One Step Ahead

The day my sister slipped away from her engagement party, she was certain Marshall Patton could never truly fall in love with me.

Confident in her belief, she left the country without hesitation, leaving me behind to hold her place and secure the title of Mrs. Patton in her stead.

I didn't cry or make a fuss. Instead, I played the part of the obedient stand-in, giving everyone the courtesy of maintaining appearances while I quietly bided my time.

Then, I poured every ounce of effort into making Marshall fall for me, bit by bit.

And when my sister finally returned, I made sure to walk away.

On my birthday, Marshall Patton drove me to a remote camping site in the mountains.

Tonight, there would be a once-in-fourteen-years red moon and a meteor shower that was said to grant wishes.

A few ladybugs flew onto my face, and I shrieked, clutching his hand tightly.

He instinctively flinched, but upon feeling the coldness of my hands, he pulled me into his arms.

In our five years of marriage, Marshall would give me anything the moment I asked for it.

A house, cars, luxury items—anything I wanted.

People would say they had never seen a man love his wife so much.

They spoke so confidently about him that a small part of me even started to hold out hope.

So, at my celebration party, fueled by a bit too much alcohol, I boldly leaned against Marshall's shoulder.

"This year, I want to spend my birthday with you. I don't want any parties. I just want you to be with me."

He froze, looking stunned, and it wasn't until the mood in the room turned awkward that he finally agreed.

I didn't have the energy to care if his tone was reluctant or resigned. My heart was full of joy as I eagerly waited for the night to fall.

But as soon as the sun set, his phone rang.

The signal in the mountains was weak, and all I could hear was the crackling of static, followed by a few sobs that sounded out of place.

"Marshall, I'm scared. Where is everyone?"

Crystal Payne's voice came through, amplified, and Marshall's face immediately hardened.

The signal cut off abruptly, the static disappearing, leaving only the sound of birds flapping their wings.

My hands grew cold again.

I reached out to tug at his sleeve, but he pulled away and lifted his phone high, searching for a signal.

I stood frozen in place as he frowned, dialing again, too absorbed to even look up and explain.

Sighing, I grabbed my coat and got into the car.

In the distance, I could just make out the faint twinkling of stars, but Marshall didn't care—he pressed down harder on the gas.

When we reached the base of the mountain, I stubbornly got out of the car and checked into the inn I had already booked.

Late that night, wrapped in my coat on the balcony, I finally