Novel & Cerita Patience Reward

“Ehm, Patricia? Do me a favour and tell them to wait at the lounge. Thanks.” I disconnected the line. My whole damn body was fighting tooth and nail to stay awake. “Fucking hell— can’t I just go back home already?” I stretched my neck and took a bottle of icy water from the mini fridge. An appreciation gift I got from Delcon Firm two months ago. They were a group of charity people. I received an email— likewise a package. The note said that they loved my ‘Attend to your HEART’ seminar. I scrolled through my phone, checking the time. “Six hours. Only six hours left then i’m fucking home to my Cupcake.”

“We’re going to need all the ambition we can muster to deal with her.” “Consider a night of romance and perversion a reward for your patience.” “I expect a hell of a big reward,” he told her with a wicked grin, then sat down at the table and watched her pour a cup of warm coffee for him. “Then you’d better be extremely patient and very tolerable.”

"I'll wait as long as you nee‍d." I t‌hought ab⁠out the version of mys​elf who had once believed patience was the‌ same thing as love, who had spent five years waiting qu​iet​ly by a⁠ window for a man who meas⁠ured affectio‍n i‍n go​ld wat‌ch‌es and unpaid‍ debts. I⁠ was not that w⁠oman anymore, and I⁠ found, standing there‌ beneath three chandeliers wi‍th‌ the last o‍f the ga⁠la crowd still⁠ murmuring around us, that I no lon‍ger needed to punish him to prove i‌t.

The slow, patient work of time. "The stone is teaching me to be patient," Ember said to Mira one morning, as the sun rose over the towers. Mira sat beside her. "You have always been patient." Ember shook her head. "I have been waiting. There is a difference. Waiting is passive. Patience is active. The stone is teaching me to be present in the waiting." Mira looked at the silver flowers pulsing around them. "The watcher learned that from the stone." Ember smiled. "We are all learning from the stone."

The message sent. I leaned back in my chair, watching the screen fade back into idleness. Somewhere out there, she was sleeping peacefully beside him, not understanding that I had already started moving closer again. I picked up my glass once more, taking another slow sip. And this time, I did smile. Because patience isn’t waiting. It’s timing. And mine is almost perfect.

One of them laughed. "I'm telling you, he does it on purpose." Another employee nodded. "Last month a businessman waited almost six hours." "Six?" "That's nothing. Someone waited all day once." They continued laughing. My steps slowed. "Mr. Moretti likes seeing how badly people want something." The group continued walking away. Meanwhile, I stood frozen. I closed my eyes. Of course he did. Why was I not surprised? The man probably viewed patience as some kind of personality test. I sighed deeply.

The third was larger still. He reinvested everything. He lived — the flat was small, his needs were minimal, the habits of restraint formed over years of having nothing were not easily unlearned, and he saw no reason to unlearn them. Money accumulated not because he was hoarding it but because he was building with it, and building required patience and the willingness to defer gratification in the service of something larger. This can motivate the audience to see patience and reinvestment as essential for lasting wealth.

Waiting to see. if we would answer again. ✨

Not breaking. Waiting.