I Helped An Elderly Man On The Bus—He Turned Out To Be A Renowned Law Professor—and My Arrogant Husband Actually Knelt Down In Shock When He Recognized Him!

“What if the judge believes all of Gabe’s lies? What if they really throw me out without a penny? Where will I live then?”

That fear was like a monster slowly devouring her courage. Stella clutched the strap of her bag tightly.

She felt so small, like an ant about to face an elephant. Gabe had everything: money, status, legal knowledge, and connections.

Stella only had her honesty and the remnants of faith that God doesn’t sleep. Upon reaching the bus stop, Stella sat on the metal bench that was already starting to rust.

She waited for the city bus headed for the Cook County Courthouse. Around her, people were busy with their own lives.

Some were glued to their phones, some lost in thought, some sleeping off the exhaustion of a night shift. In the midst of that crowd, Stella felt utterly alone.

There was no hand to hold for strength; there was no shoulder to lean on. A gleaming black sedan drove slowly past the bus stop.

Its windows were tinted, but Stella recognized the license plate. It was Gabe’s car.

Stella’s heart seemed to stop. The car glided smoothly, weaving through traffic with arrogance while Stella still had to wait for the old, late bus.

The difference in their fates was starkly displayed before her eyes. Gabe was moving forward in comfort, while Stella had to struggle just to get to the place where her destiny would be decided.

A Humble Act on a Crowded Journey

“Dear God,”

Stella prayed in her heart, her teary eyes staring at the asphalt.

“If this separation is the best path, then strengthen my heart. Don’t let me break down in the face of Gabe’s arrogance. Give me just one sign of your help today so I don’t feel so alone.”

Not long after, the city bus she was waiting for finally appeared around the corner. Black smoke billowed from its exhaust pipe.

The bus was completely packed. The driver shouted for passengers.

Stella took a deep breath, strengthening her legs to stand up. She prepared to squeeze in, bracing herself for an uncomfortable journey as uncomfortable as the life journey she was currently on.

Stella boarded the bus, unaware that her prayer from moments ago was about to be answered in the most unexpected way. Inside that crowded public vehicle, the atmosphere was suffocating.

The air was a mix of passenger sweat, stale cigarette smoke clinging to clothes, and road dust coming in through the open windows. Stella stood squeezed between a man carrying a large sack and a group of loud students.

Her legs were beginning to ache from having to keep her balance every time the bus accelerated or braked sharply. The driver seemed to be chasing a daily quota recklessly, maneuvering the old vehicle without any regard for the passengers’ comfort.

Stella tried to close her eyes for a moment, attempting to calm the turmoil in her chest, but the blaring horns forced her to stay awake. In front of her, the row of priority seats was full.

Ironically, those seats were occupied by young people engrossed in their phones, pretending to sleep or wearing headphones as if closing their eyes and hearts to the world around them. None of them cared that there was a pregnant woman standing with difficulty in the back or an elderly man clinging tightly to a metal pole.

The bus slowed down again as it approached the stop near the downtown market. The stuck hydraulic door creaked open with a harsh squeal.

“Come on, hurry up if you’re getting on!”

The driver yelled, hanging out the side as he slapped the body of the bus from the curb. An old man was trying to board with great difficulty.

His hair was completely white, his body thin, and he wore a plaid shirt whose color had faded and dress pants that were too loose for him. His wrinkled hands trembled as he tried to reach the high handrail of the bus door.

His steps were heavy and slow.

“Hey, old man, pick it up a little!”

The driver scolded him impatiently.

“We’re on a schedule.”

He didn’t even get out to help the old man get on. The other passengers just glanced at him for a moment with annoyed looks before returning to their own business.

There was no empathy for them; the slow old man was just an obstacle on their way to work. The old man finally managed to get his foot onto the bus floor, breathing heavily.

However, he had barely found something to hold on to when the impatient driver slammed on the accelerator. The bus shot forward abruptly.

The old man’s frail body lurched backward. He lost his balance.

“Watch out!”

A woman near the door shouted, but even she didn’t move to help. Stella, who saw what was happening from the middle of the aisle, reacted immediately.

Forgetting her own sorrow, forgetting her shame, her humanitarian instinct took over with agility. Stella pushed her way through the other passengers and caught the old man’s arm just before he fell backward toward the still open door.

“Be careful, sir!”

Stella exclaimed as she supported the old man’s weight with all her strength. Stella’s hands, gentle but firm, held the old man’s arm, saving him from a fatal accident.

The old man seemed to be in shock, his face pale, his breathing ragged. He looked at Stella with eyes that still reflected the lingering panic.

“Thank you, thank you, my dear,”

He said in a hoarse, trembling voice. Stella gave a small, sincere, and reassuring smile.

“You’re welcome, sir. Hold on to me.”

Then Stella looked around for an empty seat. Nothing.

All the seats were taken. Her eyes fell on a young man sitting in the priority seat right in front of them who had been engrossed in a game on his phone, oblivious to the commotion just moments before.

“Excuse me, young man,”

Stella called out in a soft but firm voice.

“Could you please give your seat to this gentleman? He can’t stand for long.”

The young man looked up, glaring at Stella and the old man with an annoyed expression. He huffed in frustration as if Stella had just interrupted a crucial moment in his life.

Reluctantly, with a sour face, the young man stood up without a word. He then moved to the back of the bus, grumbling under his breath.

“Please sit here, sir,”

Stella said as she gently guided the old man to the seat. She made sure he was comfortable before letting go.

The old man let out a sigh of relief as his back touched the seat. He massaged his trembling knees.

After feeling a bit calmer, he looked up at Stella who was now standing beside him, holding on to the back of the seat.

“Thank you so much, my dear. If it weren’t for you, I might have rolled right out of the bus,”

The old man said again. This time Stella could see his face more clearly.

Although wrinkles covered his face, there was a sharp yet serene look in his eyes. A strange dignity emanated from his simple figure, something that didn’t quite match the worn-out clothes he was wearing.

“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.