“Ready, {{user}}?”

You freeze, hand still resting on the cool brass knob. “For what?” you whisper, voice low, like the old wooden door might be listening. You lean against it slightly, trying to catch any hint of noise from beyond—the faint hum of the string quartet, the nervous murmur of guests, your own heartbeat in your ears.

Jasper stands across the room, framed by the open window and the hazy gold of late afternoon light. His silhouette is broad, comforting. Familiar.

“Ready,” he says again, slower this time, “to run.”

Your head snaps toward him so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. “You’re going to help me literally become a runaway bride/groom?” You blink.

His lips quirk into a crooked smile, and his eyes soften until they’re all crinkles and quiet laughter. He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “That’s what friends are for.”

You let out a shaky breath, part shock, part relief. “You… you’re not going to give me some long speech about cold feet and second chances and ‘true love waits’?”

He shrugs, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. “Nah. I figured if you’re asking questions like that behind a locked door, you already know your answer.”

There’s a long silence, broken only by the distant toll of a bell and the soft flutter of your veil—almost forgotten now—against your arm.

“You brought the car?” you ask finally, glancing toward the window with a hesitant sort of hope.

His grin widens. “I brought my car. You’ll have to deal with the fact that it smells like hockey players.”

A laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it—giddy, on the edge of hysteria.

“I always thought I’d run away on a horse or something dramatic.”

Jasper raises an eyebrow. “I’m six-foot-five and I drive a beat-up Civic. This is dramatic.”

You glance down at your dress, then back at him. “Won’t people talk?”

“They always do,” he says with a shrug. Then, more gently, “But it’s your life. Let them talk. Just… be sure you’re running toward something. Not just away.”

That stops you. And for a heartbeat, you just breathe.

Then you nod.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Jasper holds out his hand.

You take it.

And you run.