«The Plain Grey Mouse! Who’d ever want you?» they used to laugh. But as time passed, every new day blurred into the last. Emily sat at her desk, the mountain of paperwork before her growing like some relentless creature, swallowing up her time and space. Files, folders, reportsall stacked into a trembling tower threatening to collapse. Colleagues approached with easy smiles and requests that sounded like foregone conclusions. «Em, you wouldnt say no, would you?» «Love, could you help? Im swamped.» «Youre the only one reliable enough.» And Emily never refused. She couldnt find the words to disappoint anyone.
The clock ticked slowly toward eight in the evening. The open-plan office was silent now, save for the tapping of her keyboard and the soft snores of the security guard dozing at his post. Emily still hunched over her monitor, the cold glow sharpening the shadows under her eyes. She was thirty-two, wore a plain grey cardigan, and pinned her hair into a neat bun. Dependable. The one who never let anyone down. Convenient.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed. «Mum» flashed on the screen. Emily took a deep breath and answered.
«Em, darling, where are you? Still at work?» Her mothers voice was tense, threaded with worry.
«Yes, Mum, just finishing up. Everythings fine.»
«Sweetheart, I worry! Youre always workingwhen do you *live*?» Her sigh carried the weight of the world. «At your age, I was already dating your father, and you»
«Mum, please dont,» Emily pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache building. «Actually… Ive met someone.»
Silence. The lie had tumbled out like a shield.
«Really?!» Her mothers joy was palpable. «Why didnt you say? Whats his name? Tell me everything!»
«Weve not been together long. I wanted to wait until it felt… settled.»
«Bring him Saturday! For lunch! Ill make your favourite soup, bake that apple pie you love!»
Emily closed her eyes, imagining the disaster. Seven days to find a man willing to play the part.
«Alright, Mum. Well be there.»
Hanging up, she dropped her head onto her hands. What had she done?
The next morning arrived with a throbbing head and dark circles. Shed spent the night scouring dating sites, every profile feeling hollow. How to describe herself? «*Quiet accountant seeks man for pretend relationship*»?
«Em, you look awful,» chirped a voice. Jess from Marketingbright, bubbly, and perpetually in her space. They werent close, but Jess had a knack for bulldozing past boundaries.
«Just tired,» Emily muttered.
«Liar. Spill.»
And Emily did. Exhaustion loosened her tongue, and the whole story poured outher mum, the fake boyfriend, the impending lunch.
Jess clapped her hands. «Right. Im taking over. Well glam you up, find a decent bloke, and your mum will sleep soundly. Deal?»
«Jess, no»
«Too late. Meet me after work.»
That evening, Jess dragged her to a posh restaurant in central London. Crystal glasses, white linen, prices that made Emilys stomach drop.
«I dont belong here,» she whispered, shrinking into her chair.
«Relax! Just act the part.»
But Emily didnt *know* the part. She sat stiffly while Jess charmed strangers, exchanging numbers and laughs.
«See that bloke? Owns a chain of coffee shops,» Jess whispered as a polished man approached.
Ten minutes of monologues about his «expansion plans» later, he left without asking Emilys name. Then came Daniel, then Oliver. All glanced at her, then lost interest.
«Chin up,» Jess said later. «Tomorrows a self-empowerment seminar. Better crowd.»
The seminar was worse. A room full of strangers hugging and shouting affirmations. Emily stood frozen by the wall until the neon-clad coach demanded she share her «deepest fears.» She wanted to vanish.
Days blurred into a parade of parties and pretence. Emily forced smiles, made small talk, and felt emptier each hour.
On Fridaythe day before *the lunch*she stayed late again, finishing a colleagues report. The office was deserted when a familiar figure appeared in the doorway.
«Still here?» It was James from IT. Tall, quiet, glasses. Theyd exchanged maybe five words in five years.
«Nearly done,» she said, not looking up.
He hesitated, then stepped closer. «Emily… youve seemed off lately. Everything alright?»
She met his gazeno mockery, just kindness. And she told him everything.
He listened, then said, «Maybe youre looking in the wrong places. If you pretend, youll find something just as fake.»
The words struck her.
«But the lunch is tomorrow. I cant disappoint her again.»
«Want me to come?» he offered. «As a friend. Well meet, chat, and later say it didnt work out. No rush, no pressure.»
Emily stared. «Youd… do that?»
«Course. Colleagues, arent we?»
On Saturday, James arrived in a simple blue shirt, carrying daisies and chocolates. «For your mum,» he smiled.
Talking came easily. They loved the same books, films. Hed played in a band at uni.
Her mother beamed at the door. Lunch was warm, effortless. James praised the pie, asked about her life, told funny stories. Emily watched her mums face light up.
«Hes *lovely*,» her mother whispered later.
Driving home, James said, «Shell sleep easy now.»
«Thank you,» Emily said softly.
«No trouble.»
Comfortable silence lingered. Then James turned toward the park. «Fancy a walk? No scripts.»
They strolled under autumn leaves, drinking cheap coffee. James talked about his cat, Whiskers; Emily confessed her childhood dream of being a librarian.
«Why dont you ever say no?» he asked suddenly. «At work, everyone dumps tasks on you.»
She shrugged. «Afraid Ill end up alone.»
«People should value *you*, not what you do for them.»
Under the streetlights, his eyes were gentle.
«And what am I?»
«Kind. Clever. You listen. Youve got a quiet smilewhen you let it show.»
Her pulse quickened. «How do you know?»
He ducked his head. «Weve worked together five years. Ive… always noticed you. Just never dared say.»
She laughed. «*Me?* Im ordinary.»
«No,» he said. «Youre like… still water. Calm. Real.»
Leaves swirled around them. Emily realised the warmth in her chest wasnt just gratitude.
«James,» she whispered, «what if we… didnt pretend?»
His smile was sunlight. «Id like that.»
On Monday, Emily walked in unchangedsame cardigan, same bun. But when a colleague asked her to cover a report, she said, «Sorry, Ive got my own work today.»
Jess cornered her at lunch. «So? Found *the one*? Mum happy?»
«Yes,» Emily smiled. «Turns out, I was looking in the wrong places.»
Jess followed her gaze to James passing by. «*Him?* From IT?»
«Absolutely.»
Jess snorted. «Thought youd land someone flashier.»
Emily smiled. «I dont need flashy. I need *mine*.»
That evening, they sat in a cosy café, laughing over shared quirkscrossword addictions, a ritual for brewing tea.
«You know whats funny?» Emily said, sliding her hand into his. «All that time searching… and you were next door.»
«Maybe we both needed time,» James squeezed her fingers. «Time for you to stop pleasing everyone. Time for me to speak up.»
«Im glad Mum pushed me,» she laughed. «Or wed have danced around this for years.»
Later, her mother called. «When are you and James visiting? Ill bake his favourite pie!»
Emily watched James fiddling with her laptop. «Soon, Mum.»
She hugged him from behind. «Know why I love you most?»
«Why?»
«With you, Im just *me*.»
He turned, smiling. «And thats who I love.»
Outside, the world rushed on. But their happiness was heresimple, quiet, and utterly real.
Sometimes, you dont need grand quests. Sometimes, happiness is just a heartbeat awayif you dare to be yourself, and see it.
Emily learned to say no. Not always, but when it mattered. People respected her more, not less.
Jess hugged her weeks later. «Sorry if I was pushy. I just wanted to help.»
«You did,» Emily said. «You pushed me out of my shell. And I realised I didnt need to changejust to *be*.»
That Saturday, they visited her mum again, this time with Whiskers in tow. Rain pattered outside as James chatted about a new project, the cat purring on her mothers lap.
And Emilyno longer the invisible girl, just *herself*knew this was true happiness. Not in noise or pretence, but in quiet, honest moments.
Found where shed least expected it: right beside her, all along.
