The Unseen Thread

Chapter-1

The sound of wedding bells clashed cruelly with the breaking of her heart.

She stood amidst a crowd clad in silks and sequins, their faces glowing with joy, while hers was frozen in disbelief. The lights were dazzling, the air thick with the scent of roses and incense, but none of it could distract her from the sight that tore her world apart.

The man she had loved for over five years, the one she had dreamt of building a life with—the one she believed would be hers forever—was now standing on the wedding stage. But not with her.

He was smiling, his eyes soft with affection. But those eyes weren’t looking at her. They were gazing at another woman—the bride. Not her. Never her.

She wasn’t the one in the red bridal lehenga.

She wasn’t the one he had chosen.

She was just... a guest. Or worse, a mistake.

It felt like the floor beneath her had disappeared. Like someone had quietly pulled the earth from under her feet and left her floating in a dark void of nothingness.

Her hands trembled as her heart pounded painfully inside her chest. This can’t be real, she kept telling herself. Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe he’ll look at me. Maybe he’ll explain. But deep inside, she knew the truth.

There was no mistake.

He had chosen someone else.

And she? She had never been chosen.

With a heart heavy as stone, she turned and walked out—away from the music, away from the laughter, away from the betrayal that suffocated her in that decorated prison of lies.

The night was quiet, as if the world had silenced itself in respect for her heartbreak. She wandered to the beach, barefoot, not caring about the sand sticking to her feet or the chill of the wind brushing against her bare arms. The moon cast a pale silver glow across the waves, and the ocean roared like it understood her pain.

She stood at the edge of the shore, arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold together the pieces of her shattered soul.

She tried not to cry. Tried to be strong.

But her eyes betrayed her.

The tears fell silently, tracing paths down her cheeks, each droplet holding the weight of memories she wished she could forget.

Her voice was no more than a whisper, a broken murmur lost in the wind.

“Is this new to me? No… it’s not.”

Her lips trembled. Her body shook—not from the cold, but from everything she had held inside for too long.

“Even God can’t bear to see me happy.”

She sank to her knees, the wet sand clinging to her clothes, and sobbed freely. Not just for him, but for everything.

“For my brother… who left me when I needed him the most.”

“For my parents… who died and left me in this cruel world alone.”

“For my best friend… who promised to never leave but disappeared without a word.”

“And now… him. The one I believed in. The one who swore he loved me.”

She buried her face in her hands. “Everyone leaves. Everyone betrays. No one loves me. Not even God.”

But this wasn’t the first time she had felt unloved.

She knew that ache. She had grown up with it.

She was just eight when the world decided she wasn’t meant to have a family. Her parents died in a car crash, and her brother—too young, too scared—vanished into the system, swallowed by another fate. She ended up at St. Agnes Orphanage, a cold building filled with too many children and too little love.

There were nights she cried herself to sleep, clutching the torn photograph of her parents. Nights she promised herself that she would grow stronger. That one day, someone would stay.

And she had kept her promises. She had worked harder than anyone. Pushed through loneliness, rejection, and heartbreak. She became a doctor—one of the best residents at Hopewell General Hospital. Her dedication was unmatched, her smile gentle, her heart pure.

At twenty-five, she was known for her sweet nature, innocent eyes, and soft-spoken kindness. Patients adored her. Colleagues respected her.

But no one ever truly loved her.

That’s all she had ever wanted.

Not riches. Not fame.

Just love. A hand to hold. A voice that said, “I’m here for you.”

Her fingers dug into the sand as the tide rolled closer, brushing against her knees. She stared at the horizon, where the stars kissed the ocean.

The pain inside her burned like fire, but beneath the ashes… something else stirred.

Not hope. Not yet. But maybe... a decision.

She stood up, brushing the sand from her clothes. Her tears had dried, but the hollow ache in her chest remained.

With quiet steps, she made her way back. Not to her apartment. Not to the hospital.

But to St. Agnes Orphanage—the place that had once been her prison and her only refuge.

It stood exactly as she remembered—old, silent, still carrying the faint scent of childhood memories and bitter truths.