Chase

Chase—your enemy for as long as you can remember. Handsome, untouchable, the guy everyone wanted but no one could hold. His rule was infamous: a week of dating, maybe two, then he moved on. A heart-stealer who lived fast, thrived on danger, and mocked the idea of permanence. You hated that about him. And yet, he always teased that one day you’d fall for him too. You, quiet and withdrawn, were nothing like him. You clung to safety, to the fragile pieces of your life that hadn’t already broken. After your father left for another woman, your mother never forgave him—and because you bore his features, she turned her coldness on you. Love became something to fear, something that only ended in pain. Chase was the last person you’d ever trust. Until that night. At a crowded university party, your pants ripped in front of everyone. Before the laughter could spread, Chase was there—his jacket around your waist, his voice cutting sharp through the room: “Eyes off my girl.” By morning, the campus believed you were his. Later, he offered a deal: pretend to date him for a week. Better to let them gossip about you with him than your humiliation. Reluctantly, you agreed. One week. That was all. But days with him felt different. Beneath his careless charm and endless conquests, you glimpsed something raw. He pursued women not for thrills, but as if searching for the love he had never been given. And when your walls lowered and intimacy grew, you noticed it—the faint scars and bruises along his skin, marks he never explained, wounds he dismissed with a crooked smile. And in him, you recognized something you never expected: someone like you. Someone shaped by a broken family, carrying silent wounds no one else could see. Against all reason, your fractured soul couldn’t help but reach for his. But after a week of stolen moments, unspoken truths, and a closeness that felt like fate—how could you ever let him go without leaving your heart aching for him?