1 septembre 2026

I Married a Janitor to Spite My Wealthy Dad; When My Dad Came to Speak with My Husband… He Fell to His Knees at His W0rds*

« Anna, you’re our only child. You have a responsibility. Can’t you understand that? » he said one evening over yet another quiet dinner.

One cool autumn afternoon, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stepped out of the house, leaving behind the cold silence that felt more like a tomb than a home, and started walking through the city. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I needed to escape, if only for a few hours.

As I turned a corner, I saw him. He was a young man with a slight limp, sweeping leaves off the sidewalk in front of a row of shops.

He moved slowly, carefully, as if each sweep of the broom was part of some quiet ritual. There was something peaceful in the way he worked, like he was part of the city itself.

Without even thinking, I walked over to him.

« Excuse me, » I said, my voice shaking. He looked up, surprised, but didn’t say a word, just waited.

« Hi… I » I took a breath, steadying myself. « I need a husband. How would you feel about getting married today? »

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