12:53 PM.
The golden thread glimmered in the stale hospital air—taunting, shimmering like it meant something.
Andrew stared at it with hollow eyes.
The same thread he'd prayed to see for over a decade. The same golden promise he thought would deliver him the man of his dreams.
It was beautiful. Magical.
And completely wrong.
His chest burned. Not from his injuries, but from the sharp betrayal of reality. Each breath hurt more than the last. He couldn't stop replaying it—the thread wrapping around someone else. A woman. A coma patient. A murder suspect.
"This has to be a nightmare," he whispered. His throat was raw and dry. "This… can't be real."
But the thread floated in front of him like a sick joke. And that meant it was real.
Tears slipped silently down the side of his face, soaking into the pillow.
"I waited so long," he choked. "I believed. I saved myself for him. Not her."
His fingers trembled as he reached toward it. But it passed through his fingers like smoke.
His stomach churned. Each word tasted bitter on his tongue.
"I didn't kiss anyone. I didn't date anyone. I thought… I thought if I stayed pure, fate would reward me. With love. With someone who gets me. A guy who knows what face masks I use. Who'd cry watching cheesy dramas with me."
He closed his eyes, trying to shut it all out. "I waited. For this?"
A buzz shattered the silence.
Incoming call: Annoying Chase, Coffee Drinker.
He wiped his face quickly and answered. "Hello?"
"ANDY?! Why aren't you at the café? Timmy's pacing like a feral cat!"
Andrew swallowed the lump in his throat. "I… got hit by a car."
A pause. "You what?!"
"I'm okay. I'm at Paradise Grove Hospital. Just a fractured hand."
"I'm coming over right after work. Want me to bring food? Soup? A burger? A blunt object for whoever hit you?"
Andrew gave a soft laugh. "Anything's fine."
"You're scaring me, Andy. Don't die before I get there."
"I won't. Promise."
Click.
The call ended, leaving behind a strange hollowness. He turned his head again, forcing himself to stare at the ceiling instead of the luminous thread taunting him.
"If I keep thinking about this, I'll lose my mind," he muttered.
---
5:45 PM
Bang!
The door burst open, and Chase stumbled in, hair windblown, clutching two bags and a fruit basket. "ANDY?!"
Andrew blinked. "Wow. You actually brought the basket."
"You're in a hospital bed, and that's what you focus on?"
Andrew gave a crooked smile. "I'm still fabulous, even injured."
Chase's face was pale. He dropped into the chair beside the bed. "Okay, what the hell happened?"
Andrew hesitated, eyes drifting toward the window. "I… wasn't paying attention. Walked into the street while being petty."
Chase frowned. "You've walked into traffic before and survived. Something else is going on."
Silence.
Then Andrew whispered, "My golden thread appeared."
Chase jolted like he'd been slapped. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious."
Chase's face lit up, just for a second. "Then… that's great! That's amazing, Andy!"
Andrew stared. "It's a woman."
Silence hit like a gunshot. Chase blinked, stunned. His shoulders stiffened.
"A… what?"
His voice dropped. "You're serious?"
He looked away for a second—just long enough to hide whatever flickered across his face.
"A woman, Chase. The thread led me to a woman."
"But… you're…"
"Gay. Yeah. Still am."
"But how? I thought the golden thread was supposed to connect you to your true match. Your match."
"That's what I thought too," Andrew whispered, bitterly. "I hoped. Prayed. I imagined some soft, quiet moment—me and him, somewhere beautiful. But the thread doesn't care what I want."
"Are you sure?" Chase asked, his voice tight.
Andrew gave him a hollow laugh. "I saw it connect. Crystal clear.
Chase looked like he was trying to compute the information. "Are you sure? What if it's a glitch or something? A misconnection?"
Andrew scoffed bitterly. "It was clear. It wrapped around her chest like it was tattooing fate on her heart."
He exhaled shakily. "And the best part? She's under investigation. Murdered her entire family, apparently. Tried to off herself and her dad too."
Chase froze. "You're joking."
"I wish."
A heavy silence settled between them. Andrew's eyes dropped to the thread. Still glowing. Still mocking him.
"I didn't ask for this," he said. "I spent my whole life dreaming of someone soft, sweet, and funny. A guy. Someone who'd love me back. Who I could love without lying."
Chase's voice was barely a whisper. "So what now?"
"I don't know," Andrew murmured. "Everything I thought I wanted feels like a bad joke."
Chase looked down at his hands. "And what about her?"
"What about her?" Andrew said sharply.
"Maybe… it's not about what gender she is. Maybe the thread leads us to what we need."
Andrew flinched. "You sound like one of those annoying fate-pilled philosophers."
"Sorry." Chase looked down. "I just hate seeing you like this."
Andrew didn't answer. He couldn't.
A minute passed. Then Chase quietly asked, "What's her name?"
"Sophia Miles."
Chase frowned, thinking. "So what now? You can't date a woman, Andy. You don't even like women."
"I don't know what to think anymore," Andrew whispered. "Everything's upside down."
Chase processed it. His jaw clenched. "So now you're… what? Confused?"
"I'm lost," Andrew said. "Utterly. I feel like I've been robbed."
They shifted the conversation to lighter topics—food, coffee, and bad customers at the shop. Andrew appreciated the effort, even if his thoughts wandered.
But the thread never left Andrew's peripheral vision.
And Chase never quite looked him in the eyes again.
---
8:30 PM
Chase stood, brushing off his jeans.
"I have a business trip tomorrow. Won't be able to visit for a bit."
Andrew nodded. "It's fine."
Chase lingered at the door. "If you ever need to talk—about anything, anyone—I'm still your guy, okay?"
Andrew gave a small smile. "You always are."
Chase left.
The silence returned.
Andrew lay back against the pillow and finally looked at the thread again.
Still there.
Still glowing.
Andrew stared at the thread like it might finally snap.
But it didn't.
Instead, a memory rose, uninvited—Leonard's voice, cruel and smug.
> You'll never get what you want. I'll always take it from you. And Mom and Dad will always pick me."
"I forgot how much that hurt," Andrew whispered.
Andrew clenched the blanket in his fists.
"You were right, Leonard," he whispered bitterly. "I waited my whole damn life. And for what?"
He reached toward the thread, fingers trembling.
"It wasn't even worth the wait." He whispered. "Fate gave me everything I never wanted."