“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.”

A woman looking at her daughter | Source: Midjourney

“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?

A woman looking at her mother | Source: Midjourney

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.

A homeless man | Source: Pexels

part2