It started off as small things, barely noticeable in the daily rush at the office.

When her pen ran out, there was a new one on her desk when she turned around. When she twisted her ankle coming out of the elevator, there was an ice pack on her chair five minutes later. When the coffee machine broke, there was a cup of Starbucks; a smile when she was having a bad day; a dry-cleaners card when an intern tripped over her, sending coffee flying onto her new shirt; a flower on her birthday. Nothing huge, nothing anyone else would notice. But for her, it was special. It was something that had never happened to her before.

When she was in a bad mood, it was often one of these small tokens of affection that would make her smile. She began to look forward to them, every morning there was the anticipation, waiting to see what the day would bring. A shared joke in the office kitchen, perhaps, or a Lindt chocolate left on her desk.

It was never the same thing, and always at a different time of day. Sometimes she would return from lunch to find a funny email in her inbox, other times there was something just before she left for home.

The morning that things changed was a beautiful day. A clear blue sky stretched, if not for miles, then at least between sky-scrapers. The temperature was perfect, a mild twenty five degrees. For the first time she could remember, the traffic flowed smoothly through the city.

As she walked towards the office lobby, a young girl was busking on the steps of the building. Smiling, she threw a few coins into the girl's hat and received a smile and nod in return. The smile stayed on her face in the elevator, indeed, all the way to her desk. It must be the day affecting her mood, she decided. No one could waste a day like this on a bad mood.

Sitting at her desk, she started to work, words flowing effortlessly from her brain to her hands. Lunchtime passed; she didn't notice. The shadows grew longer; her only reaction was to turn on her desk light. Eventually, her stomach made its presence known. Surprised, she looked up. It was almost dark. Disbelieving, she glanced at her clock. The hands confirmed it. 5.30pm. How could she have missed the entire day? Surely she would have noticed everyone leaving. Looking around, the only lights were in the corridor. She could hear the cleaners.

Looking at her desk, she was disappointed. There was nothing. Checking her emails, she sighed. Perhaps he had tried to talk to her during the day. Thinking back, she couldn't remember anything. It seemed that only five minutes ago she was walking into the office.

Gathering her things, she looked sadly around her workspace, hoping he'd left something; that she'd missed it when she first looked. Nothing.

Walking to the elevator, and then to her car, she couldn't understand it. He'd never missed a day before. Not ever.

Driving home, the traffic seemed to reflect her mood. Where this morning there had been clear roads, there were traffic jams, reaching as far as the eye could see.

When she finally reached her apartment, she tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for the elevator. Pulling out her keys as she headed to her door, she stopped. Pinned to her door was a cream envelope, her name delicately written on the front. Taking it down and opening it, a slow smile crept across her face.

From where he stood at the other end of the hall, the man smiled too. He hadn't forgotten. He never forgot.