My Husband and Son Voted Me Out

I was packing my bags for our vacation when Ethan changed our destination again.

This time, to Balithe exact place my sister, Chloe, had been begging to go.

I stopped what I was doing and caught the knowing glance exchanged between my husband and my son.

If Mom has an issue, we can always vote on it, Leo, my eight-year-old, said with a shrug.

For years, whenever there was a disagreement between Chloe and me, they voted.

On my birthday, I wanted to go to a nice French bistro.

They voted to take Chloe to a taco joint instead.

I wanted to hang our family portrait in the living room.

They voted to hang an oil painting Chloe had randomly splattered together.

And today, the vote was once again two to one. I lost. Again.

I tried to argue.

"Ethan, Greece is where we got engaged. It means something."

He didn't even look up from his phone.

He was already booking the flights to Bali on Expedia.

"Both places have beaches, Luna. It's the same thing."

Ethan finalized the booking. A package for three.

"They only had a three-person discount package left. You'll have to book your own ticket separately."

Just like that, he grouped himself, our son, and Chloe together, leaving me entirely out of the equation.

I slowly slipped off my wedding ring and booked a one-way ticket to Greece.

If they wouldn't take me to the destination I wanted, I could go there by myself.

Seeing me buy my own ticket, the tension in Ethan's shoulders finally relaxed.

He ruffled Chloe's hair affectionately, then reached out to take my hand.

"Come on, let's go buy some swimsuits."

"Chloe and Leo have been practicing their surfing lately. They can finally show off their skills in Bali."

Leo clung to Chloe's leg, looking up at her with puppy-dog eyes.

"I bet Chloe will be the most gorgeous view on the entire beach."

My son rarely used sweet words.

With me, he was always cold, his eyes filled with a strange, unspoken disdain.

To get closer to him, I had spent weeks learning recipes from the food bloggers he followed on TikTok.

But every time I eagerly asked him how it tasted, he would gag, spit the food into the trash, and roll his eyes.

"Mom, your cooking is literal trash."

The food actually tasted fine. I used to think he was just a picky eater.

But now I got it. He didn't hate the food. He hated me, so he hated everything I did.

Sitting in the passenger seat, I looked through the rearview mirror and saw Leo curled up peacefully in Chloe's lap.

Noticing my gaze, he pulled a face and stuck his tongue out at me.

Chloe chuckled, covering her mouth.

"Honestly, Luna, you and Leo must have been mortal enemies in a past life."

"He's the sweetest kid to everyone else, but he just can't stand you."

Ethan, keeping his eyes on the road, chimed in.

"Yeah, Leo definitely adores Chloe. Every year when he blows out his birthday candles, he wishes Chloe were his real mom."

The car went silent for a second, and Chloe's cheeks flushed crimson.

She gave Ethan a shy, lingering look, then playfully tickled Leo.

"Stop it, you two. You're going to make Luna sad."

The laughter in the car felt like hot needles piercing my heart.

This was the child I had nearly died giving birth to. But ever since Chloe moved into our house, he had never been close to me again.

A bitter taste filled my mouth. Ethan leaned over and unbuckled my seatbelt.

Perhaps sensing my heavy silence, he planted a quick, dismissive kiss on my forehead.

"It's just a kid's joke, babe. Don't take it to heart."

Inside the swimwear boutique, Ethan, who had been walking next to me, naturally drifted over to Chloe.

Chloe held Leo's hand, and Leo held Ethan's.

The sales associate smiled warmly at them.

"You three make such a beautiful family!"

Nobody noticed me standing a few feet behind them. Nobody corrected her that I was the wife and mother.

My eyes burned. I watched Leo help Chloe pick out bikinis.

Suddenly, he grabbed a bright yellow string bikini and ran over to me, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Mom, you should try this on! You'd look amazing!"

Ethan joined in, gently pushing me toward the fitting room.

"Go on, let's see if our boy has good taste."

A tiny spark of warmth flickered in my chest. After changing into the bikini, I even stood in front of the mirror, carefully smoothing out the fabric.

I thought I would walk out to some kind of compliment. But the moment I pushed the curtain open, a bright camera flash blinded my eyes.

Leo had already uploaded the picture to our family Snapchat group. His childish voice was laced with pure malice.

"Mom's stomach scar looks like a disgusting giant centipede. Why does she always try to steal Chloe's pretty clothes and make a fool of herself?"

A cold dread washed over me.

Right at that moment, Chloe stepped out of the adjacent fitting room.

She was wearing the exact same yellow bikini, her flawless curves on full display.

Everyone in the boutique turned to look at her.

"Oh my god, her body is insane. Her skin is so smooth, not a single blemish. She looks like a model."

"Who's that next to her? Look at her saggy skin and those nasty stretch marks. Yikes, put it away."

I felt like I had been stripped naked and paraded through the streets. I looked at Ethan in desperation.

But his burning gaze was fixed entirely on Chloe. He didn't even notice my humiliation.

My phone buzzed repeatedly. The family group chat was already roasting me, calling me attention-seeking and embarrassing for a woman my age.

I bolted back into the fitting room, locking the door as tears streamed down my face.

Ever since Leo was born, I had tried everything to get rid of the ugly stretch marks and the C-section scar.

I had fallen into severe postpartum depression and body dysmorphia.

Back then, Ethan used to hold me, whispering that they were "stripes of honor" and "marks of love."

Even Leo, when he was younger, would kiss my stomach and tell me I was the prettiest mommy in the world.

But today, they had ripped that half-healed wound wide open, letting it bleed in front of everyone.

Outside the door, I heard the muffled snickers of my husband and son.

"That'll teach Mom a lesson for complaining about Chloe leaving her stuff around the house last week."

I slid down the wall, weak and numb, until Ethan's voice finally called out, telling me it was time to go home.

As we walked out of the store, Chloe gave me a smug, triumphant smirk, swinging her heavy shopping bags.

"Luna, next time you buy clothes, maybe ask for my opinion first? Wearing the same outfit is kind of embarrassing for you."

Leo burst out laughing, scrambling to help Chloe carry her bags.

Ethan tossed a cheap plastic pearl hair clip into my lap.

"You're not a teenager anymore, Luna. You need to accept your body for what it is."

"Classic, mature things like pearls suit you much better."

My nails dug deep into my palms.

It wasn't that pearls suited me. It was just that, in Ethan's eyes, I was only worth the cheap freebies that came with Chloe's purchases.

Chloe wrapped her arm familiarly around Ethan's.

"Ethan, I still need to get some sunglasses."

Ethan grabbed my wrist, pulling me backward with force.

"Don't go home yet, we have more shopping to do."

I stumbled. The sharp edge of a designer shopping bag sliced right across my forearm.

Beads of blood welled up instantly. I gasped at the sharp pain.

But neither Ethan nor Leo even glanced back. They happily accompanied Chloe back into the mall.

"Are you Luna? The photographer?"

A soft voice broke through my daze. A young girl had stopped beside me, pulling a Band-Aid from her purse and handing it to me.

I looked up, startled, and nodded slowly.

The girl gasped, covering her mouth in excitement.

"Oh my god! I love your work! I've been a huge fan of your photography for years!"

"But... you haven't uploaded anything new in eight years."

Ten years ago, I was a rising star in the photography world under the name Crescent.

My photos were praised for capturing the raw, breathing soul of nature.

Ethan had fallen in love with my work first. He had spent months trying to get my contact info.

He used to send me flowers every morning, homemade lunches at noon, and hot cocoa in the evening.

I was swept off my feet by his devotion and agreed to marry him.

After our marriage, his career took off, while I was dragged into the domestic mud.

Leo was born with a weak immune system, and I was forced to become a stay-at-home mom. I never touched my camera again.

The only reason I had insisted on going to Greece was because Ethan had once promised me that we would take a set of wedding photos there for our tenth anniversary.

He had forgotten his promise. But I decided I was going to keep mineeven if I had to go alone.

Saying goodbye to the girl, I looked her in the eyes and said,

"I'll be uploading new work soon. I won't make you guys wait much longer."

Heavy footsteps approached from behind. Ethan walked up to me, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

"What is taking you so long? You didn't buy a swimsuit, and you're not helping with the sunglasses."

"Drop the attitude, Luna. I promise I'll take you to Greece next time, okay?"

With me, it was always "next time." With Chloe, it was always "right now."

When Chloe wanted a limited-edition Chanel bag, Ethan drove across three states to get it for her the same day.

When I wanted a new Nikon lens, he promised he would have a friend import it for me.

I waited excitedly for a week. When I asked him about the shipping status, he simply shrugged. "Oh, I forgot."

To Ethan, I had ceased to matter a long time ago.

Maybe seeing how pale I looked, Ethan softened his tone a bit.

"Luna, she's your little sister. Why do you always have to compete with her?"

I nodded quietly. "You're right."

He smiled, satisfied, and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"When we finally go to Greece, I'll have my assistant book the best wedding boutique and makeup artist."

"I'll make sure you get the dream wedding shoot you've always wanted. You'll be my beautiful bride again."

Chloe and Leo walked out of the store, carrying dozens of shopping bags, looking exhausted but happy.

"Let's go home! We practically bought out the store!"

Ethan's eyes softened with affection as he took the bags from Chloe's hands.

Suddenly, the sky opened up. A torrential downpour began to flood the streets.

The backseat and the passenger seat of our SUV were completely piled high with Chloe's shopping bags.

As the rain lashed violently against the windshield, Chloe poked her head out of the window, looking apologetic.

"Luna... there's literally no room left in the car. Maybe you could take an Uber back?"

Before I could even respond, Leo slammed the door shut, ignoring where my hand was resting.

A sharp, crushing pain shot through my fingers. I pulled my hand back in agony, took a step backward, and slipped. My heel got caught in a drainage grate.

Ethan made a move to get out of the car, but Chloe stopped him.

"Ethan, the rain is getting really heavy. If we don't leave now, the visibility will be too bad to drive safely."

He started the engine, throwing a quick "Take care of yourself" out the window before speeding off into the rain.

The heavy rain soaked me within seconds. I bit my lip so hard it bled, forcing myself not to cry.

These heels were a custom-made gift Ethan had ordered from a boutique in Paris for our eighth anniversary.

As I struggled to free my foot, the leather rubbed my heel raw and bloody. Just like our marriage, once beautiful, now worn down to a bloody mess.

I pulled my foot out of the shoe, leaving it behind, and stepped barefoot into the freezing, muddy water.

Years ago, during the worst of my postpartum depression, I had stood on the edge of our balcony.

Ethan had trembled with fear, begging me with tears in his eyes not to jump.

He said the baby needed me. He said he needed me.

I didn't jump. I walked back inside, barefoot.

He had knelt on the floor, gently warming my freezing feet with his hands before putting my slippers on.

"Luna, if you get cold, my heart breaks."

Now, the cold rain drenched me to the bone, but Ethan's heart didn't break anymore.

I pulled out my phone to call an Uber, but the screen flickered once from the water damage and went completely black.

I stood under the bus shelter, shivering, waiting for the storm to pass.

When the rain finally stopped, a street sweeper pointed at the drain.

"Hey, lady, did you lose your shoe?"

I looked at my bare, bruised feet and smiled.

"No. I don't want it anymore."

By the time I dragged myself home, Ethan was just walking out of the kitchen with a mug of hot milk.

My heart sank. I didn't even ask him when he had learned how to use the stove.

Last month, on my thirtieth birthday, I had begged him to bake a simple cake with me.

He had refused instantly. "I don't know how to bake, Luna. Don't be childish."

Seeing me stand there dripping wet, a rare flash of embarrassment crossed Ethan's face.

"Chloe and Leo got soaked. I didn't want them catching a cold, so I made them some hot lattes."

"There's... probably some left in the pot if you want."

I glanced at the kitchen counter. The pot was already sitting in the sink, filled with soapy water.

"Dad didn't make any for you," Leo sneered from the sofa. "Dad promised that his love only belongs to me and Chloe."

Even though I had told myself I didn't care anymore, my chest still throbbed with a dull ache.

"What happened to your feet?" Ethan's breath hitched slightly as he noticed the blood on my heels. He moved toward the closet to find the first aid kit.

I wasn't ready to forgive him for leaving me in the rain. "I'm fine," I said coldly.

But the moment I took a step, a sharp, stinging pain shot up my legs.

Ethan suddenly stopped, covering his nose and grabbing a can of Lysol, spraying the air around me.

"Chloe has a weak immune system, Luna. Your feet are literally covered in street filth. You're going to bring bacteria into the house."

"If she gets sick, I'm the one who has to stay up all night taking care of her."

Every word felt like a sledgehammer shattering whatever was left of my heart.

I stood frozen as Ethan sprayed the floor with disinfectant three times, wiped it with rubbing alcohol five times, and then threw a pair of disposable slippers at my feet.

Chloe sipped her latte, clinking her mug playfully with Leo's.

Suddenly, she ran into my study and came out clutching three of my vintage cameras.

"Luna, can I have these? I want to take some cool vintage aesthetic photos on the plane tomorrow."

Those cameras had traveled with me across the globe. They were my prized possessions.

"No," I said flatly.

Chloe's lower lip trembled, and tears immediately welled up in her eyes.

Ethan glared at me in frustration, snatching the cameras from my hands and shoving them into Chloe's arms.

"If she wants them, let her have them! I'll buy you new ones later, Luna. Stop being so petty."

Chloe instantly beamed, jumping up and wrapping her arms around Ethan's neck.

Then, she pointed at the newest camera in the pile.

"Actually, Ethan, I'll just take this one. If I take them all, Luna might get really mad at me."

Ethan smiled tenderly. "You're always so thoughtful, Chloe."

I stared at the camera in her hand. The initials of my name and Ethan's were engraved on the leather casing.

It was his wedding gift to me.

He had forgotten. But it was fine. If she wanted my leftovers, she could have them.

Leo gave me a wicked grin. With a sudden sweep of his arm, he knocked the remaining cameras off the table.

With a sickening crash, the delicate lenses shattered on the hardwood floor. The memory cards rolled away.

My mind went completely blank. I dropped to my knees, desperately trying to gather the broken pieces, but the power buttons wouldn't even click.

My dreams, my passion, my youthshattered into worthless pieces by the people I loved most.

A sudden wave of dizziness hit me. I bumped my head against the corner of the table, too weak to even stand up.

Ethan sighed heavily, nudging my leg with his foot.

"It's just a couple of old cameras, Luna. Do you have to play the victim like this?"

"Stop acting and pack your bags. Our flight is at nine tomorrow morning."

With that, he walked into the master bedroom with Chloe and Leo.

I lay on the cold floor for a long time before I finally found the strength to drag myself up.

From the bedroom, I could hear Leo's sweet, spoiled voice.

"I want to sleep with Chloe and Dad tonight!"

I looked at the wreckage on the floor. I pulled out my backup phone, connected it to the printer, and printed out a copy of the divorce papers.

I signed my name clearly at the bottom and left them on the kitchen island.

The lights in the bedroom went out. No one cared if I was still breathing.

I grabbed my passport, my ID, and walked out into the night.

The house that wasn't mine, the husband who didn't love me, the son who hated meI didn't want any of it anymore.