then scanned Stella’s appearance from head to toe. He saw her simple but neat clothes, her pretty face that held a deep cloud of sorrow and her swollen eyes. The old man, whose name was Arthur Kesler, was not just some random person who happened to be taking the bus. However, today he had deliberately left his luxury car and personal driver at home. He wanted to reminisce about the past, the times when he fought for justice from the ground up, feeling the pulse of the lives of the humble people he often defended in his past judgments.
But he didn’t expect to nearly have an accident, and he certainly didn’t expect to be helped by a young woman who looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. My dear, where are you headed? all dressed up on a bus?” Mr. Kesler asked, trying to start a conversation. He wanted to know more about this kind-hearted woman.
Stella hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t used to confiding in strangers, especially when her destination was a place she wasn’t proud of. The family court. Shame washed over her. How should she answer to say she was getting a divorce? That her successful husband was throwing her away.
I have some business to attend to, sir. music,” Stella replied diplomatically, trying to smile, though her lips felt stiff. “Mister,” Kesler nodded slowly, as if understanding that there was something she didn’t want to reveal. However, Mister Kesler’s old eyes, which had for decades observed the faces of people in the defendant’s box, could read body language very well. He saw unease, fear, and a deep sadness in Stella’s eyes.
Your face is clouded, my dear, like the sky outside, Mr. Kesler said suddenly, his voice as gentle as a father speaking to his daughter. A good person like you doesn’t deserve to look so sad.
That simple sentence, for some reason, struck a chord in Stella’s heart. The defenses she had built up since morning slowly crumbled in the middle of the noisy bus and indifferent crowd. The sincere attention from this unknown old man made her eyes well up again. Stella turned her face toward the window, holding back her tears so they wouldn’t fall in front of everyone. This unexpected encounter was beginning to open a small crack in her frozen heart.
The city bus lurched forward, navigating through the morning traffic. Amidst the pollution and the roar of the diesel engine, the conversation between Stella and Mr. Kesler flowed slowly, creating their own pocket of tranquility amidst the hustle and bustle of the other passengers. Stella took a deep breath. music trying to push away the tightness that was once again squeezing her chest because of the old man’s question.
She looked at Mr. Kesler’s face again. It reminded her of her late father’s serene, full of the lines of experience and radiating a sincerity that was hard to find in this big city. She didn’t know what prompted her, but Stella’s walls of defense gradually came down. Maybe it was because she was tired of keeping everything to herself. Or maybe because she felt she would never meet this old man again after today, so there was no harm in sharing a small part of her burden.
I’m going to the Cook County Courthouse, sir. Music. Stella finally answered in a quiet voice, almost a whisper so the other passengers wouldn’t hear. Her eyes again looked down sadly at the tips of her worn shoes.
Mr. Kesler was silent for a moment. He didn’t seem surprised, but his expression grew more serious and full of empathy. He shifted slightly in his seat so he could hear Stella’s voice better over the noise of the bus. “Not to file a marriage license for someone else, I hope.” “Mister,” Kesler asked carefully, though he could already guess the answer from the aura of sadness surrounding the young woman.
Stella shook her head slowly. A bitter smile formed on her lips. “No, sir, to end my own marriage. Today is my first hearing.”
A momentary silence fell between them. Only the voice of a street vendor shouting about selling tissues and water broke the awkward silence. “My husband doesn’t want me anymore, sir,” Stella continued. “This time,” her tears couldn’t be held back. A single drop fell, landing on the back of her hand, which she was clenching tightly. “He’s successful now, an important man. music. He says I’m not worthy of being with him anymore. That I’m just an embarrassment to his career.”
Upon hearing that confession, Mr. Kesler’s jaw tightened slightly. Music. His wrinkled hand gripped the head of his wooden cane more firmly. As someone who had been immersed in the legal world for decades, music he had seen many cases like this. The cliche story of someone forgetting their roots, of loyalty betrayed by the glitter of money and status. However, hearing it directly from a woman as kind and sweet as Stella still made his heart ache with anger.
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