I never liked romance. I always felt like it was a fantasy, something that belonged in movies, not real life. But then the gifts started arriving—flowers, chocolates, even books I’d wanted. No names, no clues. Just a secret admirer who knew too much. Someone was watching me. But who? And why?
To be honest, I’ve never been a romantic. It’s always been that way. Ever since I was a teenager, 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—they all seemed staged and unrealistic.
Love doesn’t work like that in real life. At least, that’s what I thought. However, someone decided to prove me wrong.
One day I arrived at work, juggling my coffee and my bag, and I froze at my desk.
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A huge bouquet of flowers sat there, shining. A note was attached.
My heart was pounding as I unfolded it, hoping to find a name. But all it said was, “Your smile brightens my days.”
“Did anyone see who brought this bouquet?” I asked, holding out the note.
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Robert looked up from his computer. “No. I got there first. It was already on your desk when I arrived.” His usual warm smile gave me confidence in him.
Robert was my favorite colleague. He was kind, caring, and always had my back.
“Wow,” Brian said from across the room. “Someone actually noticed you.”
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I rolled my eyes. Brian was my least favorite coworker. Brian never missed an opportunity 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 this?” Robert asked, shaking his head. “Jealous that the bouquet isn’t for you?”
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Brian smiled. “Oh, look at our knight in shining armor.” He left before I could reply.
“Thank you,” I said to Robert.
“Always happy to help,” he said with a wink.
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I smiled, put the flowers aside, and turned on my computer. Work had to come first.
The point is, 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 advancement. Losing meant months of wasted effort. I figured this was why Brian had been even more unbearable lately.
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He thrived on competition and enjoyed getting under my skin. It was a battle, and in battles, anything goes.
I couldn’t let him win, or even Robert. I was one of the only women in the company and I had worked hard to get to this point.
If my project were funded, it would prove that I belonged, that I was as good as—no, better than—men.
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But then came the gifts. The gifts from my secret admirer didn’t stop—they arrived almost every day.
At first, I didn’t mind. A bouquet one day, chocolates the next. Then, candy and books—books I’d wanted but never mentioned out loud, at least not that I can remember.
That’s when I stopped feeling calm and started feeling… unsettled. I wasn’t the kind of person to daydream about love stories.
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I wasn’t swooning over mysterious admirers. I was analyzing, questioning, doubting. How did this person know so much about me?
Someone was watching me. 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. This is great.”
I shook my head. “I’m not so sure.”
Brian, who had been eavesdropping, smiled. “That’s true. He’s probably a psychopath who’ll 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. “Did I hit 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 this story over with. The presentation wasn’t until February 14th. Ironic, isn’t it?
Brian wasn’t finished. He walked over and glanced at my computer screen. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
I turned the screen away from him. “Stop snooping. You probably just want to steal my idea.”
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“My idea is much better,” Brian said, crossing his arms.
“Sure,” I replied, dripping with sarcasm.
Brian rolled his eyes and walked away.
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I sighed and reached for my cup, but it was empty. “I really need to buy a bottle of water. I’m tired of constantly running to the fountain,” 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 fountain.” I froze.
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What is… ?
Someone heard me. Someone from this office.
“Do you want to have lunch together?” Robert asked, appearing next to me.
“Yes, of course,” I said, distracted.
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“Nice bottle,” he said, pointing at it.
“Yes,” I whispered, picking it up.
“You don’t seem very happy. Didn’t you want it?” Robert asked, looking at me closely.
I nodded, but my mind kept racing. Something didn’t seem 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 casual comments. He knew my favorite things.
He had always been kind, he had always supported me. Who else could it be? It made perfect sense.
I wanted to ask him the question, to confirm my theory. But the presentation was too important.
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I couldn’t get distracted now. I had to stay focused on my project.
On February 14th, we finally delivered our presentation. The conference room was packed, and tension was high.
When the discussion began, I listened attentively. Robert’s project was discussed first.
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Then Brian’s. The executives asked questions, debated ideas. But no one mentioned mine. Not once.
“You’ve talked a lot about Robert and me’s plans, but you haven’t said anything about Leslie’s,” Brian said suddenly, his voice calm.
“Do you think this is worth discussing?” asked our boss, Paul, barely glancing at my report.
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Ouch. That stung me.
Brian straightened up. “I think this is the most deserving of the three. Obviously, 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 added. “I still believe mine is the best, or at least Brian’s. Men are better architects than women.”
I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. Robert, who I thought was a great support, had said that?
One of the executives finally looked at my proposal. He flipped through the pages, nodding slowly. “Actually, I think Brian’s right. Leslie’s proposal is the strongest.”
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A lively debate ensued. People argued back and forth, numbers and strategies being thrown around. I held my breath, waiting for the final decision.
Almost an hour later, we left 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 standing up for me,” I said to Brian as we walked down the hall.
He shrugged, hands in his pockets, then continued walking.
I shook my head and turned to Robert. My excitement was fading quickly. “You acted strangely 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?”
“It all fits together. Besides, you’re always nice to me,” I said.
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Robert sighed. “I’m just being polite. I have a girlfriend.”
“Oh…” My stomach dropped.
“Yes. 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 installed some kind of listening device in my office? Otherwise, how could he know everything?
That evening, as I left the office, a feeling of unease settled in my stomach. Brian’s words replayed in my head—that one day, my admirer would be waiting for me outside.
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When I went outside and saw a figure standing by the door, my heart stopped. I panicked and screamed.
“Oh my God, Brian! You scared me!” I cried, my pulse racing.
“Sorry,” he said, shifting on his feet.
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“What are you doing here?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I was 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 one day he’d be waiting for you outside?”
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I interrupted him. “Yes, but what is this…” I froze. My mind started to think. “Wait… is that you?”
Brian nodded.
It was only then that I noticed the large bouquet he was holding in his hands. Tulips. My favorites.
“But why all this?” I asked, staring at the flowers.
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“I thought you needed to see another side of me. Not just the Brian who teases you,” he said, shifting awkwardly.
“You could have stopped acting like an idiot instead of scaring me to death,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Yeah… it didn’t go exactly as I planned,” Brian admits, rubbing the back of his neck.
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“So… do you like me?” I asked.
Brian covered his face with his hand. “I’m not good at talking about this,” he mumbled.
“I noticed,” I said, giving him a wry smile.
“…Yes. It’s true,” he finally said, avoiding eye contact.
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I smiled.
“Well, Happy Valentine’s Day,” Brian said, turning to walk away.
“Hey, is that all?” I asked. “No dinner invitation?”
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Brian hesitated. “Would you really want that?”
I walked over to him and took his arm. “Well, I need to get to know this other Brian,” I said.
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