My grudge in the Autumn for this Love-Hate Relationship

In the sixth year after my divorce, I met my ex-wife Patricia in a cake shop.

When the clerk saw her, he smiled kindly. “Professor Angelo! buying strawberry cake for your husband again? Same as always, right? I’ve already packed it for you.”

Patricia nodded.

When she saw the two mango cakes I had packed, she told the clerk, “Put his order together with mine.”

I politely refused and took out my phone to scan the code first. But she quickly swiped her card before I could.

“This cake is 85 dollars a piece. You used to save for a long time before you were willing to buy even one.