The Waiting Room Novel Novels & Stories

Neither of them moved far from their seats. Lily noticed things in fragments: the scuffed floor beneath her shoes, the quiet hum of vending machines, the way Aaron’s thumb traced slow circles against her knuckles whenever her breathing hitched. She realized, dimly, that he hadn’t left her side once. Not to make a call. Not to sit elsewhere. Not to escape the waiting. Her mind drifted to another hospital. Another waiting room. Another young person left behind while the world continued moving cruelly forward. She looked at Aaron—really looked at him now.

"I'll take you to the waiting room." The waiting room was beige and fluorescent and smelled like hospitals smelled everywhere, antiseptic and recycled air and the specific weight of people sitting with things they couldn't fix. She sat in a chair near the window. Called Elias. Nothing. She sat with the phone in her lap and the city dark outside the waiting room window and thought about Marcus. She'd asked about him when she came in. The woman had looked at her with the careful face again. She understood what the careful face meant.

“They’re nicer than you.” The doors slammed shut. ***** The waiting room was purgatory. Plastic chairs, coffee that tasted like asphalt, a TV on mute looping some mindless talk show. I paced instead of sitting, my footsteps echoing in the sterile air. Every time the doors swished open, my chest jerked, expecting her, needing her. Minutes blurred into hours—or maybe it was only twenty minutes. I couldn’t tell. A man in scrubs finally came out. He wasn’t the doctor, just a resident, probably younger than me. His expression neutral. Too neutral.

On the inside, the place wasn’t as basic and mysterious, and carried a much greater note of hope and comfort. The faint smell of antiseptic clung to the air, but the beautiful plants and flowers meticulously placed all over the waiting area took away from the assault on my senses. Some elderly residents were wheeled about in wheelchairs, the waiting area was full of people whispering to each other and I could hear the faint babble of TVs all around. I stepped up to the register and greeted the woman standing there. “I’m here to see Da’ana Warner,” I said.

“You heard her at breakfast. I’m certain she’s already picked out everything—including the dress. What makes you think she would keep this a secret?” “You’re right,” I said, glancing at the waiting room. Something wasn’t right. The medical facility usually had at least three people in the waiting room at any given time, but it was entirely devoid of life. Melody’s words were like a warning to my heart. “It feels like we’re walking into a zombie movie,” I mumbled as I wrapped my arms around Cillian’s and held him close to me. The sound of my shoes squeaking on the tile floor grated on my ears as we moved toward the reception area. Not even a whisper carried over the drone of the industrial ai

Abby POV The waiting room outside Director Adkins’ office felt like a cage, the air heavy with the scent of polished wood and stale coffee. I sat between Ava and Terence, my hands twisting in my lap, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to anchor myself against the storm of thoughts swirling in my head.

I strolled around the room, thinking hard. By the second lap around the long table, I noticed the side door had been left ajar. That stopped me short. Maybe he was waiting for me at the next room? I approached the door and tried to see what was on the other side without touching it. It looked like a small waiting room, and it was completely quiet. Right across that waiting room, I saw a couch against a glass wall by a closed door. Massive blinds covered the glass wall, but they weren’t closed. My eyes needed a minute to grasp the scene unfolding in the large office behind the blinds.

“We need to operate immediately. Please wait here.” I nodded numbly and let them take him. The waiting room was cold and smelled like antiseptic. I stood in the middle of it, arms wrapped tightly around myself, too restless to sit, too exhausted to cry. My legs felt like jelly, my heart like it had been shoved through a paper shredder. I paced back and forth, chewing the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. Every second felt like an eternity. Oh God… please. Don’t take him. Don’t do this to me again.

POV: Yessica | Location: Edinburgh The waiting room smelled like antiseptic and stale coffee. Yessica sat in a plastic NHS chair, hands folded over her stomach, trying not to look at the couples around her. Every other woman had someone. A partner squeezing her hand. A mother flipping through a magazine. A friend making jokes about swollen ankles. Yessica had a canvas tote bag and a number. Forty-seven. She counted floor tiles until they called her name.

"It looks like they're just finishing up with a client now. If you'll have a seat, they'll see you promptly afterwards. Can I get you something to drink while you wait?" "Yeah, a bottle of whiskey would be wonderful", I thought inwardly but i shook my head and walked away from the tall desk on shaky legs and headed for the leather chairs doting the waiting room. The place seriously screamed class; I had never been in a place this nice before. I wonder what their homes look like if just their waiting room looked like this. And of course, that brought dark thoughts about how I would fit into their life. I was the farthest thing away from class and money and I didn't know how I would fit into t