Gemotions

The waiting room was sterile, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic. Sarah clutched her worn copy of *Pride and Prejudice*, her knuckles white. A man across from her shifted in his seat, and their eyes met for a long moment. It was a look of shared anxiety, a recognition of an unseen burden.

He offered a weak smile. “Rough day?”

Sarah chuckled, a nervous sound. “You too?”

“Just waiting for… results,” he admitted.

She nodded in understanding. “Me too.”

He began to ask about her life, a comforting distraction from their common fate. They spoke of the small details of their lives: their families, their dreams, their daily routines. Sarah felt a profound sense of connection with him, a deep-seated happiness that made the sterile room feel less bleak. She found herself wishing they could keep talking forever.