By pepko 
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. The same old questions about my love life were inevitable. When are you getting married? Have you met someone?
My eyes fell on a man sitting alone on a bench, looking weary. His sad eyes and deep lines still showed traces of handsomeness. An idea struck me, one that was both desperate and wild. Could he be my fiancé for the weekend?
I approached him, explaining my bizarre proposition. He listened, his gaze probing, then nodded in agreement. “Okay,” he said quietly, with no questions asked.
After bringing him home, I provided him with my ex’s clothes for a new look. As he showered, I prepared dinner, the nervousness building. When he emerged, he was transformed, looking years younger and more at ease.
He introduced himself as Christopher, and we shared an unexpectedly pleasant evening, talking about everything from books to life’s simple pleasures. His humor was dry, his manners impeccable; he even washed the dishes.
The next day, we prepared for the family dinner. A haircut and new clothes made Christopher look the part of a polished fiancé.
At dinner, my family was charmed by Christopher. My mother’s initial delight turned to recognition, though. She asked if she’d seen him before, leading to an awkward moment when Christopher spoke of a life-changing accident five years prior.
My mother’s face paled, her reaction suggesting a deeper connection. She abruptly stated, “He’s not the kind of man you need,” revealing that she had been in a car accident with Christopher, where she had hit him but found no witnesses, choosing not to pursue legal action against him for being under the influence.
Christopher left the table, and I followed to hear his side. He explained he was on prescribed sedatives for anxiety after his wife’s death, not alcohol, and handed me a ring that once belonged to his late wife, thanking me for the dinner.
Back inside, my mother admitted her guilt; she had been driving too fast that night and had taken Christopher’s money to cover her mistakes, thinking it would erase the incident.
Haunted by this revelation, I placed an ad in the local paper hoping to reconnect with Christopher. He responded, and we met again. This time, we talked openly about the past, and my mother’s decision to return what she had taken from him.
As we talked, I realized my feelings had deepened, and it turned out, so had his. What began as a pretense ended with the possibility of something real, turning an act of desperation into a story of unexpected love and redemption.