Although I hadn't slept a wink all night and my gait was unsteady, I still arrived fifteen minutes early, standing by the roadside in front of the City Hall, waiting.

Because Caleb was an extremely punctual person. Once, I was stuck in traffic and was two minutes late for a date. He impatiently abandoned me and went home alone. From then on, I always arrived early for dates with him.

Sure enough, just as 3 PM arrived, Caleb appeared in my sight, carrying a large bag of things. I looked closely and saw that it contained some mangoes.

He noticed my gaze, casually pulled one from the bag and handed it to me, "Want some?"

His tone was calm, even somewhat gentle. It was as if we weren't there for a divorce, but as a couple getting married. My heart suddenly ached.

I waved my hand and turned to walk towards the City Hall, "Thank you, but I'm allergic to mangoes."

He froze, as if he were seeing me for the first time.

When we reached the door, we realized it was a holiday and the City Hall was closed. I even faintly heard Caleb sigh with relief, even though his brows were furrowed. He must have been hallucinating from staying up all night.

I said weakly, "Maybe next time, I'll go back now."

He responded softly, "Okay, next time there definitely won't be any mistakes."

Then he turned to leave. I felt a tightness in my chest; his words made it seem as if I hadn't checked the time and wasn't prepared.

The already gloomy sky couldn't hold back any longer and within moments, large raindrops began to fall. We were frozen in place by this sudden turn of events.

Luckily, I always carry an umbrella. He knew that too and looked at me. In that instant our eyes met, memories flooded back. The image of that thinly dressed boy, soaked by the rain, turning to look at me, overlapped with my own now.

Overwhelmed by emotion, I blurted out, "Remember when we first met...?"

"I lent you my umbrella. I told Michele I'd take her out to play at four o'clock."

I snapped back to reality. I realized then that the shimmering light in his eyes back then had long since transformed into an emotionless calm. The cold wind, mixed with dampness, cut into my bones, causing my limbs to tremble.

I bit my lower lip, forcing a smile that was more like a grimace, "It's almost four o'clock now, why don't you take a taxi?"

The next second, his words completely shattered my spirit. He said, "It's okay, she's usually half an hour late. I'll be there just in time."

At first, I wanted to maintain appearances and leave a perfect image of my ex in his mind. I naively thought that once he discovered Michele's many flaws, there would be a day when he would regret it and be chasing after her.

Now it seemed he could be infinitely tolerant of Michele, while I would forever remain that indifferent ex-wife.

I didn’t know how I got home. Only after the warm water was poured over my head did my vision gradually clear.

A rapid ringing of my cell phone urged me out of the bathroom.

"Miss Patricia, Michele wants to drop out! You must go and persuade her!"

If I felt regret and hatred towards Caleb, all I felt towards Michele was overwhelming rage. Back then, I discovered her talent and couldn't bear to waste it, so I used my position to vouch for her admission to the principal.

I transformed her from a flower girl abandoned by her family because of her gender into a highly educated talent with a good reputation. Back then, she cried and said I was the savior who changed her life and she wanted to learn from me for the rest of her life.

Now, with only six months left until graduation, she couldn’t help but want to drop out. I sent her a message, only to find that I had been blocked without my knowledge. The scarlet exclamation mark reminded me once again of my foolishness.

I found her number again to call her, but her call came in just then. After answering, I angrily questioned, "Michele! What do you want?!"

She not only ignored me but also asked me with a grin, "Miss Patricia, I remember you know someone at the hospital. Could you use your connections to check on my baby? I want to have a boy."

Before I could refuse, my mother-in-law's voice came from the other end of the line, "Why are you calling her? A sick hen that can't lay eggs has wasted ten years of Caleb's time!"

Her sharp and sarcastic words made me tremble with anger.

Back when my career was on the rise, Caleb promised he would never hold me back and would always take his medication beforehand. I worried his domineering mother would cause a scene, but Caleb assured me he’d handle it. His plan was to say I was sick and couldn’t have children.

I warned him sharply, “I will never agree to you dropping out. I’ll approve your leave of absence and you can come back to class after you give birth.”

Michele clearly hadn’t expected me to be so forceful and was speechless.

The even more forceful mother-in-law took over the phone, “Get out! Get out! The chemicals in the lab are so harmful to the baby! You just can’t stand to see us doing well! Get out of here!”

With that, she hung up and when I tried to call back, I was blocked.

Caleb’s text message popped up, [Even if you don’t agree to Michele’s withdrawal application, we won’t be stopped by you.]

I opened the phone management page, but my finger lingered on the block button, hesitating to press it. It wasn’t out of lingering affection, but because we weren’t divorced yet and needed to contact each other to get our marriage certificate. I scratched my head, my emotions churning with nowhere to go.

Just then, a pop-up message pushed a trending topic to my head. The moment I saw the title, I suddenly felt this whole thing was utterly pointless.

[A student surnamed Jones publicly accuses university professor Patricia Connor.]

The information Michele presented was explosive. Keywords that could pique human curiosity appeared like they were free in her case. At the end of the video, Michele’s eyes were red and she pleaded with the camera with a pitiful look.

“Miss Patricia, I’m sorry for what I did, but you almost drove me to my death. We’re even now. Please let me go and let me pursue my happiness.”

As expected of my student, she was very good at downplaying the seriousness of the situation and using euphemisms. So much so that the comments section overwhelmingly believed that I was the one who was too forceful and wrong.

[What kind of teacher is she? Driving a student to jump off a building, thankfully the police arrived in time.]

[I know her husband. She’s always been a very domineering person, the kind who won’t give in a single word.]

A few students did speak up for me, but they couldn’t overcome the prevailing opinion.

The uproar quickly caught the attention of the principal, who was clearly suppressing her anger, “Patricia, what happened? What promises did you and I make?”

I smiled wryly, “I just disagreed with her withdrawing her child and I got posted online.”

Upon hearing this, the principal gritted her teeth in anger, “Just having a child, does that warrant withdrawal? Michele took your efforts for granted...”

Afraid she would go on and on, I quickly interrupted, “Alright, Ma’am, don’t worry, I’ll handle this. I’ll leave the public relations to the PR team.”

The principal agreed, “Okay, just let me know if you need anything. The university gets your back.”

Those warm words hit me like a ton of bricks, unexpectedly bringing tears to my eyes. The recent events had brought me back to my dark childhood.

After organizing all the materials, I opened the backend and approved Michele’s withdrawal application. No matter how much I cherished her talent, how disappointed I was, or how compassionate I was, at this moment, I couldn’t find a reason to forgive her.

As soon as I approved, a screenshot of Michele appeared in the comments section.

“Thank you everyone for your support! The teacher has approved it. I’m sorry for wasting public resources.”

I replied, “Don’t rush, you’ve finished speaking, I haven’t even started yet.”

I posted all the evidence of helping her over the years in the comments section. Once posted, it immediately caused a sensation.

[If my teacher could give me such good resources, I'd do anything, even be their slave.]

[So this is the real scams.]

The university also issued a statement saying that I paid for all of Michele's expenses during her time at the university and there was no issue of professional ethics. This further enraged netizens.

[The blogger is insane! The teacher spent money and effort to send her to university and she just wants to quit! What a waste of such valuable resources!]

[More than that, she posted the teacher's name online if she didn't agree to her withdrawal.]

Seeing the backlash, Michele instinctively deleted my comment. This further solidified her accusation of repaying kindness with enmity. I didn’t need to worry about the rest; someone would find justice for me.

Just then, the doorbell rang and a clear voice came from outside, "Miss Patricia, it's me."

It was my neighbor, Charles Dickens.

He looked somewhat worried, "I saw it on my phone; I came to check on you. I had a pretty good impression of this neighbor. He was a policeman, much stronger than Caleb, but very shy.

I was always wary of strangers, but Charles gave me a strange sense of familiarity.

So I led him inside and greeted him, “I'm fine, just a little tired.”

Charles sat up straight, speaking with righteous indignation, “If she spreads false information like that, you can call the police once it reaches a certain number of views.”

I poured him a glass of water and placed it in front of him, “No need. She'll suffer endlessly afterward.”

This wasn't a lie; I'd seen the ruthless nature of Caleb's parents. If I hadn't been able to move out and live alone with Caleb, they would have driven me crazy long ago. I just didn't know if Michele could get past them.

Just then, there was another noise at the door. Hearing the sound of a key locking the door, I became alert.

Sure enough, Caleb pushed the door open, shouting, 'Patricia! Go explain online right now! Do you know how much this is affecting Michele!'"

When he saw there was another man in the house, he paused for a moment, then flew into a rage, "Fine, we're not even divorced yet and you're already bringing a man home, huh?!"

I interrupted him, "This is our neighbor, Charles. He's just here to ask about my situation. Watch your mouth!"

He was the one who was unfaithful first and now he was trying to frame me.

Caleb stepped forward, grabbed my neck and practically yelled, "A man and a woman alone together in a room, didn't expect me to come back and interrupt you, did you?!"

Looking at his angry face, my heart grew cold. How could I have loved such a person for ten years?

Seeing my face turn purple, Charles came over and forcefully grabbed Caleb's wrist, "Mr. Wilson, Miss Patricia and I are people with a sense of shame. We wouldn't do such a dirty thing."

Caleb, caught off guard, was about to lash out in anger, but suddenly let out a scream, released me and started jumping around on the spot. I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. Luckily, Charles was nearby, otherwise Caleb might have strangled me.

The air froze. Caleb, her emotions calm, spoke with a hint of weakness, "Everyone online is cursing Michele now. She's just a young girl, she's almost too ashamed to show her face."

I asked in a hoarse voice, "What about me? Am I just destined to be slandered by her? If I don't clarify things and really become the teacher she says has moral problems, have you thought about what I'll face?"

Caleb froze, a hint of guilt flashing in her eyes, but she remained defiant, "You're different from her. You'll take care of yourself no matter what."

I said bitterly, "Go. I won't speak up for her. Also, get the divorce certificate as soon as possible, preferably before next Tuesday."

He suddenly laughed, his eyes filled with disdain, "You're not thinking you're leaving here on Tuesday, are you? I advised you against playing hard to get."