My Valentine surprise for him. By now, my double life feels
almost normal. At work, I'm Alana, Mr.
Hancock's polished, loyal secretary.
Outside the office, my feelings for him have grown deeper,
quieter and more dangerous. We've shared long looks, gentle
touches and moments that felt too real to ignore.
But through all of it, my secret remains.
He still doesn't know the truth about me.
And somehow that makes every feeling stronger.
I am still Alana, still a boy in a dress, and Mr. Hancock doesn't
know I love him so much. And I think he loves me, too.
Valentine's Day felt different this year.
I didn't buy a card, didn't write a note.
Instead, I did something braver. I sat on my bed wearing a red
polka dot dress, the fabric soft against my skin.
The neckline was gentle, feminine without being loud.
Black stockings hugged my legs, and my heels waited nearby.
My wig fell in loose waves over my shoulders, framing my face.
My makeup was sweet, rosy lips, soft eyes, just enough shimmer.
In my arms I held a small brown teddy bear.
I had bought it for him, not flashy, not expensive, just
honest. The room glowed in warm light.
I crossed my legs, carefully smoothing my skirt the way I
always did, even when I was alone.
Old habits die hard. Someone took the photo for me.
I tilted my head slightly, shy smile on my lips, clutching the
teddy bear close to my chest. The red background behind me
looked dreamy, almost heart-shaped, like it knew what
this moment meant. This wasn't just a gift, it was
me. Later that evening, I slipped
the bear into a simple gift bag and placed it on his desk before
he arrived. No name, just a small tag that
read for someone special. When he came in, I watched from
my desk. He picked it up, smiled, then he
looked at me. Alana.
He said softly. Was this you?
I nodded. I wanted to do something
personal. He walked over slowly, holding
the bear like it was fragile. That's very sweet, he said.
Thank you. Our eyes met.
Not boss and secretary, not roles, just two people.
I'm glad you're in my life, he added quietly.
My heart nearly broke open. I'm glad too, I whispered.
He squeezed my hand once. Nothing dramatic, nothing
obvious, but it felt like everything.
That night, alone in my room, I replayed his smile in my head,
the way his voice softened when he spoke to me, the way he
looked like he wanted to say more but didn't.
I hugged my pillow and laughed softly.
Still Alana, still hiding, still scared, but more in love than
ever. Did you feel it too?
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