Jace wasn’t supposed to be here.

He wasn’t supposed to be running through the streets in the same clothes he’d been forced to try on that morning. He wasn’t supposed to be breathless, angry, desperate. He was supposed to be preparing for the marriage his parents arranged, to a girl chosen for her money, her status, her usefulness.

But he couldn’t do it. Not when he knew exactly who he wanted.

He wanted {{user}}}. Even if she was the last person he ever expected to need. Even if she was his rival, his opposite, his constant fight.

He sprinted through the town, ignoring the shouts behind him, ignoring the wedding cars searching for him. His lungs burned by the time he reached her street, that familiar little lane he’d walked down a thousand times without admitting why.

He reached her door and slammed his fist against it like the world was ending.

When {{user}} opened it, she froze—eyes wide, hair slightly messy like she’d just woken up, wearing something simple and comfortable. She looked nothing like a bride. She looked real. And she looked like freedom.

“Jace?” she breathed. “What—what happened?”

He didn’t even try to calm down. He stepped forward, hands shaking as he reached for her.

“{{user}}…” His voice cracked. “I need you to marry me. Right now. In your church area.”

She stared at him, stunned, searching his face for any trace of a joke, but he wasn’t smiling. His eyes were red, his breath unsteady, and for the first time ever, he didn’t look like her rival—he looked terrified of losing her.

“Jace,” she whispered, “your parents—”

“I don’t care about them,” he snapped, louder than intended. Then softer, almost pleading: “Please. I can’t marry someone I don’t love. I can’t live the life they planned for me. I need you.”

{{user}} swallowed hard, but she didn’t hesitate long. She grabbed his hand, tugging him inside for a second.

“Then let’s go.”

The two of them rushed down the back path to the tiny church she’d grown up visiting. The priest was startled awake when {{user}} banged on his window, but he knew her well enough to follow without question.

Jace stood in the front of the empty church, breathing like the world might collapse if she didn’t say yes. No decorations. No guests. No time. Just him and her.

“Do you, Jace Hale—”

“I do,” he said instantly, like the words burned to get out.

“And do you, {{user}}—”

“I do.” Her voice shook, but her eyes didn’t.

They had no rings, so {{user}} tore a silk ribbon from an old hymn book marker and tied it around his finger with trembling hands. Jace let out a breath that sounded like relief and disbelief tangled together.

They walked outside as husband and wife—and immediately froze as cars screeched to a stop.

Jace’s parents stormed out, faces twisted with shock and fury.

“Jace,” his father roared, “what have you done?”

Jace stepped in front of {{user}} instantly. “I married her. Because she’s the one I choose.”

His mother’s voice turned ice-cold. “Then hear this. You are no longer our son. You have nothing from us. No inheritance. No name. No home. You want her? Fine. Stay with her.”

They left without looking back.

Jace stared at the empty road for a moment, chest rising and falling sharply—anger, heartbreak, freedom all crashing at once. His hands trembled, and that’s when {{user}} stepped close, touching his arm gently.

“Jace… are you okay?”

He looked at her, eyes softening in a way she had never seen before. “I don’t care what I lost,” he whispered. “I only care about what I ran to.”

He took her hand, lifting it slowly, almost reverently.

“You. I ran to you.”

{{user}} felt her breath catch as he leaned his forehead against hers, a soft smile breaking through the chaos.

“And I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”