He agrees to a date with the company’s most overlooked woman just to dodge a lonely Christmas, but by the night’s end, he uncovers what’s really been eating at him

What once seemed like a fun and free choice was now beginning to weigh as inevitable loneliness. On the last workday before the holiday, the office was filled with a festive atmosphere. Twinkling lights shone around the windows and a subtle aroma of gingerbread cookies brought in by a colleague mingled with the usual smell of coffee.

Laughter echoed down the hallways, accompanied by the muffled sound of Christmas songs someone insisted on playing on the break room radio. Tyler’s colleagues were excited, exchanging cards and warm hugs as they gathered their things to start their celebrations. Some carried packages wrapped in vibrant paper, gifts for secret friends or family.

In contrast, Tyler remained at his desk, his gaze lost on the computer screen, absentmindedly fiddling with a pen. He pretended to be busy, even though there were no more pending tasks to resolve. The truth was, he was in no hurry to leave.

He had no parties to attend, nor anyone waiting for him. Your phone rang, interrupting the hum of your thoughts. Seeing your mother’s name on the screen, you sighed.

It wasn’t the first time that week she had called. He knew what was coming. Hello, mom, he answered, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt.

Tyler, dear, I know you’re busy, but I hope you’re still considering my offer. The dinner will be wonderful, and everyone would love to see you. It’s been so long, she insisted, her voice laden with expectation.

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, a pang of guilt mixing with discomfort. He didn’t want to disappoint her, but the idea of facing painful memories and the complicated family dynamics held him back. Thanks for the invitation, mom, but I already have plans.

It’s going to be exciting, he lied, trying to sound convincing. On the other end of the line, there was a brief but significant pause. All right, dear.

I just want you to know there’s always a place for you at the table, she replied with a tenderness that only intensified the emptiness inside him. When he hung up the phone, Tyler looked up and noticed that the office was almost empty, except for him and Alice, who was still silently working at her desk in the finance department. Alice was a discreet figure, almost invisible in the hectic day-to-day of the office.

Her long brown hair was, as usual, pulled back in a simple bun, with a few strands gently escaping to frame her face. The thin framed glasses rested on her delicate nose and her sober clothing, usually in neutral shades and classic cuts, reinforced the impression of a practical and reserved person. Among the more irreverent colleagues, Alice was nicknamed Cat Lady.

The nickname, though laden with cruel stereotypes, reflected the superficial perception they had of her, a solitary, eccentric woman who probably lived surrounded by cats in an apartment full of books and silence. Tyler, like many there, had never bothered to find out if it was true. Alice always seemed to be immersed in numbers and reports, oblivious to the whispers…