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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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“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.
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“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.
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“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.”
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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“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.
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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.”
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“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.
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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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My Wife Found Sweaters She Knitted for Our Grandkids at a Thrift Store – She Was So Heartbroken, I Had to Teach Them a Lesson
I just discovered that occasionally extreme tactics are necessary to get your message across to someone. Grounding my grandchildren for what they did to my wife wasn’t going to be a sufficient lesson in this case. I set them a challenging task to ensure their redemption. I, Clarence (74), have always thought my wife Jenny (73), is the loveliest and most kindhearted person. This was particularly true with regard to our grandchildren. She knits them exquisitely detailed sweaters every year for their birthdays and Christmas. She puts all of her heart into this tradition. She would frequently begin new initiatives more earlier than necessary.
This was done to guarantee that every child received a unique item created particularly for them. She would make the kids stuffed animals for their birthdays. Maybe a blanket for the grandchildren who are older. We just had a trip and decided to stop by our neighborhood thrift store last week. For our landscaping project, we were trying to find some old-fashioned pots. What was supposed to be a relaxing trip became an unforgettable, heartbreaking experience!Something I wish we could take back from our shared history. My wife stopped as we were browsing the aisles. Her gaze fixed on something, causing her to momentarily stop. “What the heck is that? She questioned, gesturing with a quivering finger, “Am I seeing things? The sweaters she had crocheted for our grandchildren were hanging there among a gazillion other trashed stuff! All of them were for sale! Among them, there was a blue-and-grey-striped one that was definitely the one Jenny made for our oldest grandchild last Christmas.
\It was clear from the expression on her face. She stretched out and caressed the fabric softly, and her heart broke. She tried to hide her pain with a grin and a repression of tears. Her voice was barely audible as she said, “It’s okay, I understand that kids might be embarrassed to wear grandma’s sweaters.” I could hardly contain my emotions as I drew her closer for an embrace, realizing how hurt she was. No, this wasn’t acceptable, and unfortunately for our family, my wife was more understanding than I was. They committed a heartless, destructive, and blatantly cruel act! Even though she maintained her composure, I couldn’t help but feel furious! Once I was sure she was asleep, I went back to the thrift store that evening and bought back everything she had made! I had made up my mind to put this right. I made the decision to impart a significant life lesson to our grandchildren without even speaking to my wife! One that would instill in them the value of showing gratitude for future blessings. I made a package for each grandchild the following day. I put wool, knitting needles, and a basic set of knitting instructions inside each. I added a picture of the sweater they had thrown away along with a severe note that said, “I know what you did.” You had better start knitting your own gifts now!”Grandma and I are coming for dinner, and you better be wearing her presents,” I said in my note. Alternatively, I’ll notify your parents and you won’t receive any further gifts for birthdays or Christmas. As one could guess, there was a wide range of reactions! A few of the grandchildren apologized sheepishly over the phone. They acknowledged that they were unaware of the significance of these gifts. Some remained mute, maybe feeling awkward or not knowing what to say. But the point had been made. When dinnertime finally arrived, there was a palpable sense of excitement. Our grandkids arrived one by one. All of them wearing the sweaters that nobody thought were worthy. To be very honest, some of the art they produced was absurdly poor! The one short design and one long hand made me chuckle uncontrollably! Some sweaters were obviously dropped mid-project, while others were simply too large! Not a single reproduction could have done MY Jenny’s original work justice. When sincere regret was expressed through their apologies, the tension subsided. Our oldest grandchild stated to their parents, “We are so sorry for taking your gifts for granted, Grandma,” while their parents watched. “We swear never to give away anything you’ve lovingly made for us ever again.” They made an attempt at knitting. They became aware of the passion and work that went into every stitch as a result. “Our oldest grandchild admitted that this was harder than he had anticipated, Grandpa.”
He continued tugging at the sleeves of his hurriedly constructed attempt as he spoke. Another person said, “Yeah, I’m sorry, Grandma,” with wide eyes. “It took me hours to finish one section of a scarf!” Bless her heart, my wife pardoned them, giving each one her customary warmth and compassion. “I’m amazed you got them to do this much!” Jenny loved our grandchildren and turned to face me. I needed to take action, my darling. I couldn’t allow them to believe that your gifts were just throwaway objects. I knew I had made the right decision when we embraced and she opened her warm heart to me. The laughter increased and the mood lightened as we ate dinner. This difficult lesson bonded everyone. It served as a helpful reminder of the importance of recognizing and appreciating one another’s work. Ultimately, our grandchildren gained knowledge about love, respect, and the elegance of a handcrafted gift in addition to learning how to knit a basic stitch. My wife felt better when she saw that her efforts were eventually recognized. I discovered how much of an impact she had on bringing our family together. The grandchildren added one more thing as we were wrapping up our dinner: “We promise to cherish our handmade gifts forever.” A promise that brought my wife more warmth than any sweater could have! I said to them, “I have one last surprise for you all,” before I left. I ran to the car and returned with a bunch of big plastic bags. “Open them,” I told our grandchildren. When they discovered every sweater Jenny had given them, they were all beaming with happiness. When they transitioned from their awful attempts at knitting to the flawless sculptures my wife had made them, they were like completely different persons. “Grandma and grandpa, thank you so much!” they exclaimed as they gave us a warm hug before we left. The spouse of a woman in the following tale was in need of some important life lessons. Before she put her foot down, he had developed the poor habit of making purchases—big and small—without getting her approval.
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