12:53 PM.
Andrew's eyes fluttered open to the sterile hum of fluorescent lights and the soft beeping of a heart monitor. White walls. A faint medicinal scent in the air. The sharp scent of antiseptic clawed at his nostrils, reminding him he hadn't dreamed it—he was still in the hospital.
His chest felt heavy, as if all the weight of his past hopes had gathered and settled there.
"This has to be a nightmare," he whispered to the ceiling, voice hoarse. "This… can't be real."
But the thin golden thread glimmering faintly before him told otherwise.
The thread he had yearned to see his entire life. The golden cord said to connect soulmates. And now, when it had finally appeared—when it should have brought joy—it felt like a cruel joke.
Tears slipped silently from the corners of his eyes.
"I waited so long. Prayed so hard. Imagined how beautiful it would be when it finally happened. But the universe… the universe spat in my face."
He turned his head to the side, gripping the blanket. His voice cracked, barely a breath. "It was supposed to be magical… romantic… it was supposed to be him. Not her."
His gaze fixed on the thread like it was mocking him.
"I waited. I believed. I didn't date. I didn't kiss anyone. I wanted it to mean something. I wanted my first to be the one. I protected myself for a dream. And now..."
He blinked away more tears, his chest rising and falling unevenly. "Now I want it gone. I hate it."
The phone beside him buzzed, shattering the silence. The screen lit up with a name: Annoying Chase, Coffee Drinker.
He sighed, wiping his face quickly before answering. "Hello?"
"ANDY?! Where are you? Why aren't you at the café? Your staff is panicking!"
"I… got hit by a car," Andrew said, trying to keep his tone light. "I'm at Paradise Grove Community Hospital."
"What the—? Are you okay?! I'm coming after work. What do you want to eat?"
"Anything's fine," Andrew murmured, voice low.
"You're scaring me, Andy. Just… hang in there. I'll be there soon, alright?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
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 stormed in, winded and wide-eyed. "Andy! Are you okay?!"
Andrew gave him a tired look. "Don't be dramatic. I'm fine."
Chase dropped a colorful fruit basket on the table and sat down. "You're literally in a hospital bed, and you call me dramatic?"
Andrew managed a weak chuckle. "Point taken."
Chase's concern turned serious. "What happened?"
"I wasn't paying attention when crossing the street," Andrew admitted. "Too much on my mind."
Chase raised an eyebrow. "What kind of 'too much'? You've looked like death warmed over since I entered."
Andrew hesitated, then turned to the window, watching the fading light outside. "Chase... my fated partner appeared."
Chase jumped up, eyes wide. "What?! Are you serious?! That's amazing!"
Andrew turned to face him with dead eyes. "It's a woman, Chase."
The silence in the room thickened like fog.
"A… what?"
"A woman. The thread led me to her."
"But… but you're—"
"Gay?" Andrew offered flatly. "Yeah. I know."
"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. Imagined some soft, quiet moment—me and him, somewhere beautiful. But the thread doesn't care what I want."
Chase sat down slowly, stunned. "Are you sure it's not a mistake?"
Andrew gave him a hollow laugh. "I saw it connect. Crystal clear. And to make things even better? She's a suspect in her family's murder."
Chase's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious."
"I wish I wasn't."
Silence again. This time heavier.
Chase finally spoke. "I… I don't know what to say. That's… insane."
"I don't need you to say anything," Andrew muttered. "I just needed to say it out loud."
Chase nodded, then softened. "Maybe fate doesn't always give you what you want, but maybe it gives you what you need. Maybe you're supposed to find something in this—something unexpected."
"I didn't need this," Andrew said, shaking his head. "I needed clarity. I needed hope. Not confusion. Not a walking contradiction wrapped in tragedy."
"What's her name?" Chase asked quietly.
"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."
"Then don't think. Rest. Heal. You've got time to figure it out."
They shifted the conversation to lighter topics—food, coffee, bad customers at the shop. Andrew appreciated the effort, even if his thoughts wandered. The thread never left his vision, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.
At 8:30 PM, Chase stood.
"I've got a business trip with my boss tomorrow. I won't be able to visit. I'm sorry."
Andrew shook his head. "It's okay. You've done more than enough."
Chase smiled and reached for the door. "Don't overthink it, Andy. Whatever this is, you'll figure it out."
Andrew nodded.
Once Chase left, the room grew cold again.
He turned to the thread. Still there. Still glowing faintly.
A memory stirred—words from his younger brother, Leonard. Cruel, smug, deliberate.
"You'll never get what you want. I'll always take it from you. And Mom and Dad will always pick me."
That old bitterness flared, coloring the moment with dark nostalgia.
"I forgot how much that hurt," Andrew whispered. "And maybe he was right."
He reached out slowly, as if the thread would vanish if he touched it. But it didn't. It pulsed, patient, unyielding.
"It wasn't even worth the wait," he murmured.