**”Reliable? More like forgettable!”** Everyone used to laugh at the idea of anyone wanting a timid, grey mouse like her. But time has a funny way of proving people wrong.
Each new day blurred into the last. Emily sat at her desk, the tower of paperwork in front of her growing like a living, breathing monsterspreadsheets, invoices, reports piling up, threatening to topple. Her colleagues swanned by, all smiles and breezy requests. *”Em, you wouldnt mind, would you?” “Love, youre such a starIm in over my head!” “Youre the only one we can trust with this!”* And Emily, unable to bear the thought of letting anyone down, never said no.
The clock ticked stubbornly toward eight p.m. The office was eerily quiet, save for the hum of her keyboard and the faint snoring of the night security guard dozing at his post. The glow of her monitor cast shadows under her tired eyes. Thirty-two, a sensible beige cardigan, hair neatly tied backshe was the dependable one. The one who never faltered. The one who was *convenient*.
Then, her phone buzzed violently. *”Mum.”* Emily inhaled sharply and answered.
“Sweetheart, where *are* you? Still at work?” Her mothers voice was laced with that quiet, nagging worry.
“Just finishing up, Mum. All good.”
“Darling, you work so muchwhen do you actually *live*?” Her sigh carried the weight of every maternal concern in the world. “At your age, I was already seeing your father, and you”
“Mum, please,” Emily pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache creeping in. “Actually… I *am* seeing someone.”
Dead silence. The lie had tumbled out before she could stop ita shield against another interrogation.
“*Really?!*” Genuine delight crackled through the phone. “Emily, why didnt you *say*? Whats his name? Tell me *everything*!”
“Weve… not been together long. I wanted to wait until things settled.”
“Bring him round Saturday! Lunch! Ill make your favourite roast, that apple crumble you loveI *must* meet him!”
Emily squeezed her eyes shut. Six days. Six days to conjure up a man willing to play alongto spare her mothers feelings.
“Alright. Well be there.”
Hanging up, she dropped her head onto her folded arms. *What have I done?*
The next morning arrived with a thumping headache and dark circles. Shed spent the night scrolling through dating apps, every profile either dull or dubious. How did one even phrase this? *”Quiet accountant seeks temporary plus-one for family deception”?*
“Em, you look *dreadful*,” chirped a voice. It was Lucy from Marketingeffervescent, golden-haired, and perpetually in everyones business. They werent close, but Lucy had a knack for bulldozing into personal crises uninvited.
“Just tired,” Emily mumbled.
“Liar. Spill.”
And somehow, she did. Maybe from exhaustion, maybe because the secret was too heavyshe spilled the whole ridiculous scheme. The fake boyfriend, the lunch, the impossible deadline.
Lucy clapped her hands together, as if solving a puzzle. “Right. Im taking over. One week: makeover, man-hunt, maternal peace. *Done.*”
“Lucy, no”
“Too late. Meet me after work.”
The evening plunged them into a posh Mayfair restaurantcrisp white tablecloths, cutlery that probably cost more than her rent, and menu prices that made her grip her chair.
“Lucy, I dont *belong* here”
“Relax! The right crowds key. Just *sell* yourself.”
But Emily didnt know how to *sell* herself. Slumped in her old cardigan, she watched Lucy effortlessly charm strangers, swapping jokes and numbers while she sat there, a wilting wallflower.
“Look, theres Oliverowns that boutique coffee chain,” Lucy stage-whispered as a perfectly groomed man approached.
Ten minutes of Oliver monologuing about *his* expansion plans (without asking her name) later, he excused himself. Next came Henry, then Jamesall glancing at her like a mildly interesting coaster before moving on.
“Chin up,” Lucy said on the way home. “Tomorrow: confidence workshop. *Quality* people there.”
The “workshop” was a dim room full of strangers hugging and yelling about self-love. Emily pressed herself against the wall, panic rising. When the neon-clad facilitator demanded she *”share her deepest fears!”*, she nearly bolted.
“Youre *blocked*!” he boomed. “*Let* yourself be happy!”
She stayed silent. She just wanted her quiet flat, a cup of tea, and *sanity*.
Days blurred into more forced socialisinggalas, networking, parties where Emily smiled until her cheeks ached and left feeling emptier than ever.
Then, the night before *The Lunch*, she was still at the officefinishing *another* colleagues overdue report because *”Youre such a lifesaver!”*
“Youre here late.”
She looked up. Daniel from ITtall, quiet, glasses slightly askew. He drifted in occasionally to fix printers, barely speaking. Theyd worked in the same building for five years and exchanged maybe ten words.
“Nearly done,” she murmured.
He lingered. “Emily… youve seemed off lately. Everything alright?”
The concern in his voice undid her. And suddenly, she was confessing *everything*the lie, the lunch, the soul-crushing charade.
Daniel listened, then sighed. “Maybe… youre looking in the wrong places? If youre pretending to be someone else, youll only find people who want that *someone else*.”
The simplicity of it struck her.
“But lunch is *tomorrow*.”
“Want me to come? As a friend. Well say were dating, buy you time to figure things out properly.”
She stared. “*Would* you?”
“Course. No one should stress like this.”
Saturday arrived. Daniel picked her up in a navy shirt, clutching daisies and chocolates. “For your mum.”
In the car, they talkedeasily, *naturally*. Books (both sci-fi nerds), films, how Daniel had played bass in a uni band.
Her mother beamed at the door. Lunch was warm, effortlessDaniel praised the roast, asked about her life, told stories that made them laugh. Emily watched her mums face soften with hope.
“*What* a lovely man!” her mum whispered in the kitchen.
Leaving, her mother waved them off gleefully. In the car, Daniel smiled. “Shes brilliant. Now she wont worry.”
“Thank you,” Emily said softly.
“Any time.”
They drove in comfortable silenceno awkwardness, just quiet understanding.
Then Daniel turned into Hyde Park. “Fancy a walk? No scripts.”
They strolled under autumn leaves, drinking awful vending-machine coffee. Daniel talked about his cat, Biscuit; she confessed her childhood dream of being a librarian.
“Why dont you ever say *no*?” he asked suddenly. “At work, they all dump things on you.”
She shrugged. “I guess… Im scared theyll leave if I do.”
“Emily, people should like you for *you*, not what you do for them.”
She looked up. In the lamplight, his eyes were kind behind his glasses.
“And who *am* I?”
“Youre clever. You listen. Youve got this… *quiet* way of making people feel safe. And your smilewhen you actually *mean* itcould power the National Grid.”
Her pulse skipped. “How do you know all this?”
Daniel flushed. “Weve worked in the same place for *five years*, Em. Ive always… noticed you. Just never knew how to say it.”
They stopped under the trees, golden leaves swirling. That warm, unfamiliar feeling in her chest? It wasnt in posh restaurants or forced parties. It was *here*honest, uncomplicated.
“Dan… what if we *dont* pretend?”
His smile was sunrise-warm. “Id love that.”
Monday morning, Emily walked in *changed*. Not in a new outfit or hairstylebut when a colleague tried to offload work, she said, *”Sorry, Ive got my own deadlines today.”*
Lucy cornered her at lunch. “So? Find *the one*?”
Emily smiled. “Yeah. Just… not where I expected.”
Lucy followed her gaze to Daniel passing by. “*Him?* Really?”
“Really.”
“Huh. Well… congrats.”
That evening, they sat in a cosy café near work, laughing over terrible puns and discovering shared obsessionsblack-and-white films, cryptic crosswords, an irrational hatred of lukewarm tea.
“Funny,” Emily said, lacing her fingers with his. “I spent so long trying to be *interesting enough*. And the real thing was next door all along.”
“Maybe we both needed time,” Daniel said. “You to realise you *dont* have to please everyone. Me to finally talk to you.”
A month later, her mum called. “When are you and Daniel visiting? Im making *pie*!”
“Soon,” Emily promised, watching Daniel wrestle with her stubborn laptop.
She hugged him from behind. “Know why I love you most?”
“Why?”
“Because with you, I get to be *me*.”
He grinned. “And I love *you* for being exactly that.”
Outside, the world rushed onnoisy, demanding, relentless.
But their happiness? It was *here*. Quiet, real, and utterly unshakeable.
Sometimes, you dont need to search far for what youre looking for. Sometimes, its been beside you all alongwaiting for you to stop pretending and just *see* it.
And Emily? She learned to say *no*. Not always, not cruellybut when it mattered. She stayed kind, just not *convenient*. And to her surprise, people respected her *more*.
One day, Lucy hugged her. “Im *glad* youre happy. Sorry if I was… a lot.”
“You helped,” Emily said honestly. “I just needed to realise *how* I wanted to change.”
Daniels parents adored her. Biscuit the cat claimed her lap. Her mum stopped worrying.
And Emily? She wasnt *invisible* anymore.
She was just *Emily*finally, *unapologetically* herself.
