Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Marcus’s back as he waited, the sterile air of the hospital room thickening with each passing moment. He chewed nervously on his lip, the metallic taste of anxiety filling his mouth. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor was a relentless drumbeat, counting down to something he didn't want to hear. He felt a profound discomfort in the pit of his stomach. It was like a knot, twisting tighter and tighter.

He saw her across the room. She was young, maybe mid-twenties, and she had that same haunted look. He knew it well. The giveaway: the subtle tremor in her hands as she scrolled through her phone. He knew they were both here for the same reason.

He finally gave in to his impulse, walking over to her. “This waiting,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “it’s terrible, isn’t it?”