I’ve never thought of myself as particularly brave, especially in the matters of the heart. I was that person who would endlessly rehearse conversations in my head but fail to summon enough courage to express them, one who quietly watched from the sidelines, and never acted on it. My friend Jose was the one I always wish I could be like, she was never hesitant about expressing her feelings to any guy that piqued her interest. For me, my background was constantly in the way. I was brought up with the notion that;
The man should always make the first move.
I liked Ena alot but I never ever thought of telling him.
He was not the most handsome, but he had a special charm that appealed to me—he was undeniably captivating, had a confident and calm voice and always made eye contact while speaking with people. He was everything I ever desired but I didn’t have the courage to claim.
I decided to write to him instead of telling him directly.
It started as a silly impulse—a line I penned down on a scrap of paper and secretly slipped into his desk when nobody was watching. I hadn't expected it to become a habit.
For many months I admired him secretly while I continued writing him notes, in bits and pieces, with snippets of admiration and I slipped those notes in his work area where I knew he would find them.
Ena never made a fuss of it. He would find the notes and he would read them in solitude. He never made jokes about them. He was that calm and composed.
But the office had eyes.
Rumours started going round about a person penning “mysterious love letters” to Ena, some said it was Grace from the accounts department, who didn’t hide the fact that she liked him. Others said it was Faith, the tall and confident intern.
I kept quiet, feeling knots of anxiety in my belly, secretly wishing this attention would fade away quickly and things would return to “business as usual.”
To my dismay, it did not.
One Friday morning, the head of my department, a very humorous guy, produced a white envelope during the weekly staff meeting.
My heart stopped.
He smiled and said, “This—I found on the printer. I think someone left it there by mistake. And, I also think our dear Ena has a secret admirer.”
The room erupted into laughter. Ena, sitting a few seats away from me, looked mildly amused and a little uneasy.
“Read it, read it!” everyone yelled.
Before I could breathe, the manager began to read,
“If I had the courage, I would tell you in person. About how I feel. But for now, let the words be enough. I think about you every moment and you are the reason I breathe.”
Teasing applause followed in the wake of the reading. I could feel flames on my cheek as if a fire was being kindled. The envelope must have slipped off my bag when I stopped to print some documents.
“Ok,” the manager chuckled. “Now it is your turn. Whoever is responsible for these letters, can you please come forward?"
Silence fell. Heads turned. Some were looking at Grace, some were looking at Faith but none turned to look my way.
My hands were trembling on the table. I could have denied it somehow or let the suspicion settle back on someone else. But I could feel this change within me. I guess It was the weeks of bottled up emotions and Ena's eyes — calm, expectant, almost searching - that made me move.
When I stood, the laughter faded into stunned silence. I could feel my heart pounding so loud I could hardly hear my own voice.
"It was me," I said, barely audibly. And then louder: "I wrote the letters."
The silence stretched like a taut string. Grace’s mouth dropped open, Faith blinked in surprise, and the head of my department let out a low whistle.
“Well,” he said at last, “that answers that.”
Someone giggled nervously. Chairs creaked as people exchanged looks. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me whole.
But then—Ena stood.
He walked toward me very slowly, every step purposeful. Staring at him, I watched as he came to a standstill in front of me in the middle of the room. The office was completely wild now, its stillness disturbing.
"You wrote them," he said quietly, not accusing but just confirming.
I swallowed hard. "Yes."
For an instant, he searched my eyes. Then—he smiled unexpectedly.
"You should have told me sooner."
The office buzzed again, but it was not the murmur of speculating, it was laughter of another kind—teasing, delighted, conspiratorial. Someone clapped, someone whistled, but I barely heard any of it. Terror and relief crashed in my chest as waves.
Ena moved closer and whispered only to me, "We need to have a proper talk after work because I feel the same way too."
And then he returned to his seat. I was left trembling, yes, but lighter than I had felt for months.
Yes I faced the music. It was terrifying, but it was the beginning of a new song entirely.
Image was generated with AI.
Thank you for reading
