My parents have been on my case about getting married for as long as I can remember. I feel like they have a timer ticking away in their heads, counting down the seconds until my hair starts turning white.As a result, every family dinner turned into an impromptu matchmaking session.“Miley, honey,” my mom, Martha, would start. “You remember the Johnsons’ son? He just got promoted to regional manager at his firm. Maybe you two should grab coffee sometime?”“Mom, I’m not interested in dating right now,” I’d say. “I’m focused on my career.”“But sweetheart,” my dad, Stephen, would chime in, “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 guys and my friends,” I’d counter. “That’s enough for me right now.”But they wouldn’t let up. It was a constant barrage of “What about so-and-so?” and “Did you hear about this nice young man?”One night, things took a turn for the worse.We were having our usual Sunday dinner when my parents dropped a bombshell.“Miley,” my dad said in a serious tone. “Your mother and I have been thinking.”“Oh boy, here we go,” I mumbled.“We’ve decided,” he continued, ignoring my sarcasm, “that unless you’re married by your 35th birthday, you won’t see a cent of our inheritance.”“What?” I blurted out. “You can’t be serious!”“We are,” my mom chimed in. “We’re not getting any younger, honey. We want to see you settled and happy. And we want grandchildren while we’re still young enough to enjoy them.”

“This is insane,” I sputtered. “You can’t blackmail me into getting married!”“It’s not blackmail,” my dad insisted. “It’s, uh, it’s incentive.”I stormed out of their house that night, unable to believe what just happened. They’d given me an ultimatum, implying that I needed to find a husband in a few months or kiss my inheritance goodbye.I was angry, but not because I wanted the money. It was more about the principle of the thing. How dare they try to control my life like this?For weeks, I didn’t answer their calls or visit them. Then, one evening, I got an excellent idea.I was walking home from work, thinking about spreadsheets and deadlines, when I spotted him. A man, probably in his late 30s, sat on the sidewalk with a cardboard sign asking for change.He looked rough, had an unkempt beard, and wore dirty clothes, but there was something in his eyes. A kindness and a sadness that made me pause.That’s when an idea struck me. It was crazy, but it felt like the perfect solution to all my problems.“Excuse me,” I said to the man. “This might sound crazy, but, um, would you like to get married?”The man’s eyes widened in shock. “I’m sorry, what?”“Look, I know this is weird, but hear me out,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I need to get married ASAP. It would be a marriage of convenience. I’d provide you with a place to live, clean clothes, food, and some money. In return, you’d just have to pretend to be my husband. What do you say?”He stared at me for what felt like an eternity. I was sure he thought I was kidding.“Lady, are you for real?” he asked.“Completely,” I assured him. “I’m Miley, by the way.”“Stan,” he replied, still looking bewildered. “And you’re seriously offering to marry a homeless guy you just met?”I nodded.“I know it sounds insane, but I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything. Just a desperate woman with meddling parents.”“Well, Miley, I gotta 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 spark in his eyes again. “You know what? Why the hell not. You’ve got yourself a deal, future wife.”And just like that, my life took a turn I never could have imagined.I took Stan shopping for new clothes, got him cleaned up at a salon, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that underneath all that grime was a rather handsome man.Three days later, I introduced him to my parents as my secret fiancé. To say they were shocked would be an understatement.“Miley!” my mom exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”“Oh, you know, I wanted to make sure it was 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 beautifully. He charmed my parents with made-up stories of our whirlwind romance.A month later, we were married.I made sure to get a rock-solid prenup, just in case my little scheme backfired. But to my surprise, living with Stan wasn’t half bad.He was funny, smart, and always ready to help around the house. We fell into an easy friendship, almost like roommates who occasionally had to pretend to be madly in love.However, there was just one thing that nagged at me.Whenever I asked Stan about his past, about how he ended up on the streets, he’d clam up. His eyes would cloud over, and he’d quickly change the subject. It was a mystery that both intrigued and frustrated me.Then came the day that changed everything.It was a regular day when I returned home from work. As I entered the house, a trail of rose petals caught my attention. It led me into the living room.The sight that greeted me in the living room left me speechless. The entire room was filled with roses, and a huge heart made of petals was on the floor.And there, in the center of it all, stood Stan.But this wasn’t the Stan I knew. Gone were the comfortable jeans and T-shirts I gave him.Instead, he was dressed in a sleek black tuxedo that looked like it cost more than my monthly rent. And in his hand, he held a small velvet box.“Stan?” I managed to squeak out. “What’s going on?”He smiled, and I swear my heart skipped a beat.“Miley,” he said. “I wanted to thank you for accepting me. You’ve made me incredibly happy. I would 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 past month we’ve spent together has been the happiest of my life. Will you marry me? For real this time?”I stood there with eyes wide open, struggling to process what was happening. A thousand questions raced through my mind, but one pushed its way to the front.“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,” he said before taking a deep breath. “You see, I never told you how I became homeless because it was too complicated, and it could have put you in a difficult position. And I loved our life together so much.”“I became homeless because my brothers decided to get rid of me and take over my company,” he continued. “They forged documents, faked my signatures, and even stole my identity. One day, they dropped me off in this town, miles away from home. When I tried going to the police, they pulled strings, and I never got any help. They even bribed my lawyer.”I quietly listened as Stan poured out his story.