Just You Wait Book Romane & Geschichten

I love you. I had spent years of my life desperately waiting to hear those exact words. I had waited for them on those dark nights when the electricity was cut off in our tiny rented apartment. I had waited for them when my back was peeling from hauling heavy freight at the warehouse, in so much pain I couldn't straighten my spine. I had waited for them when I stared down at that slice of mango cake at the celebratory dinner. And I had even waited for them the exact moment that HR disciplinary notice was blasted out to the entire company.

All I can do is wait and wait until Liam does send me a message. I reach for my book on the bedside cabinet, I’m an avid reader but tonight I open it up and just stare at the pages. So unlike me, especially when it’s the a Colleen Hoover like this one is. Really, I’m not even able to focus on the words, they’re swimming in front of my eyes. Perhaps I ought to swap to an audio book, that might soothe me whilst I wait.

"The plum blossoms wait for spring, enduring the frost in silence." God, I want to die. I clear my throat, stalling. “Uh, yeah. So… the poet is, like, really into waiting for spring.” Silence. I push forward. “You know… waiting for life to get better. Or whatever.” More silence. The weight of it crushes me. Wright tilts his head just slightly, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat against the spine of his book. A predator assessing its prey. "That’s it?"

Inside is a letter from a woman named Maya. She writes: "I was in a hospital waiting room three weeks ago. My boyfriend had put me there. I was waiting for test results on my arm, which he had broken. I had a book with me that someone had lent to me. Your book. I read the entire thing in one sitting in that hospital waiting room. I cried through chapter seven. I recognized myself in every word you wrote about being afraid and being in love and being trapped in the same person simultaneously.

He was the top student at Sterling High School, a very outstanding guy. What hurt him most was that the girl he liked really liked that other boy. Year after year, Luther kept telling himself to let her go, that they would never be together in this lifetime. Still, he could not accept it. He had met her first, after all. Like holding a one-way ticket that would never reach its destination, Luther waited for eight years. The pain of longing even drove him to pray at churches again and again. He only wanted one chance, one opportunity to stand before her openly and proudly.

His lashes long and dark against his cheeks, one tiny hand clutching the edge of her sleeve as if afraid to drift too far. Daniel sat on the floor beside her, back against the crib. His shoulder brushed her knee, and Theodore’s head rested against her chest as he floated between waking and dreams. In Sophia’s hands lay a book. Not just any book — their book. Handmade. Bound in soft leather. The title pressed in delicate gold script: The Girl Who Waited, and the Man Who Finally Found Her. She turned the first page and began to read, her voice warm and low, colored with memory.

My boyfriend never stayed up late, yet he pulled an all-nighter just to watch the sunrise with my best friend. He insisted it was for work and told me to stop overthinking it. Felix Grant and I had been together for seven years, but I never knew where I stood with him. I stuck with him when he had nothing and helped him build his company from scratch. But in all those years, he'd never spent more than a hundred dollars on a gift for me. He said having money didn't mean we should start wasting it. So I limited myself to less than a thousand dollars a month. Then he spent a fortune at an auction on a necklace just to make Gracie smile. My eyes stung with anger. "Lixi, how is this fair?" He fro

"I’ll do them. Just let me finish this client thing. Deadline tonight." "Chore chart said Monday." "I know. But can it wait an hour?" Something in me snapped. Not about dishes. About 4 months of me waiting. Waiting in hallways. Waiting for court. Waiting to feel safe. "It can always wait an hour" I said. "With you." *THE FIGHT* 6:20 PM - 6:40 PM His face changed. "What’s that supposed to mean?" "It means I’m always the one who waits."

Knowing that I would be dedicating the entire day to clean my messy apartment. --- Before I knew it half the apartment was clean, glancing at the time I decided it was time for some food but I couldn't decide what I wanted for lunch. Between having a roll with ham, lettuce, and butter or simply having some leftover pizza from the night before. I opted rather than making more dishes for myself I could just warm the remaining three slices in the box. While waiting for the food to warm up I looked towards the window. I've grown accustomed to the noise from the morning rush, it had become somewhat calming. Lost in thought I hadn't realized the food was warm. Turning towards the counter suddenly

And waits. The debt can wait. The fight can wait. Everything can wait. For four years and nine months. Then the real story begins. END OF PART ONE