When I offered to marry a homeless stranger, I thought I had it all figured out. It seemed like the perfect arrangement to please my parents without any strings attached. Little did I know I’d be in for a shock when I walked into my own house a month later.
I’m Miley, 34, and this is the story of how I went from being a happily single career woman to marrying a homeless man, only to have my world turned upside down in the most unexpected way.
My parents have been insisting I get married for as long as I can remember. I feel like they have a stopwatch in my head, counting down the seconds until my hair starts turning white.
As a result, every family dinner turns into an impromptu matchmaking session.
“Miley, honey,” my mother, Martha, began. “Remember the Johnsons’ son? He just got promoted to regional manager at his company. Maybe you two could get coffee sometime?”
“Mom, I’m not interested in dating right now,” I’d say. “I’m focused on my career.”
“But darling,” my father, Stephen, would say to me, “your career won’t keep you warm at night. Don’t you want someone to share your life with?”
“I share my life with you and my friends,” I replied. “That’s enough for me right now.”
But they didn’t give up. It was a constant barrage of “What’s up with so-and-so?” and “Have you heard about this nice young man?”
One night, things got worse.
We were having our usual Sunday dinner when my parents dropped a bombshell.
“Miley,” my father said seriously. “Your mother and I have been thinking.”
“Oh, here we go,” I muttered.
“We’ve decided,” he continued, ignoring my sarcasm, “that unless you’re married before you turn 35, you won’t see a penny of our inheritance.”
“What?” I blurted out. “You can’t be serious!”
“Yes, we do,” my mother replied. “We’re not getting any younger, honey. We want to see you settled and happy. And we want to have grandchildren while we’re young enough to enjoy them.”
“This is crazy,” I snapped. “You can’t blackmail me into getting married.”
“It’s not blackmail,” my father insisted. “It’s an incentive.”
That night I stormed out of their house, unable to believe what had just happened. I’d been given an ultimatum, implying that I had to find a husband within a few months or say goodbye to my inheritance.
I was angry, but not because I wanted the money. It was more about the principle of the matter. How dare they control my life like this?
For weeks, I didn’t answer their calls or visit them. Then, one night, I had a great idea.
I was walking home from work, thinking about spreadsheets and deadlines, when I saw him. A man, probably in his 30s, was sitting on the sidewalk holding a cardboard sign asking for help.
He looked rough, with a scruffy beard and dirty clothes, but there was something in his eyes. A kindness and a sadness that made me stop.
That’s when an idea struck me. It was crazy, but it seemed like the perfect solution to all my problems.
“Excuse me,” I said to the man. “This may sound crazy, but would you like to get married?”
The man’s eyes snapped open. “Excuse me, what?”
“Look, I know this is weird, but hear me out,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I need to get married as soon as possible. It would be a marriage of convenience. I would provide you with a place to live, clean clothes, food, and some money. In return, you would just have to pretend to be my husband. What do you think?”
He stared at me for what seemed like an eternity. I was sure he thought I was joking.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” I assured him. “By the way, I’m Miley.”
“Stan,” she replied, still looking puzzled. “And you’re seriously offering to marry a homeless man you just met?”
I nodded.
“I know it sounds crazy, but I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything. Just a desperate woman with meddling parents.”
“Well, Miley, I have to say this is the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“So, is that a yes?” I asked.
He looked at me for a long moment, and I saw that sparkle in his eyes again. “You know what? Why not? Deal, bride-to-be.”
And just like that, my life took a turn I never could have imagined.
After a nice bath, I took Stan shopping for some new clothes and a barber’s, and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that beneath all that filth was a rather handsome man.
Three days later, I introduced him to my parents as my secret fiancé. To say they were stunned would be an understatement.
“Miley!” my mom exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Oh, you know, I wanted to make sure you were serious before I said anything,” I lied. “But Stan and I are so in love, aren’t we, honey?”
Stan, to his credit, played along wonderfully. He charmed my parents with made-up stories about our whirlwind romance.
A month later we got married.
I made sure to get a rock-solid prenup, just in case my little plan fell through. But, to my surprise, living with Stan wasn’t so bad.
He was funny, intelligent, and always willing to help out around the house. We struck up an easy friendship, almost like roommates who occasionally had to pretend they were madly in love.
However, there was something that bothered me.
Whenever I asked him about his past, about how he’d ended up on the streets, he fell silent. His eyes glazed over, and he quickly changed the subject. It was a mystery that both intrigued and frustrated me.
Then came the day that changed everything.
It was a normal day when I came home from work. As I walked into the house, a trail of rose petals caught my eye. It led me to the living room.
The sight that greeted me in the living room left me speechless. The entire room was filled with roses, and on the floor was a huge heart made of petals.
And there, in the center of it all, was Stan.
But this wasn’t the Stan I knew. Gone were the comfy jeans and T-shirts I’d given him.
Instead, he was dressed in an elegant black tuxedo that looked like it cost more than my monthly rent. In his hand, he held a small velvet box.
“Stan?” I managed to say. “What’s going on here?”
He smiled, and I swear my heart skipped a beat.
“Miley,” he said. “I wanted to thank you for having me. You’ve made me incredibly happy. I’d be even happier if you truly loved me and became my wife, not just in name, but in real life. I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, and this last month we’ve spent together has been the happiest of my life. Will you marry me? For real this time?”
I stood there wide-eyed, struggling to process what was happening. A thousand questions raced through my mind, but one pushed through.
“Stan,” I said slowly, “where did you get the money for all this? The tuxedo, the flowers, and that ring?”
“I guess it’s time I told you the truth,” she said before taking a deep breath. “You see, I never told you how I became homeless because it was too complicated and could have put you in a difficult situation. And I loved our life together so much.”
“I became homeless because my brothers decided to get rid of me and take over my business,” he continued. “They forged documents, forged my signature, and even stole my identity. One day, they left me in this city, miles from home. When I tried to go to the police, they pulled strings and never helped me. They even bribed my lawyer.”
I listened silently as Stan told his story.
How he’d lost everything, how he’d spent months trying to survive on the streets. And then, how meeting me had given him the push he needed to fight.
“When you gave me a house, clean clothes, and a little money, I decided to fight,” he explained. “I contacted the best law firm in the country, one my brothers couldn’t influence because they work for their competitors.”
“I told them my story and promised a substantial payment,” he revealed. “At first, they were reluctant to take the case without an advance, but when they realized they could finally outsmart their rivals, they agreed. Thanks to them, a trial has been scheduled for next month, and my documents and bank accounts have been restored.”
He paused, looking at me with those kind eyes that had caught my attention for the first time.
“I’ll be honest with you,” he smiled. “I’m not a poor man. I’ve spent my whole life searching for love, but all the women I met were only interested in my money. You, however, were kind to me when you thought I had nothing. That’s why I fell in love with you. I’m sorry I kept all this from you for so long.”
I sank into the couch, unable to process his story. I couldn’t believe that the man I married on a whim was actually rich and harbored genuine feelings for me.
“Stan,” I finally managed to say, “you really took me by surprise. I have feelings for you too, but all this new information is overwhelming.”
He nodded in understanding and led me to the dining room table. We ate the dinner he’d prepared.
I shared my feelings with Stan when we finished eating.
“Stan, thank you for such a thoughtful gesture. No one has ever done anything like that for me in my life.” I felt a tear roll down my cheek as I spoke.
“I’ll marry you. That’s my decision now. But could you ask me again in six months? If my decision remains the same, we’ll have a real wedding. Let’s first see how life goes with all this new information for both of us. You’ve got a tough court battle ahead of you, and I’ll support you in it.”
Stan’s face lit up with a smile. “I’m so glad. Of course, I’ll ask you again in six months. But will you accept my ring now?”
I nodded, and he put the ring on my finger. We hugged and, for the first time, kissed. It wasn’t a Hollywood kiss, with fireworks and loud music, but it felt good. It was like coming home.
As I write this, I’m still trying to come to terms with everything that’s happened. I married a homeless man to spite my parents, and then I discovered he was actually a wealthy businessman with a heart of gold. Life works in mysterious ways.
If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: When a rich man cruelly mocks an elderly woman after a minor accident, no one dares to intervene… until Mark, a homeless man, steps forward, demanding respect. The rich man mocks Mark’s appearance, but the next day, fate reverses the script, and he’s on his knees begging for forgiveness.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to real events is purely coincidental and not the author’s intention.
The author and publisher do not guarantee the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters, and are not responsible for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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