At 34 years old, I was a career-driven woman who had no time for a relationship, and I didn’t want a messy commitment. My parents, on the other hand, were relentless. Every family gathering, every phone call, they’d drop hints or make comments about the urgency of me settling down. I wanted to make them happy, but on my terms, so I thought a quick, uncomplicated marriage was the answer.

I met the man on the street, and after a brief conversation, I proposed the idea. He didn’t have anything to lose, and I didn’t expect to gain anything more than a simple favor to check off my parents’ wish list. It was supposed to be an easy way to silence the pressure, no emotions, no strings attached. What I didn’t foresee was how this act of convenience would spiral into something that would shake my entire life.

A month later, I walked into my house, only to be met with a shock I could never have predicted. The stranger I had married had changed everything. He wasn’t just a homeless man in need of a roof over his head; he was now someone who had started to feel like more of a partner than I ever expected. Suddenly, the lines between convenience and reality began to blur, and I was left questioning everything I thought I knew about relationships, marriage, and what it truly means to connect with another person.