I never cared for romance. It always seemed like a fantasy, something that belonged in movies, not real life. But then the gifts started arriving—flowers, chocolates, even books I had wanted. No name, no clues. Just a secret admirer who knew too much. Someone was watching. But who? And why?
To be honest, I was never the romantic type. It had always been that way. Ever since my teenage years, I never understood why everyone was so obsessed with romantic comedies.
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The grand gestures, the dramatic confessions, the over-the-top happy endings—it all felt staged, unrealistic.
Love didn’t work like that in real life. At least, that’s what I believed. Yet, someone decided to prove me wrong.
One day, I arrived at work, juggling my coffee and bag, only to freeze at my desk.
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A massive bouquet of flowers sat there, bright and overwhelming. A note was attached.
My heart pounded as I unfolded it, hoping for a name. But all it said was, “Your smile brightens my days.”
“Did anyone see who brought this bouquet?” I asked, holding up the note.
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Robert looked up from his computer. “No. I was the first one here. It was already on your desk when I arrived.” His usual warm smile made me trust him.
Robert was my favorite coworker. He was kind, thoughtful, and always had my back.
“Wow,” Brian said from across the room. “Someone actually noticed you exist.”
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I rolled my eyes. Brian was my least favorite coworker. Brian never missed a chance to annoy me.
Since my first day at the office, he had made it his mission to get on my nerves.
“Do you have to be like that?” Robert asked, shaking his head. “Jealous the bouquet isn’t for you?”
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Brian smirked. “Oh, look at our knight in shining armor.” He walked off before I could reply.
“Thanks,” I said to Robert.
“Always happy to help,” he said, winking.
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I smiled, pushed the flowers aside, and turned on my computer. Work had to come first.
The thing was, Robert, Brian, and I were each working on a project for the company, but only one of us would receive funding.
Winning meant recognition, respect, and career growth. Losing meant months of effort wasted. I figured that was why Brian had been even more unbearable lately.
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He thrived on competition and loved getting under my skin. This was a battle, and in battles, anything was fair game.
I couldn’t let him—or even Robert—win. I was one of the only women in the company, and I had worked hard to get here.
If my project got funded, it would prove I belonged, that I was just as good—no, better—than the men.
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But then, there were the gifts. The gifts from my secret admirer didn’t stop—they kept arriving almost daily.
At first, I didn’t mind. A bouquet one day, chocolates the next. Then, candy and books—ones I had wanted but never mentioned aloud, at least not that I remembered.
That’s when it stopped feeling sweet and started feeling… unsettling. I wasn’t the kind of person to daydream about romance.
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I didn’t swoon over mystery admirers. I analyzed, questioned, doubted. How did this person know so much about me?
Someone was watching. Someone knew my habits, my preferences. I wasn’t flattered. I was scared.
“You must be happy to have a secret admirer,” Robert said one day, leaning back in his chair.
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“Honestly, it freaks me out,” I admitted.
Robert raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. It’s sweet.”
I shook my head. “Not so sure about that.”
Brian, who had been eavesdropping, smirked. “Right. It’s probably some psycho who’s going to be waiting outside the office one day to get rid of you.”
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I grabbed a pencil and threw it at him. “Only a sick idiot like you would do that.”
Brian dodged it easily. “Touched a nerve?”
I turned back to my work, pushing away the anxious thoughts. My head was already spinning from this project.
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I just wanted to get it over with. The presentation wasn’t until February 14th. Ironic, wasn’t it?
Brian wasn’t done. He strolled over and glanced at my computer screen. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I turned the monitor away from him. “Stop snooping. You probably just want to steal my idea.”
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“My idea is way better,” Brian said, crossing his arms.
“Sure,” I said, dripping with sarcasm.
Brian rolled his eyes and walked away.
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I sighed and reached for my paper cup, but it was empty. “I really need to buy a water bottle. I’m tired of constantly running to the cooler,” I muttered to myself.
The next morning, when I arrived at work, a sleek new water bottle sat on my desk.
A note was attached. “So you don’t have to keep running to the cooler.” I froze.
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What the…?
Someone had overheard me. Someone from this office.
“Want to grab lunch together?” Robert asked, appearing beside me.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, distracted.
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“Nice bottle,” he said, pointing at it.
“Yeah,” I murmured, picking it up.
“You don’t seem too happy about it. Didn’t you want one?” Robert asked, watching me closely.
I nodded, but my mind kept racing. Something didn’t feel right. Then, it clicked. It was Robert. Robert was my secret admirer.
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He sat next to me every day, close enough to hear my offhand comments. He knew my favorite things.
He had always been kind, always supportive. Who else could it be? It made perfect sense.
I wanted to ask him about it, to confirm my theory. But the presentation was too important.
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I couldn’t let myself get distracted now. My focus had to stay on my project.
On February 14th, we finally presented. The conference room was packed, tension filling the air.
As the discussion began, I listened carefully. Robert’s project came up first.
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Then Brian’s. Executives asked questions, debated ideas. But no one mentioned mine. Not once.
“You’ve talked a lot about Robert’s and my projects, but you haven’t said anything about Leslie’s,” Brian suddenly said, his voice steady.
“You think it’s worth discussing?” our boss, Paul, asked, barely glancing at my report.
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Ouch. That stung.
Brian sat up straighter. “I think it’s the most deserving of the three. It’s obvious Leslie’s project is the best.”
I had to stop my jaw from dropping. Brian, of all people, was defending me?
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“I don’t think so,” Robert cut in. “I still believe mine is the best, or at the very least, Brian’s. Men are better architects than women.”
I felt like I had been slapped. Robert, who I had thought was supportive, had said that?
One of the executives finally looked at my project. He flipped through the pages, nodding slowly. “Actually, I think Brian is right. Leslie’s project is the strongest.”
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A heated debate followed. People argued back and forth, numbers and strategies thrown around. I held my breath, waiting for the final decision.
Nearly an hour later, we walked out of the conference room.
I had won.
My project had been chosen. Relief and pride flooded through me. I knew I had earned it.
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“Thanks for speaking up for me,” I told Brian as we walked down the hallway.
He shrugged, hands in his pockets, then kept walking.
I shook my head and turned to Robert. My excitement was quickly fading. “You were acting weird during the presentation. Especially considering how you feel about me.”
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Robert frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I know you like me. You’re my secret admirer,” I said, crossing my arms.
Robert blinked. “What? Where did you get that idea?”
“Everything fits. Plus, you’re always nice to me,” I said.
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Robert sighed. “I’m just polite. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh…” My stomach dropped.
“Yeah. And I still think my project should have won,” he added.
I shook my head. “Learn to accept defeat,” I said and walked away.
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If it wasn’t Robert, then who was it?
Now, my secret admirer scared me even more. What if he had some kind of listening device at my desk? How else did he know everything?
That evening, as I left the office, unease settled in my stomach. Brian’s words kept replaying in my head—that one day, my admirer would be waiting outside.
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When I stepped out and saw a figure standing by the door, my heart stopped. I panicked and screamed.
“Oh my God, Brian! You scared me!” I yelled, my pulse racing.
“Sorry,” he said, shifting on his feet.
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“What are you doing here?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Waiting outside the office to get rid of you,” he said, his tone unreadable.
“What…?” My confusion deepened.
Brian sighed. “Remember when we talked about your secret admirer, and I said that one day he’d be waiting for you outside?”
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I interrupted him. “Yeah, but what does that—” I froze. My mind pieced it together. “Wait… it’s you?”
Brian nodded.
Only then did I notice the large bouquet in his hands. Tulips. My favorite.
“But why all of this?” I asked, staring at the flowers.
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“I figured you needed to see a different side of me. Not just the Brian who teases you,” he said, shifting awkwardly.
“You could have just stopped acting like a jerk instead of scaring me half to death,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Yeah… it didn’t go exactly as I planned,” Brian admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
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“So… you like me?” I asked.
Brian covered his face with his hand. “I’m not good at talking about this,” he muttered.
“I’ve noticed,” I said, smirking.
“…Yeah. I do,” he finally said, avoiding eye contact.
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I smiled.
“Well, happy Valentine’s Day,” Brian said, turning to walk away.
“Hey, that’s it?” I called after him. “No invitation to dinner?”
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Brian hesitated. “You’d actually want that?”
I walked up to him and took his arm. “Well, I do need to get to know this other Brian,” I said.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I was living my ordinary life until one of my students gave me a Valentine. It looked familiar, and when I unfolded it, my heart stopped. It was the card I had written years ago for someone I once loved. I had to know how it ended up in his hands—even if it changed everything.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
The flight attendant approached me and requested: “Please remain seated after we land; the pilot would like to speak with you personally”
I thought my big business trip to Los Angeles would be just another day at work, but a strange request from the pilot changed everything about my past and future. My flight was supposed to be smooth, but during the two-hour journey, everything shifted. I’m an architect at a well-known firm, living my dream job after years of hard work and sleepless nights in college.
Recently, my boss gave me a chance to present a major project to investors in LA, which could lead to a long-awaited promotion. I was excited not just for the opportunity but also to make my mother, Melissa, proud. She raised me as a single parent and has always supported my dreams, even after telling me my father passed away before I was born.
After saying goodbye to Mom, I boarded the plane and settled into my seat, ready for takeoff. The flight attendants were friendly, and I was lucky to have an empty seat beside me. As the plane climbed, I felt hopeful about my presentation.
A little while into the flight, a cheerful flight attendant named Bethany approached me with drinks. When I asked for orange juice, she suddenly requested my passport. I found it odd but handed it to her. After a brief inspection, she returned it, explaining it was just a routine check.
Later, she returned and informed me that the pilot wanted to speak with me after we landed. I was puzzled about why he needed to talk and felt anxious about my tight schedule. Bethany insisted it was important, so I decided to wait.
When we landed and the cabin cleared, a tall man with graying hair walked toward me. My heart raced as I recognized him from old photos my mom had shown me; this was Steve, her childhood friend. He looked emotional as he hugged me tightly, tears streaming down his face.
Confused, I wondered what was happening. He pulled back and revealed a birthmark on his wrist that was identical to mine. Then he told me he was my father. My mind raced with disbelief. Mom had never mentioned him. Steve explained that he hadn’t known about me until years later when a friend told him. He shared how my mother had left without telling him she was pregnant, fearing he would give up his dreams for us. Hearing this shattered my understanding of my past, and I felt a strong need to confront my mother.
I called her immediately and asked why she never told me about Steve. Mom’s voice trembled as she finally explained everything. She thought she was protecting him by leaving, believing he would be better off without her.
Listening to their emotional conversation left me reeling. I had grown up believing my father was gone, only to discover he was alive and here with me now. I was torn between shock and anger at my mom’s choices.
Then, as I explained my important meeting to Steve, his expression changed. He revealed that he knew the investors very well from his time flying their private jet and could help me get in front of them. He quickly made calls and arranged for me to meet them that day.
Thanks to Steve, my meeting went even better than I expected. The investors were impressed with my project and agreed to fund it. To top it off, I received a call from my boss offering me the promotion I had hoped for. Afterward, Steve greeted me with open arms, proud of my success. I realized that this man, who was once a stranger, now played a vital role in my life.
The following week, Steve visited our house to meet Mom. It was an emotional reunion filled with tears and laughter, making me feel whole for the first time. That night, as I lay in bed, I marveled at how a routine flight had turned into the discovery of my father. This unexpected twist made me feel grateful for the future and the family I had finally begun to know.
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