I Asked Homeless Man to Be My Pretend Fiancé Only to Discover He Was Part of My Mother’s Secret Past — Story of the Day

I was tired of my family’s endless questions about my love life, so I had a wild plan. I found and brought a homeless man as my pretend fiancé to the holiday dinner. Everything seemed perfect until my mother’s reaction revealed a shocking connection between them.

I sat in my car, staring at the park entrance, dreading the upcoming weekend with my family. Every holiday visit was the same: my mom’s subtle looks, my dad’s hopeful smiles, and the never-ending barrage of questions.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

When are you getting married? Have you met someone?

It was exhausting, and the thought of another round of it was more than I could handle.

Suddenly, my eyes fell on a man sitting alone on a bench, huddled in a tattered coat. He looked worn out like life had handed him more than his share of troubles. His sad eyes and the deep lines on his face still made him look like a handsome man. That’s when it hit me. Crazy idea!

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Could he be my fiancé for the weekend?” I muttered to myself.

It was insane, but it could work. Anything to keep my family off my back. I got out of the car and walked over to him. He looked up, and we stared at each other.

“Hey,” I started, feeling awkward. “I know this is going to sound strange, but… would you be willing to pretend to be my fiancé? Just for a weekend. In return, I can offer you a warm place to stay, new clothes, and a nice meal.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, he said nothing. His gaze lingered on mine as if he were trying to understand why someone like me would make such an offer. Then, to my surprise, he nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

I was shocked at how easily he agreed. No questions. No hesitation. That made me a little nervous. But at that point, I didn’t care.

“Great,” I said. “Let’s get you ready for the weekend.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

After we got back home, I handed the stranger some clothes that belonged to my ex. His things were still in my closet, and honestly, I couldn’t think of a better use for them.

“Here, these should fit you,” I said, offering a clean shirt and jeans. “You can take a shower if you’d like. I’ll make us some dinner.”

“Well, thanks,” he said with a small smile. “A shower sounds amazing.”

As he headed into the bathroom, I kept myself busy chopping vegetables and trying to ignore the nervousness building up inside me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Sharing my home with a stranger… Mia, what are you doing? You still don’t know his name!

When the stranger emerged from the bathroom, I heard the door creak and turned around. He stood there, a towel slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp, and to my surprise, he looked completely different.

“Well, that’s the best shower I’ve had in years,” he joked.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The awkwardness I’d felt earlier seemed to vanish in an instant.

“Glad to hear it. I hope the dinner will be just as good.”

He glanced at the table, eyeing the plates I’d set out. “Smells incredible. I am Christopher, by the way.” He smiled at me, sitting down at the table.

Feeling a bit shy, I only replied, “Mia.”

As we sat down to eat, he took the first bite and nodded. “It’s perfect. Haven’t had a home-cooked meal in a long time.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

We ate in comfortable silence for a bit, and then the conversation started flowing naturally.

“So,” I said, breaking the quiet. “Any favorite movies or books?”

He thought for a moment before answering. “I always loved old westerns. And books? Probably The Old Man and the Sea. Simple, but there’s something about it.”

“Really? Hemingway? I wouldn’t have guessed,” I said, a little surprised. “I thought you’d go for something darker.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He chuckled. “You’re not wrong, but sometimes, simple stories hit the hardest.”

“I get that.”

We spent the rest of the evening talking about random topics that made us laugh. He had a dry sense of humor that caught me off guard, and by the end of dinner, I felt surprisingly comfortable around him.

Late in the evening, I went back into the kitchen to grab a glass of water before bed. I noticed the dishes had already been washed and stacked neatly by the sink.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Did you… do the dishes?” I asked Christopher, peeking around the corner.

“Seemed like the least I could do.”

I smiled, genuinely touched by the gesture. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“Good night, Christopher.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

The next day, everything moved quickly. We had one day left before the weekend with my family, and there was still so much to do.

First, we went to the hair salon. As the stylist worked, Christopher sat quietly, letting the transformation happen. I watched in amazement as his shaggy hair was trimmed into something neat and polished.

“This feels weird,” he muttered, looking at himself in the mirror.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Good weird or bad weird?” I teased.

“Definitely good,” he said with a smirk.

By the time we hit the shops to pick out new clothes, he was starting to look like a completely different person.

***

The holiday dinner started well enough. My parents were delighted to see Christopher, and I could almost feel my mother’s pride as she glanced at me, finally quieting her usual questions about my personal life.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Christopher played his part perfectly—polite, attentive, and even charming when he spoke. I began to relax, thinking that maybe my crazy plan had worked.

“Christopher, right?” my mother asked, smiling brightly. “You look so familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before? On TV, maybe?”

She laughed lightly as if she had just made a harmless joke.

Christopher politely shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. Maybe I just have one of those faces.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

My father chuckled, clearly amused by my mother’s playful banter. “Well, if you’re on TV, I’ll have to start watching more closely.”

“So, Christopher,” Mom continued, “what did you do before you met Mia? Business, right?”

Christopher paused, glancing at my mother a bit too long before answering.

“Yes, business,” he said quietly, but there was something in his tone that felt different. “But everything changed for me about five years ago.”

My heart skipped a beat.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Wait… This isn’t part of the plan.

I shot him a quick look, hoping he’d catch on, but he continued. “There was an accident. A car accident. It… changed my life completely.”

This definitely isn’t something we talked about.

My mother’s face went pale, her fingers clenched the tablecloth, knuckles turning white. Her expression darkened as if she had just pieced something together.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“A car accident?” she echoed. Her words had sucked the warmth out of the room. “That’s… unfortunate.”

My father glanced at her. “Olivia, are you okay?”

But she wasn’t listening to him. “Not everyone walks away from accidents unscathed, do they?”

Christopher didn’t flinch, quietly sipping his wine.

“He’s not the kind of man you need,” Mom said bluntly, her voice trembling with anger.

I was taken aback. My father’s eyes widened in shock, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Christopher calmly set his glass down. “Excuse me. I’ll step outside for a moment.”

As he left, I turned to my mother. “What was that about? He didn’t do anything wrong!”

“There’s something you need to know, Mia. Five years ago, I was in a car accident,” she began, her voice lowering as though she were afraid someone else might hear.

“It was late at night, outside the city. There were no witnesses. The man I hit… was Christopher.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

My heart dropped. “What?”

“Your Christopher,” she said bitterly, “was under the influence that night. I demanded he get tested, but he refused. No one saw what happened, so I chose not to take him to court. But Mia, you need to understand… He’s dangerous. You can’t trust him.”

Christopher? Under the influence?

Finally, I broke the silence. “I need to talk to him.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Christopher was leaning against the fence, staring off into the night. His expression was calm, but I could see the sadness in his eyes.

“Christopher,” I called softly.

He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. “My last name is Hartman. Yes, I was in that accident. I was on sedatives that night—prescribed for my anxiety after my wife died. I was driving carefully.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, simple ring.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“You’re the first woman I’ve met since my wife’s death that I’ve wanted to leave something with. This was hers. Thank you for dinner, Mia. It was… more than I deserved.”

He handed me the ring, then nodded slightly before walking away.

“Wait,” I whispered, but the words got lost in the cold night air.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the ring in my hand. When I walked back inside, my mother was waiting.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“You didn’t tell me the whole truth, did you?” I demanded.

She sighed. “No. I didn’t. I was driving too fast that night. I… I was scared, Mia.”

“Is he worth chasing?”

The look in her eyes said it all. Yes. But it was already too late.

***

I couldn’t stop thinking about Christopher. His story, the accident, the weight he carried. It haunted me.

I placed an ad in the local paper, something simple but direct:

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Christopher Hartman, if you see this, please meet me at the restaurant where we last had dinner. I eat there every evening. Mia.”

I felt a little foolish, not knowing if he’d ever read it or if he even wanted to see me again. But I had to try. There was too much left unsaid.

***

The day after placing the ad, I arrived at the restaurant early. As the minutes ticked by, doubt started creeping in.

Maybe he didn’t see it. Maybe he didn’t want to.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But then, just as I was about to give up, the door opened. Christopher stepped in, scanning the room until they landed on me. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he walked over.

“I saw your ad,” he said, sitting down across from me.

We locked eyes for a moment before I spoke. “There’s so much I need to tell you. I found out about your past… about the accident… My mother finally admitted she was at fault, too. And…. she took your money!”

“I didn’t want to blame anyone. After my wife died… nothing mattered.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

We sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle between us.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to be,” he said, his voice soft. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, but still… I want to help. My mother wants to make things right. She’s returning what she took from you.”

We spent the rest of the evening talking. It wasn’t about pretending anymore. It was real. By the end of the night, I realized something. I had fallen in love with Christopher. And the best part? He felt the same.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

An Elderly Woman Is Turned Away from Business Class until a Little Boy’s Photo Slips Out of Her Purse

A poor old woman decided to fly business class to get closer to her son. However, she faced rejection from passengers on board until they discovered her true identity.

Rhea felt self-conscious. The old woman had gotten on the first plane to leave the airport that morning, and she sat in a seat in business class where the well-to-do folks stayed.

As she entered the cabin, nobody spared her a glance, but when she located her seat and sat, eyes turned towards her. The reason was simple; she stood out like a sore thumb.

Where the other men and women present all wore fancy and expensive-looking clothes, Rhea wore her old, broken-in clothes — it was her best, but it looked drab compared to what the others were wearing.

The man next to her had his face completely buried in a newspaper when she sat down, so he did not quickly notice her. When he put down the issue, he looked to his side and winced at her appearance, then he signaled a flight attendant.

“What is this?” he asked, pointing to Rhea.

The flight attendant looked a bit mortified at the man’s tone, but after verifying the woman’s seat number, she faced the man and replied, “This passenger took a seat according to the ticket she paid for.”

The man looked like he would vomit at any minute because of Rhea’s presence, and before he even proceeded to talk, he unfolded a pristine handkerchief and used it to cover his nose. Then he said, “I don’t know what’s on her ticket, but I bought a seat in business class to get away from people like her, now it just feels like I’m in a cheap alley with homeless people.”

The altercation had gotten the attention of many in the cabin, and some seemed to be in support of the man. One plump woman bedecked from her head to her feet in jewelry piped up.

“If I wanted to fly with such riff-raff, I would buy an economy class ticket,” she said, and a murmur of agreement moved through the passengers.

The murmur quickly took on a life of its own and soon led to a squabble the attendant tried to quell, but the rich folks would not hear of it — the woman had to go.

“Can’t you see she doesn’t belong here?” one man said.

“Is this how low this airline has fallen? How can such a person afford the bill?” another asked.

“We want her gone and we want a formal apology for allowing us to come into contact with such filth,” the man beside Rhea said.

He and a few other passengers were on their feet and refused to sit until they got what they wanted. Rhea sat there, listening to them arguing and trampling all over her dignity.

“I’m okay, this too shall pass,” she kept repeating under her breath like a mantra.

Still, she heard how they spoke of her, and it hurt her very deeply that people could be so cruel. Before she knew it, sad tears cascaded down her slightly wrinkled cheeks.

“Perhaps I’ll just leave,” Rhea thought, then started to gather her things with shaky hands.

As she stood up to go, she stumbled, and rather than catch her as instinct should have made him, the man beside her flinched away as if to avoid getting splattered with mud.

Rhea fell to her knees and inadvertently spilled the contents of her purse. She started to collect her things with trembling hands, knowing she was the focus of everyone in the cabin.

An expensively dressed old lady who had been sleeping peacefully until the ruckus woke her got up from her seat and also went down on her knees to help Rhea.

At that, the cabin went silent, and the passengers stared dumbfounded as one of them treated Rhea like a human. The first thing the woman picked up was a passport photograph of a little boy.

“Thank you very much,” Rhea whispered as she collected it from her.

“This is my son,” she said with a teary smile, still on her knees. “He is the pilot of this plane.”

“He must have grown up to become a handsome young man,” the rich old woman said.

“How could I know? I had to give him up for adoption when he was just five because I had no means to take care of him.” As she spoke, tears fell from her eyes, and the cabin remained silent.

“I’ve been looking for him for years but I’ve not been able to find him. Recently, I found out he became a pilot so I started to go from airport to airport looking for him. Today I found him but the only way I could get close to him was by boarding this flight.”

Rhea looked up at the people around, most of whom averted their eyes shamefully, then she continued.

“I’m sorry for making you all feel uncomfortable but I just wanted to be as close to my son as possible which is why I saved up my money to get this chance. The business class is closer to him and I’ve never flown before so I thought it would make a great birthday gift for myself.”

The passengers listened to her story, and by the time she stopped talking, many were crying. Rhea got up eventually and went with the flight attendants, who were hell-bent on introducing her to her son.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” she asked, resisting their urging. “What if he hates me for abandoning him?” Before the flight attendant could speak, the man who had been against her sitting beside him beat her to it.

“You had no choice, I believe he will understand that,” he said before quickly diving behind his newspaper again. He was also ashamed. Rhea left with the flight attendant to finally meet her son.

After some time, a man’s voice was heard on the plane. “This is the captain speaking… there is a special person flying on this plane — my mom, and it’s her birthday today.”

Everyone applauded the old lady, and those who had ridiculed her before apologized for their mistake. When the plane landed, the pilot, whose name was Joseph, met up with his mother, and finally, after many years of estrangement, Rhea held her son again.

What did we learn from this story?

Choose to be kind. When the man beside Rhea started to clamor for her to leave the cabin, others joined in, and even though the woman had done nothing, they may have succeeded in making her leave. The only person who did not do what they did was another old woman. She stood up for Rhea even though she could easily have just joined the haughty passengers, and her decision changed everything.
Never give up. Rhea looked for her son for years but could not locate him; however, that did not stop her. She kept looking, and she was ready to do anything to meet him, including saving up her hard-earned money for an expensive business class flight. Her perseverance and sacrifices were rewarded in the end, and she was able to meet him.
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