My Husband’s Honeymoon Photo

On the very first day of our honeymoon, I dragged my husband to a local photography studio to get some romantic couple portraits done.

As the camera lens panned over him, the photographer casually asked, Hey, how come you didn't bring your girlfriend this time?

I was just about to raise my hand to show off my wedding ring when a familiar voice chimed in from behind us.

"Marcus! What a coincidence seeing you guys vacationing here too."

The scowl that Marcus had been wearing all trip finally cracked, replaced by a warm, genuine smile.

The girl shoved me aside, effortlessly taking my spot next to him.

The photographer smoothly guided them through a series of cozy poses, and as they finished up, he smiled and said:

"Congratulations! Wishing you two a happy honeymoon."

Marcus gently rustled the girls hair with pure affection and muttered a soft, "Thanks."

I thought my ears were playing tricks on me. Just as I opened my mouth to clarify who the actual wife was, Marcus grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the studio.

Right before we stepped out the door, my eyes locked onto the display wall he had been staring at earlier.

In the framed photo, Marcus and Chloe were locked in a passionate, deep kiss.

The timestamp on the photo was exactly one day before our wedding.

Suddenly, a cold shiver ran down my spine.

Looking at Marcus now, every ounce of love I had felt for him evaporated.

All the way back, Chloe and Marcus chatted and laughed, sharing inside jokes.

I sat there like an invisible third wheel who couldnt squeeze a word in.

This man, who had been completely silent and cold to me, was now looking at another woman with eyes full of tenderness.

I suddenly realized this marriage didn't even need to begin.

The moment we stepped into our hotel suite, Marcus threw his coat down and glared at me. "What was with that miserable face back there?"

"You were the one who begged for this honeymoon. Now that were here, youre throwing a tantrum and ruining the mood."

"Do you have any idea how valuable my time is?"

I stared at him in utter disbelief, a bitter tightness squeezing my chest.

When I was eighteen, the Franklin family empire went bankrupt.

My parents essentially pawned me off to the Christians under the guise of an arranged alliance.

The graduation trip my parents had promised me was canceled.

Seeing how devastated I was back then, Marcus had wiped away my tears, promising he would take me on a trip every single year.

The first year, Chloe got sick and was hospitalized, so we had to wait.

The second year, Chloe took a bad fall after a breakup, and the plans fell through again.

This year, Marcus finally agreed to take me. But as it turned out, he and Chloe had already been here, playing house as a happy couple.

The suffocating silence in the room was crushing me.

I just wanted a straight answer. "When did you and Chloe come here?"

He shrugged casually, acting as if I was making a big deal out of nothing.

"Chloe failed her job interview last month and cried all night. I brought her here to clear her head."

"To clear her head? Does clearing her head require mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?"

A long, heavy silence stretched between us.

Then, Marcus snapped, his face flushing with anger. "Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself."

"Chloe is like a sister to me. If there was actually anything going on between us, do you really think youd be sitting here as my wife?"

I let out a dry laugh. So, that was his truth.

Chloes parents died saving Marcus's life when they were kids.

To make it up to her, his parents had initially set them up to be married.

But then, Marcus claimed he fell in love with me at first sight.

He used childish stunts like hunger strikes and running away from home to force his parents to agree to our match.

When the Franklins went under, he finally got exactly what he wanted.

"Let's get a divorce."

His hands froze over the suitcase he was unpacking. He let out a scoff.

"Just because I took Chloe on a trip to cheer her up, youre throwing a fit and demanding a divorce?"

"Catherine, when did you become so childish?"

I said nothing, my heart aching in dull, heavy thuds.

"Chloe has really sensitive skin and allergies. Go sleep in her room tonight so she can have this suite."

Seeing me stand still, he reached out and patted my head condescendingly. "You need to learn to be more generous."

My eyes welled up with uncontrollable tears.

It was always like this.

The jewelry she wanted, I had to give up.

The designer dresses she wanted, I had to let her have.

I had been yielding to her for seven long years.

I sniffled, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Ill give her the room. And you? Im giving you to her too."

Hearing this, he pinched the bridge of his nose in sheer annoyance. "Its just a room! Stop turning everything into a federal case!"

Before I could reply, there was a knock at the door.

The moment Chloe walked in, Marcus smoothly took her suitcase, opened it, and began unpacking her things one by one.

That was when I noticed their toiletries were matching couple sets.

She slid her room card into my palm, offering a sweet, innocent, yet apologetic smile.

"Im so sorry, Catherine. I booked my room so late, and the view isn't great."

"I hate to make you suffer in that room... you dont mind, right?"

I suddenly felt a surge of petty amusement. "What if I said I do mind? Would you give me my suite back?"

It was the first time in seven years I had ever said no to her. Chloe froze, her eyes instantly filling with tears.

She began frantically stuffing her things back into her suitcase, acting as if she was being bullied.

Marcuss face darkened instantly. He grabbed my suitcase and hurled it out into the hallway. "If anyones leaving, its you."

The zipper on my suitcase burst, scattering my clothes all over the hallway floor. I sat slumped in the middle of the mess, looking absolutely pathetic and ridiculous.

The heavy suite door slammed shut, cutting off my view of Marcus.

The plastic room card in my hand felt like a burning coal.

I laughed at myself, realizing for the very first time what a massive joke my life had become.

Instead of going to Chloe's room, I went straight to the airport.

On my phone, the wedding planner was blowing up my WhatsApp, asking me to confirm the final details for the ceremony.

Before this trip, Marcus had held me close, promising he would give me the wedding of the century the moment we got back.

I stared at the screen for a long time, waiting until my battery was down to one percent.

Finally, I typed back: Change my name on everything to Chloe.

I also bought the digital file of the photo I saw at the photography studio and sent it to them. Use this as the main welcome poster at the entrance.

I figured Marcus would love my little wedding gift.

Our trip was supposed to last a week, but by the time Marcus finally returned home, a whole two weeks had passed.

He hadn't even noticed that I left the honeymoon early, nor had he sent a single text to check on me.

He tossed a luxury gift box onto my lap. "Chloe bought you this to apologize. Its been weeks, Catherine. You should be over your little tantrum by now."

I looked at the box. It had a prominent 'Gift with Purchase' sticker on it, and the perfume sample inside was already more than half empty.

He couldn't even bother to pretend to care.

I slowly stood up, pulled the pre-drafted divorce papers from my drawer, and slid them across the table.

"Marcus, let's get a divorce."

He glanced down at the papers, his brows knitting together in pure irritation.

"Catherine, don't you think you're being incredibly dramatic?"

"Your family literally threw you away and handed you to me like a piece of garbage. If you leave me, who else in New York would ever want you?"

I snapped my head up to look at him. It was truethe moment the alliance with the Christians was finalized, my parents had kicked me out of the house.

They called it "fostering a relationship" with my future husband.

Looking at the man who had once promised to build a home with me, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger.

The love I had once been so proud of felt incredibly pathetic at this moment.

My lips trembled, but I couldn't find the words to argue. Because he was right.

He slammed the door and left, telling me to use the night to clear my head.

The next morning, when I arrived at the office, my colleagues were whispering and congratulating me, saying my promotion to Senior Project Manager was a done deal.

But my blood ran cold when I opened the official announcement email and saw Chloes name listed as the new manager.

I stormed into Marcuss office with the printout, only to stop dead in my tracks. Chloe was leaning over Marcus, tenderly adjusting his tie. They looked like two high school sweethearts in the middle of a honeymoon phase.

When Marcus saw me, his face immediately twisted into annoyance.

"Knock before you come in. Even elementary school kids know that rule. Do I need to send you back to HR for basic etiquette training?"

"You've been with this company for years, and you still have zero situational awareness."

Chloe, on the other hand, took a timid step back, looking like a frightened rabbit.

"I'm so sorry, Catherine... I always do Marcus's ties. I saw it was crooked and just reacted without thinking."

She quickly untied Marcuss tie, shoved it into my hands, and ran out of the office crying.

Once again, she made me look like the wicked witch who had ruined their pure love.

Marcuss voice boomed with anger. "You know Chloe has been depressed since she failed her job interview. Its just one position, Catherine. Do you really have to fight her for everything?"

This was different.

I had pulled countless all-nighters and drafted dozens of proposals to earn this promotion.

And with one casual sentence, he expected me to just hand it over.

Watching him turn to leave, I called out, "Marcus, it's either Chloe or me. Choose."

He paused for a fraction of a second, but didn't turn back. He kept walking to chase after Chloe.

I walked back to my desk. Looking at the cubicle where I had poured four years of my life, it felt utterly alien.

That afternoon, the company-wide Snapchat group exploded.

A coworker nudged my arm, sliding her phone in front of my face. "Catherine... is Mr. Christian actually your husband?"

Chloe had uploaded a photo of my marriage certificate with Marcus to the group chat.

Her caption read: Wishing Catherine and Marcus a lifetime of happiness!

My entire body went numb.

The chat was scrolling at lightning speed with mockery and gossip from my coworkers.

"I knew it! No wonder she landed all those major clients at her age. She was just riding her husband's coattails!"

"Please, her parents basically sold her. Shes been his live-in maid for seven years. Aside from a piece of paper, she has nothing."

"Did you see how Mr. Christian looks at Chloe? That's real love right there. Catherine is just a placeholder."

The nasty, venomous words flooded my brain. My head felt like it was going to split open. I fled from my desk and slipped into the quiet stairwell to catch my breath.

But as I walked down, I heard a soft, wet, gasping sound coming from the landing below.

Chloe was whimpering, her shoulders trembling as her small hands weakly beat against Marcuss chest.

"Now everyone knows... you guys can be together openly now. She won't have to 'misunderstand' us anymore."

"Are you happy now?"

Marcus stared at her for a second, then leaned down to kiss the tears from her eyelids. "That's enough."

"Don't ever do that again without my permission."

Then, the heavy sound of kissing resumed.

I dont even remember how I dragged myself back to my office.

When I walked in, Marcus was lounging on his leather sofa, looking thoroughly satisfied.

I placed my physical resignation letter on his desk.

His forehead creased with instant irritation, and he uncomfortably pulled up his collar.

"What are you throwing a tantrum about now?"

"Chloe didn't mean to leak the certificate. She's been crying in the restroom for an hour. I already lectured her about it."

We had been together for seven years, and he had never once publicly acknowledged my existence.

The only couple photos we had were deleted by him because "it might negatively impact the companys stock price."

I had lived like a shameful, hidden mistress for seven years.

I stared at the fresh red mark on his collarbone and forced a hollow smile. So, that was his idea of a "lecture."

He stood up and reached out to wrap his arms around me.

The thought of what they had just done in the dusty stairwell made my stomach violently churn.

I lurched backward, dodging his touch, genuinely wondering how he did it.

One second he was passionately making out with his foster sister, and the next, he could act like a doting fianc to me.

He casually tossed my resignation letter into the paper shredder, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"I'm going to pretend I never saw this. As for the promotion, we'll talk about it next time."

"Besides, given our legal status, its better if we keep a professional distance at work anyway."

It took me four grueling years to climb from an assistant to managing my own projects.

How many more four-year periods did he expect me to wait?

I waited year after year for a vacation.

I waited year after year for a promotion.

And with one word"professionalism"he wiped out every ounce of my hard work.

But I was done waiting.

I kept my voice completely professional. "If you want to keep your distance, my resignation actually solves all your problems."

He looked at me, a sudden wave of understanding washing over his face. "Ah, right. We're already legally married, and the wedding ceremony is in two days. I make more than enough to support you anyway."

"My mother has been begging for grandkids. After the wedding, you can stay home and focus on getting pregnant."

I gave him a non-committal hum, waiting until he signed off on my exit paperwork before turning on my heel.

As I reached the door, he called out, "Oh, and don't forgetour parents are meeting in three days to finalize the wedding reception details. Don't be late."

I didn't answer.

The moment I stepped out of the building, I booked a one-way ticket to London.

A few days ago, I had received a job offer from a multinational firm over there.

My future was waiting for me across the Atlantic.

Three days later, I still showed up to the dinner.

An ugly beginning deserved a clean, dignified ending.

When I arrived at the private dining room, it was completely empty.

Right then, my phone buzzed. It was Marcus, and he immediately started yelling the moment I picked up.

"Catherine! How old are you? Still playing games and showing up late? If you cant even manage your time, how can I trust you with a manager position?"

I opened the text notification on my phone.

It was a new address.

How hilarious. The venue had been changed, and I, the bride, was the last to know.

When I finally arrived at the upscale restaurant, Chloe was sitting in my designated seat, making both sets of parents laugh hysterically with her sweet banter.

The moment I walked in, the warm atmosphere turned ice-cold.

Chloe immediately made a show of standing up to give me my seat, but Marcuss mother grabbed her arm, pulling her back down. "Chloe, sweetie, stay right there."

She then turned her icy glare toward me. "If some people hadn't used cheap, manipulative tricks, the title of Mrs. Christian would belong to Chloe right now."

"You're in your twenties, yet you expect your elders to sit around and wait for you."

"You haven't even officially moved into the Christian estate, and you're already throwing your weight around like you own the place. Who do you think you are?"

My parents sat there, offering nothing but awkward, tight smiles.

Marcus shot me a warning glare, his eyes practically screaming threats.

"On such an important day, you're the only one who's late. Aren't you embarrassed?"

I let out a long sigh, ignored the comments, and sat down at an empty seat. My heart was already dead.

Looking at the table, every single dish was covered in heavy, spicy Mexican chili oil.

Marcus picked up a fork, stabbed a piece of spicy meat, and put it on my plate. He leaned close to my ear. "Stop sulking. Everyone is watching. Smile."

Without a second thought, I scraped the meat directly into the trash bin.

The smile on Marcus's face froze.

"I can't eat spicy food."

My stomach had been ruined by stress ulcers over the years; spicy food was practically poison to my system.

Years ago, when I had accidentally taken a bite of a spicy pepper, Marcus had panicked, rushing me to the ER for a full gastrointestinal scan.

Since then, he had always personally checked every menu to make sure my food was bland.

Chloe noticed my action and her face fell. "The elders are all sitting right here, Catherine. Who are you putting on this dramatic show for?"

Marcus looked at Chloe, then back at me. He stabbed another piece of spicy food, his voice dropping to a cold, commanding whisper. "Eat it. Behave."

I set my fork down with a quiet clack. "Enjoy your dinner."

"I only came here to say one thing: I won't be attending the wedding. Marcus and I are completely over."

With that, I stood up and walked out.

Behind me, Marcus's mother exploded into furious screeching, while my parents frantically rambled out awkward apologies.

I drove straight back to my apartment, grabbed my pre-packed suitcases, and headed to the airport.

Back at the restaurant, it took Marcus nearly an hour to soothe his mothers anger, promising her that I would never act out like this again.

But remembering the absolute finality in my eyes before I walked out, a sudden, cold dread crept into his chest. He pulled out his phone and shot me a text:

Catherine, stop this childish nonsense. Come back and apologize right now.

I didn't reply.

For the next few days, I didn't send him a single text or call.

He didn't think much of it, assuming I was just experiencing cold feet and being shy before the big day.

After all, I had chased him for seven years. He was convinced I could never survive without him.

He figured this time would be no different.

On the morning of the wedding, Marcus got up early, carefully grooming himself. He couldn't wait to see me walk down the aisle.

But the moment his car pulled up to the luxury hotel venue, his face went completely pale.