07

𝓣𝓲𝓶

My heart was still racing when Eric’s joke settled between us. It hit me hard, like something heavy dropping straight into my chest and refusing to move.

For a moment, I couldn’t think. My mind went blank, then filled too fast. Laura’s face. Her smile. The way her eyes had lingered on me all night. A cold thought slid in before I could stop it.

What if she knew? What if this wasn’t a joke at all?

I didn’t laugh right away. My throat felt tight, like I couldn’t get enough air. I forced my mouth to curve into something that looked like a smile, praying it was convincing. I kept my hands still at my sides even though my fingers wanted to curl tight.

I had learned how to do this years ago. How to keep my face calm while panic burned inside me. How to act normal when fear was screaming in my head.

If Eric found out, everything would change. I wouldn’t just lose a friend. I would lose my place. My safety. The one person I had built my life around.

“Ignore her,” I said lightly, even though my voice didn’t feel like mine. “You know how people talk.”

Inside, I was already bracing myself, waiting for Laura to look at me again, waiting for the moment everything might fall apart.

Eric chuckled, clearly pleased. “Yeah. She reads too much into things.”

Laura.

Her name slid through my thoughts like a blade.

As we walked back toward the ward, fear began to settle deep in my stomach. Not sudden fear. Not panic. The slow kind. The kind that grows when pieces start lining up too neatly.

Her looks. Her timing. The way she spoke to me earlier and the way she smiled when Eric wasn’t watching.

What if she knew?

The thought made my chest tighten. I kept my breathing steady, counting my steps as we entered the ward again. Laura was sitting up now, pillows stacked behind her back. She looked weaker than before, her skin pale, her lips slightly parted like she was still struggling or was she faking it?

When she saw us, her face softened into something gentle.

“Eric,” she said quietly. “Please don’t be upset with Tim.”

Eric stopped short. “What?”

She turned her head slowly, deliberately, toward me. Her eyes held mine for just a second too long.

“This isn’t his fault,” she said. “I slipped. I was careless.”

I stiffened.

Eric frowned. “You didn’t tell me that.”

She gave a small, helpless smile. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

She reached toward the bedside table and lifted something wrapped in paper. The wrapping was slightly warped, as if it had been wet and dried again. She held it carefully, like it mattered.

“I only fell because I was trying to get this,” she said.

Eric blinked. “Get what?”

She looked at me again.

“A gift,” she said softly. “For Tim.”

My heart dropped.

Eric turned fully toward me, surprised. “For you?”

“Yes,” Laura said. “I prepared it earlier. I didn’t want him to see it until tonight.”

Eric laughed. “You never mentioned it.”

She shrugged slightly. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Her fingers tightened around the package. “I didn’t want it to get ruined.”

Eric shook his head with a fond smile. “You went into the water for that?”

She nodded. “I didn’t want to lose it.”

I understood then. This wasn’t kindness or a coincidence at all.

This was a plan she had carefully curated.

Eric turned to me. “See? She wasn’t pretending. She was just being thoughtful.”

Laura held the gift out to me.

“Please,” she said gently. “Take it.”

My body wanted to step back. Every instinct told me not to touch it, but Eric was watching. The nurses were nearby and Laura looked fragile and kind to anyone else in the room.

I took it.

“Thank you,” I said.

Her smile widened. Just slightly.

Eric clapped his hands. “Open it.”

I hesitated. Laura tilted her head, watching me closely.

“I hope you like it,” she said.

I peeled back the paper.

The cover hit me like a slap.

Bright colors, that smell of cheap ink. A grotesque, exaggerated drawing of a man with twisted features, limp posture, painted lips, and mocking eyes.

‘A Straight Man’s Guide to Turning Gay’

For a second, everything went silent. The room, my thoughts and even my breath.

Then heat rushed into my face. My fingers trembled around the book, my chest burned so badly it felt like my ribs were closing in.

Laura leaned forward slightly.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asked softly.

Eric burst out laughing. “Oh my God. That’s brutal.”

She gave a small laugh too. “I thought he might need something humorous.”

My ears rang.

“I noticed Tim has been… tense lately,” she continued. “Quiet and distant. I thought maybe he just needed a reminder not to take life too seriously.”

Her eyes never left my face.

Eric nodded. “You’ve been stressed, man. Always so serious. Laura thought this might help loosen you up.”

Loosen you up.

I understood now, completely. This wasn’t some cruel joke or a stunt she pulled but a deliberate attempt.

She knew.

The title, the joke they made and most of all, the timing. The way she framed it as concern, the way she made Eric explain it for her.

The way she was watching me now, calm and patient, waiting to see if I would break. If I reacted, I would confirm everything.

If I stayed silent, she would wave that triumphant card at me.

I swallowed the saliva that rose to my throat.

“This is… thoughtful,” I said.

The word tasted bitter in my mouth, how dare her!

“Thank you.”

Eric laughed again. “See? He loves it.”

Laura smiled sweetly. “I’m glad.”

She reached out and touched my wrist lightly. “I just want you to be happy, Tim.”

Her touch lingered half a second too long, I pulled my hand back and closed the book.

“I appreciate the effort,” I said.

Eric checked his phone. “I’m staying with Laura tonight,” he said. “You okay heading home alone?”

“Yes,” I said quickly, or what else am I going to say? That I wasn't, like he would even abandon his bitch of a girl and come to pick me.

I needed to leave before my face gave me away.

Outside, the rain was already pouring heavily. Cold drops soaked through my clothes within seconds.

I stood under the hospital awning, clutching the stupid book against my chest like it was evidence of something I hadn’t confessed.

I tried to flag a taxi.

Nothing.

I opened my phone, and requested an Uber but it was declined. I made another request, then it was rejected.

I stood under the hospital awning, the rain falling harder by the second. It soaked the ground, splashed against my shoes, ran down the steps like it had somewhere important to be. I didn’t move.

My phone felt heavy in my hand.

I told myself it was just the rain. That anyone would ask for help in weather like this. But the truth sat deeper and hurt more. I didn’t want an umbrella. I wanted Eric to come. I wanted to see his face, to hear his voice, to know that after everything, I still mattered to him.

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen. If I asked and he didn’t reply, I wasn’t sure what would hurt more, the silence, or the confirmation that I was alone.

I typed the message anyway.

Me: It’s raining. Can you bring me an umbrella?

I stared at the screen after sending it, watching the rain blur my reflection, feeling small in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I looked at the screen and there was no reply. A few minutes passed. My shoes filled with water and my wet hair stuck to my forehead and people walked past me, dry and hurried to take shelter

Eric never came.

Who was I even kidding?

Then headlights cut through the rain, a black sleek car pulled up quietly. I watched the man get down with an umbrella, he was wearing black shirt which he rolled up the sleeves to show off a bit of the muscular body under his clothes.

Frank.

He didn’t say anything. He just opened the passenger door, I shook my head.

“I’m waiting for someone,” I said.

The words came out flat, almost automatic. I didn’t look at Frank. I kept my eyes fixed on the hospital doors, my neck stiff, my shoulders tight, like if I moved even a little, something inside me would break.

The rain soaked through my clothes. I was already shaking, but I didn’t step back. I didn’t wipe my face. I just stood there, staring at the glass doors, watching people come and go.

I kept thinking, maybe the next one will be him. Maybe he’s just busy. Maybe he didn’t see the message yet.

But the longer I stood there, the colder I got, and the more I understood what was really happening. He wasn’t coming. Not now. Maybe not at all.

I stayed anyway.

He didn't even budge, just stayed there and stared at me. A slight annoyance flashed in his face before he strode towards me, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me toward the car.

“Frank—”

He didn’t answer. He simply pushed me inside and closed the door.