They Voted Me Out Of The Wedding So I Canceled It Chapter 02
“Which way did you vote?” I asked.
Evan blinked, as if surprised I was still on that.
“Abstain,” he said. “At least I didn’t vote yes.”
I just looked at him.
His voice took on a self-righteous edge. “You know how difficult Rachel’s family can be. And Ava was adamant about having her biological parents with her. I was caught in the middle. The fact that I abstained at all, with everyone pressuring me? That was me protecting you.”
“Protecting me?”
“At least I didn’t vote you out.”
He pushed the laptop back toward me.
“So can you be an adult about this now? Pay the venue and let’s move on.”
I didn’t touch the computer.
A few minutes later, the phone on the coffee table lit up.
A new message in the group chat.
Evan’s sister, replying to the poll.
“@Rachel’s sister, thank you for abstaining. It’s more than some people did. Claire has done so much for this wedding. I honestly can’t believe it’s come to this.”
The living room went quiet.
Evan saw it, too. His eyes lingered on the message for a beat, then slid away.
Nine yes votes.
One abstention.
That single vote—the one that suggested someone, anyone, had hesitated—belonged to Rachel’s sister.
Not my husband.
I turned my phone screen toward him.
“Why did you say you abstained?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it matters.”
“I’m not getting into a fight over one vote.”
“You voted yes, and then you lied to my face and told me you were protecting me.”
Evan shot to his feet, his frustration boiling over.
“Because I just wanted this to be over!”
He raised his voice, then seemed to catch himself, pressing a hand to his forehead.
“Claire, I was trying to de-escalate. But you insist on taking every single word and putting it on trial. The vote is done. The wedding is happening. What’s the point of digging all this up now?”
So that was his version of protection.
Not standing with me when his family pushed me out.
It was casting a yes vote, then telling the easiest lie he could think of so I would swallow the hurt, keep working, and keep paying.
I shut the laptop and stood up.
Evan didn’t try to stop me. He just said, “Go cool off for a while.”
I went into the home office and locked the door.
The bottom-right desk drawer hadn’t been opened in years. At the very back, under a stack of old files, was a blue folder, its cover curling at the edges.
I pulled it out.
*Morgan Strategy: Boutique Consulting. Business Plan.*
Three years ago, I had finished the market analysis, the client acquisition strategy, and the first-year budget. I’d even hired a designer for the logo.
At the time, my former boss was ready to introduce me to my first clients.
But Evan had just been promoted to regional vice president and was traveling four days a week.
He’d said a family couldn’t have two people taking big risks at the same time.
He’d said Ava still needed me at home.
He’d said once his career stabilized, it would be my turn.
So I’d turned down the clients, shoved the folder into a drawer, and gone back to booking his flights and managing his life.
Three years had passed. His position had been stable for a long time.
My turn had never come.
My phone buzzed.
Not the wedding group chat this time. It was LinkedIn.
The message was from Maya, an old colleague.
“Claire, long time no see. I showed an investor some of your old project work, and he’s very interested in your strategic consulting proposals. He happens to be in Atlanta this week. Any interest in a meeting?”
Below that was a short bio for the investor.
I flipped to the financial projections in my business plan.
The numbers were outdated and the contacts would need to be refreshed, but the framework was solid.
Laughter drifted from the living room.
Through the blinds, I could see Evan sprawled on the sofa, talking to Rachel on the phone.
“Right, that one. It was Ava’s favorite when she was little.”
Whatever Rachel said on the other end made him laugh again.
“No problem. We’ll use it for the processional. The three of us are going to be a mess.”
They were happily picking out wedding music, as if the vote and the lie had never happened.
No one came to check on me.
No one seemed to care if I was packing a bag or just staring at the walls.
I looked down and replied to Maya.
“I’m very interested. When is the soonest we can meet?”
The message had barely sent when the doorknob turned.
Evan pushed the door open, his eyes landing on the folder in my hands.
He glanced at the cover and gave a small, mocking smile.
“Escaping into your little daydream again?”
I didn’t answer.
He walked over and flipped through a couple of pages.
“Don’t waste your time. You’ve got enough on your plate. Once the wedding is over, I’ll take you to Napa. We’ll stay at that hotel you liked.”
He set the folder back on the desk, as if he’d just put an end to another of my silly fantasies.
“A trip will take your mind off all this.”
I nodded calmly.
“Okay.”
Satisfied, Evan left, pulling the door closed behind him.
I picked up the business plan again.
Three years ago, it had been a daydream I’d put on a shelf.
Now, it was my escape plan.