Those Who Wait Book Novels & Stories

Every tick of the clock felt like a countdown. ! I sat there, waiting, my fingers gripping the edge of the table so tight they hurt. Daniel didn’t speak again. He just stood there, watching the door like a guard waiting for a signal. The storm outside rumbled, lightning flashing faintly through the fogged glass. I took a shaky breath, my heart pounding. Whoever he was waiting for… whoever wanted to talk to me… they hadn’t arrived yet. And all I could do was sit there, waiting for the door to open.

As if waiting. Waiting for me to open it fully. Waiting for the next storm to begin.

ANISA. I blinked once, twice. Then squeezed my eyes tightly shut and waited. But as the stillness continued to stretch with each passing second, I knew nothing had happened. At least not yet. Maybe I need to wait a little longer first. So, I kept my eyes shut. Waiting. Waiting for a light, or perhaps, a certain flash that would indicate I had left the book and was back in my real world. I waited for any slight sign that would show the rejection had worked, and I had safely returned home.

"Madam Lu is waiting for ……….. (Read the next chapter)

and informed her that I was eagerly awaiting her arrival. Taking a seat at an empty table, I observed the bustling cafe. A waitress approached, inquiring if I desired anything in particular. Politely declining, I informed her that I was simply waiting for someone. Time seemed to stretch on as I anxiously awaited Rachel's arrival, my impulsive nature growing restless. I couldn't help but wonder why women always seemed to keep others waiting.

"Mr. Johnson, who's Mr. Rivera asking you to check on? Maybe I know them." "Oh, right. You're all from Walden College. It's a woman whose name is Rowena Colson." He even helpfully flipped the printed photo over for me to see. The young woman in the image wore a pale layer of powder, but a dark birthmark clung to her skin like a monstrous claw, impossible to ignore. Ewan was looking for me! The thought lodged in my chest like a thorn, making me increasingly uneasy. So, when I was called into Ewan's office the following noon, I was still a little out of it. While I made his coffee, I could feel the chill in his gaze, threaded with heavy scrutiny.

He had never seen Olliver talk to anyone like that before ever. "I did wait. But it was painful to watch you pretending to jot down and work on something that I know would take at least another thirty-four hours." The stranger said, surprising Smith once again. How did this man know what they were working on and how long they had to wait for any reaction? "It's called getting accurate details throughout the experiment. Of course, you wouldn't know anything about that since you barely ever walk out of your office. You might get fat very soon if don't watch out…"

"Alpha Marcus. Healer Quinn is waiting for you upstairs." Julian watched them. His whole world spun. That man had the VIP pass Julian was dying for. That man could just walk right in. To see his Harper. Raw jealousy, sharp as snake fangs, sank into his heart. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. Blood welled from his palms, dripping like scarlet petals onto the perfect white snow. Hours ticked by. Alpha Marcus didn't come out. Julian spotted them laughing together in the lobby. Despair and rage boiled inside him. He was losing his damn mind.

Cloe looked at the paperback, at its plain cover, at the particular humbleness of something that had been made without expectation of being found, the way all the most important things in this story had been made. “She wrote it down,” Dave said softly. “She couldn’t explain it so she wrote it down. The same way Mabel wrote the journal. The same way Agnes wrote the letters.” He picked up the book carefully. “She was doing her version of what they did. Keeping the truth alive in whatever form she had available.” “She’s been waiting,” Sophia said. “She just didn’t know what she was waiting for.” “None of them ever do,” Dave said. “That’s the whole pattern. The waiting happens first. The underst

I am a person who is going to wait. I am a person who is going to wait, and I am going to wait, and I am going to wait, until the man I love comes home and says the thing he wrote on the sticky note, in the way that men say things out loud to women they love when the men are ready to say the things out loud. I am a person who is going to wait. To be continued...