I Paid His Tuition, He Took My Wife

"Esme?" I said, my voice hoarse. I could barely recognize it.

The woman, who had been full of concern just a moment before, suddenly stiffened. Esme Lambert turned around. When her eyes met mine, surprise and panic flashed across her face. But she quickly regained her composure and tightened her grip on Theo Clark's arm.

Theo lifted his head. There wasn't a trace of guilt in his expression. Instead, he feigned surprise. "Oliver? What are you doing here?"

The registration slips in Daniel Colgan's hands dropped to the floor. He widened his eyes in fury. "Esme! Aren't you supposed to be in Nenton? Who the hell is this guy?"

Esme ignored him and glanced at me, her voice indifferent. "Oliver, we're in a hospital. Don't make a scene."

How impressive. Even in a situation like this, she remained so calm, acting as though she were completely in the right.

Just three days ago, during a video call, Esme had stood at a desolate construction site overseas, complaining about the scorching heat and saying she missed my cooking.

Worried she wouldn't be able to handle the conditions, I had rushed to the mall that very night to pick out sunscreen and basic medicines for her, spending thousands on international shipping to get them to her.

But now, the woman who was supposed to be thousands of miles away was standing right in front of me, impeccably dressed, kissing the college student that I had been financially supporting for three years.

"What about the project in Nenton?" I asked.

Esme furrowed her brow, annoyed by my question. "I handed it over to professional managers a long time ago. I flew back last month. Theo is all alone in this city. He broke his leg recently and had no one to rely on. What's wrong with me taking care of him?"

"Oh? Is that so?" I laughed in disbelief, pointing at the lipstick mark on Theo's face. "What sort of injury would require a kiss from you?"

Hearing this, Theo looked at me with a wounded expression. "Oliver, don't be mad at Esme. I was the one who kept pestering her.

"She's very kind. When she found out that I was hurt and had no one to take care of me, she let me stay with her. I've never had a family. I don't want to have to face this alone."

His words sounded restrained yet dignified, as though he was the one who was pushed to the brink.

Esme patted him on the shoulder before turning to look at me frostily. "Oliver, watch your mouth. Theo isn't like you. He's not a schemer. I was the one who offered to take care of him. If you have a problem with it, take it out on me."

Exhaustion overwhelmed me at that moment.

During our five years of marriage, I gave up my position as chief designer to support Esme's career. I stayed behind the scenes, helping her with design plans and staying up late to revise proposals.

Years of intense work left me with a serious stomach condition, and the pain in my right hand sometimes made it impossible for me even to hold a pen.

Back then, she had stayed by my hospital bed and sworn that once the company got on its feet, she would let me return to the life I wanted and never let me suffer again.

But when the company finally stabilized, she told me she wanted to expand into the Nenton market, leaving me behind to manage the company for her and care for her sick mother.

I didn't even dare to tell her about my sprained wrist during our video calls, afraid that it would distract her.

But in the end, I was the only one who believed in the promise she made all those years ago.

"Esme, I'm not going to make a scene." I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself from shaking. "Let's get a divorce."