Being 34, my parents forced me to get married or they wouldn’t leave me any inheritance. I was given an ultimatum to find a husband by the time I turn 35. Feeling the urge to get back at them, I decided to marry a homeless guy I met by accident. I offered him shelter and food to pretend to be my husband.

It all started when my mom and dad turned every dinner into a matchmaking session. All they talked about was how they wanted grandchildren and tried to introduce me to the sons of their friends.

I did my best to avoid such conversations, saying I loved my single life and being around my family and friends. Still, they insisted more and more.

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One day, they decided to take some “drastic measures.” My dad said he and mom needed to talk to me. His voice was serious. He then dropped a bombshell and said it was me getting married until I turn 35, or I wouldn’t see a cent from the inheritance.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. They blackmailed me and forced me into something I was clearly not ready for. But they didn’t think it was a blackmail. What’s most, they accused me of robbing them from having grandchildren and enjoying with them while they were still young.

Weeks passed by since the conversation and I refused to take any of their calls. I wouldn’t let anyone control my life in any way.

And then one day, as I was waking home, I spotted a homeless man dressed in old dirty clothes and out of the blue, I came up with what I though was a brilliant idea. The man was in his 30s, and he seemed like the perfect match for me. This way, I could teach my parents a lesson.

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Without giving it a second thought, I approached the homeless man and asked him if he wanted us to get married.

He looked at me as though I was crazy and just said, “Excuse me, what?”

I explained that I needed to get married ASAP and offered him a place to say, clean clothes, food, and some money if he agreed to be my husband.

“Are you for real?” he asked, clearly very confused by my awkward offer.

But I assured him I wasn’t kidding and introduced myself. “I’m Miley, by the way.” He shook my hand and said his name was Stan.

The next thing I did was take him shopping. To my surprise, he was even more handsome when clean-shaven and well-dressed.

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Some days later, I introduced him to my parents. Needless to say, he charmed them with his made-up stories about love. I even assured them that we dated for some time, but I wanted to make sure he was the one before I introduced them to him.

Over time, Stan and I became very close.

Our relationship felt like a beautiful friendship of two roommates who needed to pretend they were madly in love every now and then.

I loved spending time with Stan, but the thought that he always refused to share the story of how he ended up being homeless worried me and frustrated me at the same time. Yet, I didn’t want to force him into telling me something he clearly wasn’t ready for.

Months passed by, and what seemed to be an ordinary day like any other, turned into an incredible experience and a life-changing event for me. I went home and noticed rose petals on the floor that led to the living room. There stood Stan. But he wasn’t dressed in the usual outfit of a simple T-shirt and jeans. Instead, he wore a tuxedo that seemed to cost more than my monthly salary.

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I was confused. “Stan, where did you find that suit?” I asked him. “What is going on?”

Stan then came closer and told me that these last couple of months were the best of his life, saying he wanted our marriage to be real. He asked me to marry him again and gave me the most beautiful ring.

Honestly, I did have feelings for him, but this act caught me by surprise. I needed an explanation. How could someone who was living on the streets be able to afford such an expensive ring.

“Miley, it’s time that I tell you the truth,” he said, and I wasn’t prepared for what I heard next.

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It turned out Stan was the owner of a huge company, but his brothers forged some company’s documents and fakes his signature, leaving him with nothing. They then bribed his lawyer and pulled strings at the police station where he tried to file a report against them.

He became homeless and had no money to fight his brothers, but meeting me changed everything.

Stan finally decided to contact the only law firm his brothers couldn’t bribe, the competitor firm of their lawyers.

He begged them to accept his case and promised them a substantial payout. They didn’t want to represent him without an advance payment, but realizing they could outsmart their rivals made them change their minds.

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And the outcome? A court case set for the following month and all his documents and bank accounts restored.

Stan’s story was too overwhelming for me. I confessed I had feelings for him, but told him to ask me to marry him again in six months, time given to us to see if we would still want this. He agreed and embraced me, telling me I was his light at the end of the tunnel; the woman who saved him and helped him get his life back.

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Bored Daddy

Love and Peace