**A Secret Admirer**
*Diary Entry*
Finally, I’m free. Eleanor sighed with relief as she stepped out of the registry office, the weight of her failed marriage lifting from her shoulders. For months, she’d endured the frustration of carrying the burden of a lazy, perpetually discontent husband. Today, that chapter ended.
Her ex-husband, Edward, hadn’t taken the separation well. He’d begged her to reconsider, promised to change, but Eleanor had stood firm. The flat had been hers to begin with, so without a second thought, she packed his things and sent him away. Edward retreated to his parents’ house, where his mother greeted him with weary exasperation.
“Mum, I’ve come to stay,” he announced.
“Oh, brilliant,” she snapped. “What was so terrible about living with Ellie? She was a hardworking woman with her own place—better than you deserved!”
“You know how it was. She found me irritating. Probably never loved me.”
“And what did you do to earn her love? Laid about all day, scraping pennies from freelancing. Look at you—pudgy and unkempt. No wonder she left.”
Edward winced. “So what now?”
“Change or find another fool to put up with you.”
Meanwhile, Eleanor refused to waste time. None of the men she knew intrigued her, so she signed up for a dating site. At 35, with a striking figure and confidence, she received fifty messages within an hour.
*Five years with a layabout, and now this abundance,* she mused, sifting through profiles. But optimism faded fast. Most couldn’t string a sentence together—just hollow greetings and clumsy advances. She wanted conversation, not empty small talk.
A month passed without a decent match. Crude proposals, dull tea invitations, or vapid personalities—none held her interest. Ready to delete her profile, she nearly gave up.
Then, a miracle.
A man calling himself *Incognito* messaged her. Articulate, engaging, and witty, he stood out instantly. Only one oddity—his profile picture showed a Venetian mask. When she asked why he hid his face, he laughed. “Where’s the fun without mystery? Half the names here are made up.”
Intrigued, Eleanor played along. *It’s just harmless flirting,* she told herself.
The next day, a lavish bouquet arrived at her office. The note read: *From your secret admirer.*
*Who on earth—?* A message pinged.
“Did you like the flowers?” *Incognito* asked.
“How did you know where I work? Are you stalking me?”
“Forgive me. A quick social media search revealed all.”
She chuckled. “Fine, forgiven. They’re lovely.”
From then on, fresh bouquets arrived daily. A month later, a dazzling diamond ring nestled among the blooms. The note read: *Don’t you think it’s time we met?*
Fear prickled. *What if he’s dangerous?* She resolved to meet him in a public park, ready to return the ring if things felt off.
The evening came. Three minutes passed, the park bustling with strangers. Then—a familiar figure approached. His stride, his frame—something tugged at her memory. When he stepped closer, her breath caught.
*Edward.*
But not the Edward she knew. He’d transformed—leaner, well-dressed, radiating confidence. His smile held warmth, his eyes a spark she’d never seen.
“Ellie,” he said softly. “Didn’t you guess? *I* was Incognito.”
Her pulse raced. All this time, he’d reinvented himself—gym sessions, a lucrative job, even a new car on finance. “I love you,” he admitted. “I’d change everything to deserve you.”
In his absence, Eleanor had realised one truth: of all the men she’d entertained, *he* was the one she’d never stopped loving.
“Let’s go home, Edward,” she whispered.
But doubts linger. Did she make the right choice? Or is this another mask—one he’ll remove when comfort returns? Only time will tell.
