
He never even knew my name until one day, he did. Suddenly, the most charismatic man in the office was everywhere, flashing his perfect smile and asking me out. But why now? Something didn’t add up. And when I finally discovered the reason, it shattered me.
When no one notices you, at first, it hurts. You try to change the situation. Then, you accept it. And eventually, you even find an advantage in it.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
That day, I sat at my desk, watching as my male colleagues swarmed around our new coworker, Claire.
She was obviously attractive, so their reaction wasn’t surprising. But when Mark approached her, the others quickly backed off.
I let out a quiet chuckle as I watched. Mark was the most handsome and charismatic man in the office—I was convinced even other men wouldn’t mind if he took them to bed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He flirted with Claire, and she giggled at his jokes, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her finger.
At that moment, Anthony, my boss, approached me. “Sara, do you remember our new project?” he asked, glancing at the laptop screen in front of me.
“Yes, of course. I’m leading it,” I replied, adjusting my glasses.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I’m counting on you,” Anthony said with a nod, his tone full of expectation.
I worked at an IT company, and we were launching a new dating app. Anthony had chosen me to lead the project because, no matter how unnoticeable I was, my work results were the best.
He had also offered me an opportunity to work abroad at one of our other branches, but I declined, even though the salary would have been much higher.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
During lunch, I noticed an irritated Mark walking up to Anthony. Curious about what had upset our golden boy this time, I decided to eavesdrop.
“Who did you assign the dating app to?” Mark asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
“Sara. Is there a problem?” Anthony replied, sounding amused.
“Sara? We don’t have anyone by that name,” Mark scoffed, and I felt my jaw tighten.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“She’s sitting right over there,” Anthony said, pointing at me. I continued pretending not to hear them, keeping my eyes fixed on my screen.
“I thought I’d be handling the dating app. This isn’t fair,” Mark protested, folding his arms across his chest.
“To my office. Now,” Anthony ordered.
I finished my lunch just in time to see Mark walking out of Anthony’s office, looking pleased with himself.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I had no idea what they had discussed, but no one had told me I was off the project, so I remained calm, though a tiny seed of doubt had been planted in my mind.
The next day, Mark approached me with his signature smile, hovering over my desk like a shadow. I gave him a questioning look.
“Sonia…” he began, leaning in slightly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Sara,” I corrected him, not bothering to hide my irritation.
“Right. Sara.” He chuckled, as if amused by his own mistake. “Want to grab lunch together?” he asked, his voice dripping with casual charm.
“I already ate,” I replied flatly, typing away at my keyboard.
“Then how about a drink after work?” he suggested, tilting his head.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I turned to face him. “You didn’t even know my name a minute ago. I bet you didn’t even know I worked here,” I said, recalling his conversation with Anthony. “What’s this really about?”
“I just thought it’d be nice to hang out with a lovely colleague,” Mark said smoothly, flashing that infamous smirk that made other women melt.
I scoffed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun,” he insisted, his persistence almost amusing.
“I have a lot of work,” I said, turning back to my computer.
Mark lingered for a moment before sighing and walking away, but I could feel his eyes on me for a few seconds longer than necessary.
As usual, I stayed late at the office. But when I finally looked up from my screen, I was surprised to see Mark still there. Normally, by the time I finished, the office was empty.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I stood up, gathered my things, and headed to the elevator. Mark did the same. He followed me, and the whole thing felt strange.
We stepped into the elevator, and it started moving. Then, suddenly, it stopped.
“What’s going on? Are we stuck?” I asked, pressing a few buttons.
“Looks like it,” Mark replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I pressed the emergency button and explained the situation. The response came: we’d have to wait about two hours.
Mark sighed and sat on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him. After a moment, I did the same.
“So, tell me about yourself,” he said, tilting his head toward me.
“What?” I chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“What’s funny?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.
“Come on, I’ve worked here for years, and most people don’t even know I exist. Why the sudden interest?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“I’m just curious,” he said, shrugging.
“Then why don’t you tell me about yourself?” I countered, narrowing my eyes.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, please. You probably know everything about me already,” Mark smirked. “Everyone does.”
That made me laugh again. “That confidence.”
“What? Is that a bad thing?” he asked, grinning.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“No, not if it’s real. But being invisible has given me an advantage—I notice things. And you, Mark, are nothing but an act. A performer trying to mask his insecurities with fake confidence. So what’s behind all of it? Daddy issues? Mommy didn’t pay attention to you?” I asked, leaning back against the wall.
“Oh, screw you,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.
We sat in silence for a while until Mark finally spoke again.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“My dad left us when I was three. My mom raised me alone. Then, when I was a teenager, he suddenly came back and tried to mold me into his perfect son. I guess I’m still trying to prove something to him,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual.
“I get it,” I said, my voice softer now.
Mark looked at me curiously.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“My mom left us. My dad raised me alone. But she never came back. The last time I saw her, I was thirteen. She told me she was ashamed I was her daughter because, at my age, she had been way more popular,” I said, my throat tightening slightly at the memory.
“She’s an idiot,” Mark said, shaking his head. “I asked Anthony about you. You have the best results in the company. I thought I did. And you’re beautiful, even if your lack of confidence hides it.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Guess everyone copes with trauma differently,” I said, managing a small smile.
“Guess so,” Mark replied.
Just then, the elevator started moving again. When we stepped out, Mark grabbed my wrist.
“How about that drink now?” he asked, his voice gentler than before.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“If you’re going to be the guy from the elevator, then fine. But if you’re putting the mask back on, I’ll pass,” I said, tilting my head slightly.
“I’ll try to be myself,” Mark promised.
And so, we went to a bar. Then the next day. And the next. Before I knew it, we were spending time together every day—even on weekends.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I saw a different side of Mark. The real him. The one who was afraid of spiders and teared up when a dog died in a movie.
One evening, I couldn’t resist anymore—I kissed him. And the moment I did, I knew it was right. With him, I felt like myself.
One day at the office, I stood outside Anthony’s office and heard voices inside. I hadn’t planned to listen, but I couldn’t help it.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I told you—I know how to win someone over,” Mark said.
“I didn’t think Sara would fall for it. But you win—the dating app project is yours,” Anthony replied.
“Thanks, but—” Mark started, but I wasn’t listening anymore.
I turned and rushed to the bathroom, locked the door, and leaned against it. My breath came in quick, uneven bursts. My hands shook. Tears slid down my face before I could stop them.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He had lied. He had tricked me to take my job. Every moment we had spent together had been a performance. And I was the fool who believed it. Worse—I had started falling for him.
I forced myself to breathe. I couldn’t fall apart now. Not over him.
I wiped my face, fixed my makeup, and straightened my blazer. Then, I walked straight to Anthony’s office.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, Sara, I was just about to talk to you,” he said, looking up from his desk.
“I’d like to accept your offer to work abroad. If it’s still available,” I said, keeping my voice steady.
“It is. What changed your mind?” Anthony asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You were right—there are more opportunities for me there,” I said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He studied me for a moment. “When can you leave?”
“Tomorrow,” I replied.
“Tomorrow? Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Alright, I’ll make the arrangements. You can take the rest of the day off to pack.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I thanked him and walked out. My hands clenched around my bag. I saw Mark heading toward me.
I didn’t slow down. I grabbed my things and stepped into the elevator before he could reach me.
By morning, I was in a taxi headed to the airport. Music played in my headphones, drowning everything else out.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I watched the city blur past. Then, in my window, I saw Mark’s car pull up alongside mine.
He motioned for me to roll down the window. I ignored him. He honked. Annoyed, I lowered it.
“What? Are you here to tell me more lies?” I shouted.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I know about your deal with Anthony. If I fell for you, you’d get the dating app project,” I said.
“No—I mean, yes, that was the deal. But not anymore. Everything changed when I started spending time with you,” Mark said.
“More lies! I can’t believe I fell for you, that I even started to have feelings for you!” I yelled.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Really?” Mark asked.
I just rolled up the window and turned away.
A second later, he swerved his car in front of mine, blocking the road. My taxi and other cars behind us came to a halt, their horns blaring in frustration.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
It was chaos. Mark hurried over, pulled open my door, and looked at me desperately.
“Listen to me,” he said. “I turned down the dating app project.”
“Don’t lie,” I said, stepping out of the taxi.
“I’m not lying. It’s the truth,” he insisted. “Please, don’t go.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“And why is that?” I asked.
“Because you’re the only person I can be real with. The only one I don’t have to pretend around,” Mark said. “That’s why I won’t let you get on that damn plane.”
“No one asked for your opinion,” I said.
“I’m falling for you too, Sara. Please,” he begged.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My mind screamed at me to get back in the taxi, go to the airport, and forget Mark.
But my heart had already decided. My feet moved before I could stop them, bringing me closer to him. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
“I see you, Sara. And I will never let you feel invisible again,” Mark whispered before kissing me again.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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I Was Looking At a Photo of My Late Wife and Me When Something Fell Out of the Frame and Made Me Go Pale

The day I buried Emily, all I had left were our photos and memories. But when something slipped from behind our engagement picture that night, my hands started shaking. What I discovered made me question if I’d ever really known my wife at all.
The funeral home had tied a black ribbon on our front door. I stared at it, my key suspended in the lock, wondering who’d thought that was necessary.

A black ribbon attached to a doorknob | Source: Midjourney
As if the neighbors didn’t already know that I’d been at the cemetery all afternoon, watching them lower my wife into the ground while Rev. Matthews talked about angels and eternal rest.
My hands shook as I finally got the door open. The house smelled wrong — like leather polish and sympathy casseroles.
Emily’s sister Jane had “helped” by cleaning while I was at the hospital during those final days. Now everything gleamed with an artificial brightness that made my teeth hurt.

A home entrance hallway | Source: Pexels
“Home sweet home, right, Em?” I called out automatically, then caught myself. The silence that answered felt like a physical blow.
I loosened my tie, the blue one Emily had bought me last Christmas, and kicked off my dress shoes. They hit the wall with dull thuds.
Emily would have scolded me for that, pressing her lips together in the way she had, trying not to smile while she lectured me about scuff marks.

A heartbroken man looking down | Source: Midjourney
“Sorry, honey,” I muttered, but I left the shoes where they lay.
Our bedroom was worse than the rest of the house. Jane had changed the sheets — probably trying to be kind — but the fresh linen smell just emphasized that Emily’s scent was gone.
The bed was made with hospital corners, every wrinkle smoothed away, erasing the casual mess that had been our life together.
“This isn’t real,” I said to the empty room. “This can’t be real.”

A bedroom | Source: Pexels
But it was. The sympathy cards on the dresser proved it, as did the pills on the nightstand that hadn’t been enough to save her in the end.
It had all happened so suddenly. Em got sick last year, but she fought it. Chemotherapy took an immense toll on her, but I was there to support her every step of the way. The cancer eventually went into remission.
We thought we’d won. Then a check-up showed it was back, and it was everywhere.

A couple staring grimly at each other | Source: Midjourney
Em fought like a puma right up until the end, but… but it was a losing battle. I could see that now.
I fell onto her side of the bed, not bothering to change out of my funeral clothes. The mattress didn’t even hold her shape anymore. Had Jane flipped it? The thought made me irrationally angry.
“Fifteen years,” I whispered into Emily’s pillow. “Fifteen years, and this is how it ends? A ribbon on the door and casseroles in the fridge?”

A heartbroken man | Source: Midjourney
My eyes landed on our engagement photo, the silver frame catching the late afternoon light. Emily looked so alive in it, her yellow sundress bright against the summer sky, her laugh caught mid-burst as I spun her around.
I grabbed it, needing to be closer to that moment and the joy we both felt then.
“Remember that day, Em? You said the camera would capture our souls. Said that’s why you hated having your picture taken, because—”
My fingers caught on something behind the frame.

A man holding a photo | Source: Midjourney
There was a bump under the backing that shouldn’t have been there.
I traced it again, frowning. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I pried the backing loose. Something slipped out, floating to the carpet like a fallen leaf.
My heart stopped.
It was another photograph, old and slightly curved as if it had been handled often before being hidden away.

A stunned man | Source: Midjourney
In the photo, Emily (God, she looked so young) was sitting in a hospital bed, cradling a newborn wrapped in a pink blanket.
Her face was different than I’d ever seen it: exhausted, and scared, but with a fierce love that took my breath away.
I couldn’t understand what I was looking at. Although we tried, Emily and I were never able to have kids, so whose baby was this?

A confused man | Source: Midjourney
With trembling fingers, I turned the photo over. Emily’s handwriting, but shakier than I knew it: “Mama will always love you.”
Below that was a phone number.
“What?” The word came out as a croak. “Emily, what is this?”
There was only one way to find out.

A thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney
The phone felt heavy in my hand as I dialed, not caring that it was nearly midnight. Each ring echoed in my head like a church bell.
“Hello?” A woman answered, her voice warm but cautious.
“I’m sorry for calling so late.” My voice sounded strange to my ears. “My name is James. I… I just found a photograph of my wife Emily with a baby, and this number…”
The silence stretched so long I thought she’d hung up.

A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
“Oh,” she finally said, so softly I almost missed it. “Oh, James. I’ve been waiting for this call for years. It’s been ages since Emily got in touch.”
“Emily died.” The words tasted like ashes. “The funeral was today.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked with genuine grief. “I’m Sarah. I… I adopted Emily’s daughter, Lily.”
The room tilted sideways. I gripped the edge of the bed. “Daughter?”

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“She was nineteen,” Sarah explained gently. “A freshman in college. She knew she couldn’t give the baby the life she deserved. It was the hardest decision she ever made.”
“We tried for years to have children,” I said, anger suddenly blazing through my grief. “Years of treatments, specialists, disappointments. She never said a word about having a baby before me. Never.”
“She was terrified,” Sarah said. “Terrified you’d judge her, terrified you’d leave. She loved you so much, James. Sometimes love makes us do impossible things.”

A man on a phone call | Source: Midjourney
I closed my eyes, remembering her tears during fertility treatments, and how she’d grip my hand too tight whenever we passed playgrounds.
I’d assumed it was because we were both so desperate to have a child, but now I wondered how much of that came from longing for the daughter she gave up.
“Tell me about her,” I heard myself say. “Tell me about Lily.”

A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
Sarah’s voice brightened. “She’s twenty-five now. A kindergarten teacher, if you can believe it. She has Emily’s laugh, her way with people. She’s always known she was adopted, and she knows about Emily. Would… would you like to meet her?”
“Of course!” I replied.
The next morning, I sat in a corner booth at a café, too nervous to touch my coffee. The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up.
It was like being punched in the chest.

A man in a coffeeshop | Source: Midjourney
She had Emily’s eyes and her smile. She even tucked her hair behind her ear like Em would’ve as she scanned the room. When our gazes met, we both knew.
“James?” Her voice wavered.
I stood, nearly knocking over my chair. “Lily.”
She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around me like she’d been waiting her whole life to do it. I held her close, breathing in the scent of her shampoo — lavender, just like Emily’s had been.

Two people hugging | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered against my shoulder. “When Mom called this morning… I’ve always wondered about you, about what kind of man my mother married.”
We spent hours talking. She showed me pictures on her phone of her college graduation, her first classroom, and her cat. I told her stories about Emily, our life together, and the woman her mother became.
“She used to send Mom birthday cards for me every year,” Lily revealed, wiping tears from her eyes.

A woman in a coffeeshop smiling sadly | Source: Midjourney
“We never spoke, but Mom told me she used to call now and then to ask how I was doing.”
Looking at this beautiful, brilliant young woman who had Emily’s kindness shining in her eyes, I began to understand Emily’s secret differently.
It wasn’t just shame or fear that had kept her quiet. She’d been protecting Lily by letting her have a safe, stable life with Sarah. It must have hurt Em deeply to keep this secret, but she’d done it out of love for her child.

A thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney
“I wish I’d known sooner,” I said, reaching for Lily’s hand. “But I think I understand why she never told me. I’m so sorry you can’t get to know her, but I want you to know, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”
Lily squeezed my fingers. “Do you think… could we maybe do this again? Get to know each other better?”
“I’d like that,” I said, feeling something warm bloom in my chest for the first time since Emily’s death. “I’d like that very much.”

A man smiling in a coffeeshop | Source: Midjourney
That night, I placed the hidden photo next to our engagement picture on the nightstand.
Emily smiled at me from both frames — young and old, before and after, always with love in her eyes. I touched her face through the glass.
“You did good, Em,” I whispered. “You did real good. And I promise you, I’ll do right by her. By both of you.”
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