When young Daisy started working as a secretary at a construction firm, she hadn’t been able to attend university after school—her father was ill, and her mother had passed away during childbirth. Raised solely by her father, she had always loved French, studying it diligently in school and even taking extra courses, hoping it might one day prove useful.
**Unrequited and Secret Love**
The first time Daisy saw her boss, Mr. Anthony Hart, she froze. He walked into the reception area one morning, greeted her politely, lingered a moment on the new girl, then entered his office.
*Goodness,* she thought, flustered. *What a handsome man.* Then she caught herself. *Wait—he’s my boss, married, and twice my age.*
Anthony was in his forties—tall, striking, with a smooth voice, blue eyes, and a charming smile. When he called her into his office to give instructions, she drowned in his gaze, savouring his voice before nodding and hurrying out.
Collapsing into her chair, she steadied herself.
*No, this won’t do. He’s married—and everyone says he adores his wife, Victoria.*
And it was true. Anthony had eyes only for Victoria. They had no children, but their love was unwavering. The office women gossiped.
*What does he see in that plain Jane? She dresses terribly, never gave him kids—yet he’s devoted?*
In some ways, they were right. Victoria was ordinary, dressed simply, and paled beside her husband. But to him, no other woman existed—a fact made clear after countless failed attempts to tempt him.
Daisy listened quietly, loving him in secret. She dreamt he’d notice her one day, realise how deeply she cared.
*We’ll be together. I’ll have his child. Not to break his marriage—but just to have a piece of him. God, how I love him.*
Anthony became her impossible dream. He treated her kindly, as a competent employee—nothing more. Once, he gave her flowers, but it was her birthday. Still, it made her heart soar.
**A Chance Encounter**
Twenty years later, Daisy spotted him on the street—unrecognisable at first. Grey-haired, shuffling, a shadow of the man she’d known. Her heart raced, her throat went dry, her legs stiffened—but he walked past without a glance.
She wanted to chase him, cling to him, confess her enduring love—but she stood frozen, whispering aloud:
*God, what’s happened to him? Does he deserve this?*
*He’s been lost since Victoria died two years ago,* an elderly neighbour explained. *Drinks away his pension. I scold him, but he’s helpless. Only sixty-two.*
Daisy’s distress must have shown. *Who are you to him?* the woman asked.
*No one,* she sighed, walking away.
The encounter haunted her. That night, memories flickered like a film—her love, undimmed by time.
**A Fateful Business Trip**
Three years into her job, Anthony announced a trip to France. *You’re fluent—I’ll need your help with negotiations.*
He had no idea how her heart leapt. She imagined days alone with him.
The talks succeeded, and on their last evening, Anthony suggested celebrating. *You’ve done brilliantly.*
They lingered at the restaurant. He rarely drank, but that night, he did. She helped him to his room, tucking him in—then he grasped her hands, pulling her close.
*Thank you, darling,* he murmured, kissing her hungrily.
She melted, powerless, lost in him—even when he whispered *Victoria.*
*He thinks I’m her,* she realised, wounded. But she stayed, savouring his touch. At dawn, she slipped away.
The next morning, ashamed, he apologised. *This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have—*
*It’s fine,* she said calmly. *No one will ever know.*
**A Secret and a Resignation**
Back home, Daisy couldn’t forget that night—nor stop loving him. Then came the miracle: she was pregnant.
*I’m carrying his child. A piece of him lives in me.*
But she resolved to leave. *He loves Victoria. I won’t wreck their marriage.*
Anthony was stunned by her resignation. *Is it the pay? Or—what happened?*
*I’m getting married,* she lied.
*Then I’ll give you a bonus. Be happy.*
Her heart ached—she’d hoped he’d stop her. But she left, guarding her secret.
Her father, though frail, supported her. In time, she gave birth to Oliver. They built a life—until her father passed when Oliver was seven.
**A Life Reclaimed**
Years later, spotting Anthony—broken, alone—Daisy’s resolve hardened. *No one should die of loneliness.*
She found his flat, reeking of neglect. He stared, bewildered. *Daisy?*
*You’re not alone,* she blurted. *You have a son. And me.*
Shock melted into joy as she explained—her love, Oliver’s birth, her silent years.
*You mean… I have a son?* he whispered.
The next evening, she returned with Oliver and a cake. Anthony, clean-shaven and dressed smartly, wept as Oliver clasped his hand. *Hello, Dad.*
Falling to his knees, Anthony choked out, *Thank you. For loving me. For our son.*
*I forgave you long ago,* she said, lifting him up.
Now, they share a home. Oliver studies medicine. Anthony, revitalised, often says, *You taught me to live in the present, love. Thank you.*
And so, love—patient, enduring—found its way.
