I never expected that answering a random Craigslist ad would change my entire life in just 3 days. But as I stood there in Emma Sinclair’s penthouse, watching her frantically pace back and forth in designer heels that probably cost more than my monthly rent, I realized I was about to make either the biggest mistake or the best decision of my life.

And the craziest part, she had no idea that I already knew exactly who she was before I walked through her door. So, let me get this straight,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend for the weekend while your parents are in town, and you’re willing to pay me $10,000 to do it?” Emma stopped pacing and turned to face me, her piercing blue eyes studying me carefully.

At 32, she was the youngest female CEO of a Fortune 500 company, though she introduced herself simply as Emma, who works in tech. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and her tailored blazer screamed money in a way that made me acutely aware of my worn jeans and faded t-shirt. Yes, that’s the deal.

My parents have been pressuring me about settling down for years. I told them I was bringing someone special home this weekend just to get them off my back. I didn’t think they’d actually fly across the country to meet him. She sighed, rubbing her temples. Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I’m desperate. All you have to do is be charming, pretend we’re madly in love, and then we go our separate ways on Monday. Simple.

Simple, right? Nothing simple about pretending to date one of the most powerful women in the country. Especially not when I had a six-year-old daughter waiting at home with the babysitter, a stack of unpaid medical bills on my kitchen counter, and a heart that had been locked up tight since my wife died three years ago.

“Not sleeping on the sofa, right?” I asked, only half joking. Emma’s perfect eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me? If I’m playing boyfriend, I’m not getting relegated to the couch. I have a bad back.” That was a lie. The truth was I needed to know exactly what I was getting myself into. A small smile played at the corner of her lips. You’ll have your own guest room, Mr. Carter.

I’m paying for your acting services, not anything else. I should have walked away right then. Should have told her to find someone else to play her little game. But $10,000 would cover Lily’s medical bills and maybe even put a dent in the debt that had been suffocating me since Sarah’s death. So instead, I extended my hand. Call me Jake, and you’ve got yourself a deal, Miss Sinclair.

The shock on her face when I used her last name, which she hadn’t given me, was just the beginning of what would become the most unexpected weekend of my life. What I didn’t know then was that Emma had a secret that would turn our fake relationship into something neither of us was prepared for.

And by Sunday night, one of us would be in the hospital fighting for their life. The first sign that this weekend would be nothing like I expected came when Emma showed up at my modest apartment the next morning. I’d given her my address so we could get our story straight before meeting her parents. I figured she’d send a car, not come herself.

But there she was, standing in my cluttered living room in jeans and a simple sweater that probably cost more than my rent, looking completely out of place among Lily’s scattered toys and my mismatched furniture. You have a child? She said, her voice flat as she stared at the framed photos of Lily on the wall. Yeah, I do.

Is that going to be a problem? I crossed my arms defensively. Because if it is, the deal’s off. Emma’s expression softened slightly. No, it’s not a problem. I just You didn’t mention it. You didn’t ask. I ran a hand through my hair. Look, I’ve got a sitter for the weekend. This won’t affect our arrangement. Before she could respond, the patter of small feet came down the hallway, and Lily appeared, still in her unicorn pajamas, her curly hair a wild mess around her face. “Daddy, who’s the pretty lady?” she asked, clutching her stuffed rabbit to

her chest. I watched Emma freeze, clearly uncomfortable, and felt a pang of regret for agreeing to this whole thing. But then, to my surprise, Emma knelt down to Lily’s level. “I’m Emma,” she said, her voice gentler than I’d heard it before. “I like your rabbit.” “Does he have a name?” “This is Mr. Hoppy,” Lily said, suddenly shy.

“He helps me be brave when I have to go to the doctor.” “Something flickered across Emma’s face at pain recognition. I couldn’t tell, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.” “Well, Mr. Hobby is doing an excellent job. You seem very brave to me. The moment was interrupted by my phone ringing, the babysitter calling to say she’d be late.

When I hung up, the panic must have shone on my face. Problem? Emma asked. Sitter’s car broke down. She won’t be here for another 2 hours, but we need to leave in one to make it to your parents’ hotel on time. I ran a hand through my hair, calculating how much an emergency sitter would cost and if I could even find one on such short notice. Emma was quiet for a moment, then surprised me again.

Bring her with us. What? Bring Lily. We’ll drop her at the sitters on the way. She checked her watch. We have time if we leave now. Your daughter can be part of our cover story. It actually makes it more believable that we’ve been dating. Seriously? I stared at her, trying to figure out her angle. You sure about this? Most people don’t want to deal with someone else’s kid.

Something hardened in her eyes. I’m not most people, Jake. And contrary to what the tabloids might say, I’m not some heartless corporate robot. She turned to Lily with a smile. How would you like to go on an adventure with your dad and me today? Lily’s face lit up. Can Mr. Hoppy come too? Of course, Emma said. And for the first time since I’d met her, her smile reached her eyes.

As I helped Lily get dressed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I just glimpsed something in Emma Sinclair that very few people ever got to see. And despite my best efforts to keep this strictly business, I was suddenly very curious to discover what else she might be hiding behind that polished exterior.

What I didn’t realize was that Emma was hiding something much bigger than just a softer side. Something that would put both of us in danger before the weekend was over. Emma’s parents were nothing like I expected. Based on her tense demeanor as we approached the upscale restaurant where we were meeting them for lunch, I’d pictured cold, demanding elitists.

Instead, Robert and Margaret Sinclair were warm, down to earth people who embraced me like I was already part of the family. “So, you’re the man who finally captured our Emma’s heart,” Margaret said, patting my hand across the table. “We were beginning to think she’d married her company.” “Mom,” Emma warned.

But there was affection in her voice. “What? It’s true. All work and no play. That’s our Emma.” Robert turned to me with a conspiratorial smile. So Jake, Emma tells us, “You’re a carpenter. That must be fascinating work.” I glanced at Emma, surprised she’d done her homework on me. “Yes, sir. I restore historic homes mostly. It’s not glamorous, but I love working with my hands.

” “And you have a daughter?” Margaret asked. Lily, she’s six. I pulled out my phone to show them a picture and they made all the appropriate noises of admiration. She has your eyes, Margaret observed. And her mother? The table went quiet. I felt Emma tense beside me. Sarah passed away 3 years ago. Cancer. The words still felt like stones in my mouth, heavy and hard to push out. Margaret’s hand flew to her heart.

Oh, I’m so sorry. How terrible for both of you. It’s been tough, I admitted, surprised by my own honesty. But Lily’s strong, stronger than me most days. Under the table, Emma’s hand found mine and squeezed. “It was meant to be part of our act, I knew, but the gentle pressure of her fingers against mine felt like a lifeline.” Well, Robert said, clearing his throat.

It seems our daughter has found herself a man of substance. That’s refreshing. Emma’s smile looked strained. Dad, please don’t start. What? After that last fellow, what was his name? The one with the hedge fund and the yacht. Preston. Margaret supplied. Right. Preston. All flash. No substance. This one’s got calluses on his hands and responsibility in his heart. That’s what you need, Emma.

I watched a flush creep up Emma’s neck. Can we please talk about something else? The conversation shifted to safer topics, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Emma’s hand had felt in mine, or the flash of vulnerability I’d seen in her eyes when her father had praised me.

For someone playing a part, those reactions seemed awfully genuine. After lunch, as we walked her parents back to their hotel, Emma’s father pulled me aside. I know my daughter, he said quietly. She works too hard, cares too much about that company of hers. But the way she looks at you. He shook his head. I haven’t seen her look at anyone like that since before the accident.

Accident? I asked before I could stop myself. Robert’s expression clouded. She hasn’t told you. Well, that’s Emma for you. Always keeping the important things locked away. He patted my shoulder. Just be patient with her, son. She’s worth the wait. Before I could ask what he meant, Emma appeared at my side, slipping her arm through mine with practiced ease.

“Dad, are you interrogating my boyfriend?” “Just getting to know him better,” Robert said innocently. “You found a good one this time.” Emma, don’t let him get away. As we said our goodbyes and walked toward Emma’s car, I couldn’t help but wonder what accident her father had been referring to and why Emma had kept it from me.

But more than that, I wondered why it bothered me so much that there were parts of her life she hadn’t shared, as if we were actually dating, as if I had any right to know her secrets. “Your parents are nice,” I said as we got into her sleek BMW. “Not what I expected.” Emma stared straight ahead, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. They like you. That’s good. It makes this easier.

What accident was your dad talking about? The car swerved slightly before Emma corrected it. He mentioned that said I should be patient with you because of it. She was quiet for so long. I thought she wasn’t going to answer. Finally, she said it was a long time ago. It’s not relevant to our arrangement. Seems pretty relevant if your dad’s bringing it up to your fake boyfriend.

Emma’s jaw tightened. I was engaged once 8 years ago. There was a car accident. He didn’t make it. Her voice was clinical, detached, as if she were reading a weather report. My parents think that’s why I work so much, to avoid dealing with it. They’re wrong. The raw pain beneath her words hit me like a physical blow. I knew that pain.

Lived with it every day. I’m sorry, I said softly. I know that doesn’t help, but I am. She glanced at me, something vulnerable flickering in her eyes. You do know, don’t you? That’s why this works. We’re both good at pretending we’re fine when we’re not. The honesty of her observation left me speechless.

For a moment, the walls between billionaire CEO and struggling single dad dissolved, and we were just two people who understood each other’s pain in a way few others could. The moment was shattered by Emma’s phone ringing through the car’s speakers. She answered it on the steering wheel. Sinclair, Miss Sinclair, it’s Jenkins. We have a situation at the office.

The Nakamura deal is falling apart. They’re threatening to walk unless you personally intervene. Emma’s entire demeanor changed. Her vulnerability vanishing behind a mask of cool professionalism. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Have the contracts ready and get Nakamura on the line. She ended the call and turned to me. All business again. Change of plans.

I need to handle this crisis. I’ll drop you at home and pick you up for dinner with my parents tonight at 7:00. Just like that, the connection we’d shared was gone, replaced by the transactional nature of our arrangement. And I told myself that was for the best.

Getting emotionally involved with Emma Sinclair would be like trying to catch lightning in a bottle. Thrilling, but ultimately destructive. What I didn’t know then was that the crisis at Emma’s company wasn’t just a business problem. It was the first sign of something much more sinister, something that would put both of us in danger before the weekend was over.

Dinner with Emma’s parents that night started well enough. We were at an exclusive restaurant with a view of the city skyline, the kind of place where they don’t put prices on the menu because if you have to ask, you can’t afford it. Emma looked stunning in a simple black dress, her hair down around her shoulders for the first time since I’d met her.

The sight of her laughing at something her father said made my chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with our arrangement. “So Jake,” Margaret said, leaning forward with interest. Emma tells us you two met at a charity auction. “That must have been romantic.” I glanced at Emma, who nodded slightly. “We’d rehearsed this.

It was actually pretty awkward,” I said with a laugh. “I was there doing some restoration work on the venue, not as a guest.” Emma outbid everyone for a private dinner with some celebrity chef and I accidentally spilled coffee on her dress afterward. He offered to pay for the dry cleaning. Emma continued smoothly.

I told him he could buy me dinner instead. And the rest is history. I finished reaching for her hand across the table. The gesture was meant to sell our story, but the way her fingers intertwined with mine felt surprisingly natural. “Well, I think it’s wonderful,” Margaret said. And how does Lily feel about Emma? The question caught me off guard.

In our rehearsed story, we’d focused on how we met, not on how my daughter fit into the picture. She uh Lily and I are still getting to know each other. Emma cut in. But she’s an amazing child. Smart, brave, her voice softened. She reminds me a lot of myself at that age. Actually, the genuine affection in her tone surprised me.

She’d only met Lily briefly that morning, but she spoke about her with real warmth. “Emma always wanted children,” Margaret said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “Even after,” “Mom,” Emma interrupted sharply. “Not now.” An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Robert cleared his throat and changed the subject to the wine selection.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about what Margaret had almost revealed. Something about Emma wanting children even after what? The accident she’d mentioned or something else. The rest of dinner passed pleasantly enough, but I could feel Emma withdrawing, her responses becoming more clipped, her smiles not quite reaching her eyes. When her phone buzzed for the third time, she excused herself to take the call.

Is everything okay with work? I asked when she returned, looking tense. Fine, she said shortly. Just the usual fires to put out. Robert frowned. Emma, you promised no work this weekend. You’re always saying next time we’ll have your full attention, but next time never comes. Dad, please. Not here.

Then when? You’ve been running yourself into the ground for years. Even with this young man in your life now, you still can’t put that phone down for one evening. Robert Margaret warned, but he wasn’t finished. You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You’re punishing yourself. For 8 years, you’ve been punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault. Emma’s face went white. Stop it.

Michael wouldn’t want this for you. He wouldn’t want. Don’t you dare tell me what he would want. Emma’s voice cut through the restaurant, causing nearby diners to turn and stare. She stood abruptly, throwing her napkin on the table. I need some air. She stormed out, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

I hesitated, torn between following her and staying with her parents. “Go after her,” Margaret said softly. She needs someone right now, even if she won’t admit it. I found Emma outside, pacing on the sidewalk, her arms wrapped around herself against the evening chill.

Without thinking, I shrugged off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Your dad’s worried about you,” I said quietly. “They both are. They don’t understand.” Her voice was tight with emotion. “Nobody does.” “Then help me understand.” I stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop pacing, Emma. This weekend was supposed to be just business.

But I’m standing out here in the cold because I actually care what’s going on with you. That wasn’t part of our deal. She looked up at me, vulnerability and defiance waring in her eyes. You want the truth? Fine. Michael wasn’t just my fiance. He was my business partner. We started Sinclair Tech together. The night of the accident, we were arguing about the company’s direction.

I was driving. I was distracted. Her voice broke. The truck came out of nowhere. Emma. I walked away with a few scratches. He died on impact. She laughed bitterly. And you know what the worst part is? The company we were fighting about? It’s now worth billions. Everything I’ve accomplished, everything I’ve built, it should have been ours together. The raw pain in her voice hit me like a physical blow.

I knew that survivor’s guilt all too well. So that’s why you work yourself to death to prove his death wasn’t in vain. To make it mean something, she whispered. But lately, lately, I’ve been wondering if I’ve been hiding behind work to avoid living. My parents are right about that much. Without thinking, I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a pretty good job of living right now. Something shifted in her eyes, a softening, a surrender. And then she was leaning forward, her lips meeting mine, and a kiss that was definitely not part of our arrangement. For a moment, I forgot everything. The deal, the money, the fact that we were from completely different worlds.

All I knew was the warmth of her lips and the feeling that something long dormant inside me was waking up. When we broke apart, she looked as stunned as I felt. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have.” My phone rang, cutting her off. It was my regular babysitter’s number. “Jake.” Her voice was panicked. “It’s Lily.

We’re at the emergency room. She’s having trouble breathing. The world tilted beneath my feet. I’m on my way. I hung up and turned to Emma, fear gripping my chest. It’s Lily. She’s in the hospital. Without hesitation, Emma flagged down a taxi. Let’s go. The next few hours were a blur of hospital corridors, doctors voices, and the terrifying sight of my little girl hooked up to machines.

asthma attack. They said severe but treatable. She’d be okay, but they wanted to keep her overnight for observation. Through it all, Emma never left my side. She made calls, arranged for a private room, consulted with specialists, all without being asked. When Lily finally fell asleep, medication easing her breathing, Emma and I sat side by side in uncomfortable hospital chairs.

“You didn’t have to stay,” I said, exhaustion making my voice rough. Yes, I did. She reached over and took my hand. Jake, I know this weekend started as a business arrangement, but it’s not anymore. At least not for me. I looked at our intertwined fingers. This is crazy. You know that, right? We’re from completely different worlds.

Maybe that’s exactly why it works. She smiled softly. You see me, the real me. Not the CEO, not the billionaire, just Emma. And you see me, I realized. Not just the struggling single dad, but me. She leaned her head against my shoulder, and we sat in comfortable silence, watching Lily’s chest rise and fall with each breath.

“I should call my parents,” Emma said. Eventually, “Let them know what happened.” As she stepped out to make the call, I checked my phone and found a text from an unknown number. Tell Sinclair to back off the Nakamura deal or next time it won’t just be an asthma attack. Kids are so fragile, aren’t they? My blood ran cold. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Someone had deliberately triggered Lily’s asthma as a warning to Emma.

And now my daughter was in danger because of our fake relationship that wasn’t feeling so fake anymore. When Emma returned, I showed her the text. Her face went pale. “This is my fault,” she whispered. “The Nakamura deal, it’s worth billions, but it would put a major competitor out of business. I never thought they’d go this far. We need to call the police.

” “No,” her voice was firm. “These people have connections everywhere. If we go to the police, they’ll deny everything and might come after Lily again. She squeezed my hand. I’ll handle this my way. Emma, these people threatened my daughter. I’m not just going to sit back and trust me, she said, her eyes intense.

I protect what’s mine. And right now, that includes you and Lily. The possessiveness in her voice should have alarmed me, but instead it sent a thrill through me. In just two days, Emma Sinclair had somehow become someone I couldn’t imagine walking away from. What I didn’t know then was that Emma’s plan to protect us would put her directly in the line of fire with consequences neither of us could have predicted.

By Sunday afternoon, Lily was released from the hospital with a new inhaler and strict instructions for care. Emma insisted we stay at her penthouse where her security team could keep an eye on us. Wow, your house is bigger than my whole school. Lily exclaimed as she explored the spacious living room, her energy fully restored. Emma laughed. It’s too big.

Honestly, I rattle around in here like a pee in a drum. Then why don’t you get a smaller house? Lily asked with a child’s straightforward logic. You know, I’ve never thought about it that way. Emma smiled at me over Lily’s head. Sometimes it takes a fresh perspective to see what’s right in front of you.

While Lily settled in with a movie, Emma and I stepped onto the balcony to talk privately. My security team traced the text. She said it came from someone inside Westridge Corp., my main competitor. They’re desperate to stop the Nakamura deal. So, what’s your plan? I’ve arranged a meeting with their CEO tonight. Off the record, just the two of us. Alarm bells rang in my head. That sounds dangerous.

It’s at a public restaurant. I’ll be fine. She touched my cheek. Jake, I need to end this before anyone else gets hurt. This is my world. Corporate sharks and dirty tactics. I know how to handle it. At least let me come with you. No, I need you here with Lily. Her expression softened.

Besides, after this is over, we need to talk about us. About what happens after this weekend? My heart skipped. I thought this was just for the weekend. Is that what you want? She asked, vulnerability clear in her eyes. Before I could answer, her phone rang. She checked it inside. I have to take this. It’s about tonight’s meeting.

As she stepped away to take the call, I watched her trying to reconcile the powerful CEO with the woman who had sat beside me all night in a hospital room who had made my daughter laugh, who had kissed me like I was the air she needed to breathe. I was falling for Emma Sinclair hard and fast and against all logic.

And judging by the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t watching, she was falling too. What I didn’t know was that in just a few hours that fall would become literal and potentially fatal. I knew something was wrong when Emma didn’t answer my calls. She’d left for her meeting 3 hours ago, promising to be back by 9:00. It was now past midnight.

I just decided to call her security team when my phone rang with an unknown number. Jake Carter, a formal voice asked. Yes, this is Mercy Hospital. We have an Emma Sinclair here. You’re listed as her emergency contact. My heart stopped. What happened? Is she okay? She’s in surgery. There was an incident. A fall from a restaurant balcony. The police are investigating. You should come right away.

The next hour was a blur of arranging for a neighbor to watch Lily and racing to the hospital. When I arrived, the waiting room was already filled with Emma’s employees and her parents who had rushed over from their hotel. What happened? I asked Robert, who looked 10 years older than he had at dinner the night before.

They’re saying she fell, he said, his voice hollow. But Emma isn’t clumsy. She never has been. She was meeting with Victor Westridge, I said. From Westridge Corporation. They threatened Lily to get to Emma. Robert’s head snapped up. What? Why didn’t she tell us? She wanted to handle it herself. Protect everyone else.

Margaret took my hand. That sounds like our Emma. Always carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Hours passed in tense silence. Finally, a surgeon appeared, still in scrubs. Miss Sinclair made it through surgery, he announced. She had internal bleeding and a collapsed lung, but we’ve stabilized her.

The next 24 hours will be critical, but she’s fighting hard. Relief washed over me so intensely, my knees nearly buckled. She was alive. Injured, but alive. Can we see her? Margaret asked. Family only and just for a few minutes. She’s still unconscious. Robert put his arm around my shoulders. This is Jake, Emma’s partner. He’s family.

The surgeon nodded and led us to the ICU. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Emma’s strong, vibrant Emma lying pale and still connected to machines that beeped and hissed. A large bruise darkened one side of her face, and her arm was in a cast. “Oh, Emma,” Margaret whispered, touching her daughter’s hand gently. I moved to the other side of the bed and carefully took Emma’s uninjured hand in mine. “Hey,” I said softly.

“You scared us. But you’re going to be okay. You have to be. As if she heard me, her fingers twitched slightly in mine. Did you see that? I looked up excitedly. She moved. The nurse checked the monitors. Her vitals are improving. That’s a good sign. Talk to her. She might be able to hear you. I leaned closer. Emma, it’s Jake. I’m here.

Your parents are here. We’re all waiting for you to wake up and boss us around again. A faint smile seemed to touch her lips, though her eyes remained closed. When we were asked to leave so the medical team could work, I found two police detectives waiting to speak with me. Mr. Carter, we understand you were aware of threats made against Miss Sinclair. I told them everything.

The text message, the Nakamura deal, Westridge corpse desperation. We found Miss Sinclair’s phone at the scene. One detective said there was a recording app running. She captured the entire conversation with Westridge, including his admission to threatening your daughter and his attempt to push her from the balcony when she refused to back down.

So, you have him? I asked, hope rising. We’re bringing him in now. Miss Sinclair managed to grab the railing as she fell, which slowed her descent. That quick thinking probably saved her life. That was Emma fighting to the end, never giving up. As dawn broke over the city, I sat in the hospital cafeteria with Robert and Margaret. All of us exhausted but unwilling to leave.

You know, Robert said, stirring his untouched coffee. When Emma first told us she was bringing someone home to meet us, we thought it was just another distraction. She’s introduced us to men before, polished, successful types who never seem to touch her heart. But you’re different, Margaret continued. The way she looks at you.

I haven’t seen that light in her eyes since before we lost Michael. I care about her. I admitted more than I should after just 3 days. Time doesn’t always matter with these things, Robert said. Sometimes you just know. A doctor approached our table. Miss Sinclair is awake and asking for Jake. I found Emma propped up slightly in bed, her eyes tired but alert.

When she saw me, her face lit up with a smile that made my heart race. “You stayed,” she said, her voice raspy. “Of course I stayed.” I sat carefully on the edge of her bed. “The police have Westridge. Your recording got him.” “Good,” she winced as she tried to shift position. “Jake, about our arrangement. Forget the arrangement, I said firmly. That ended the moment you kissed me outside the restaurant.

So what happens now? She asked, vulnerability clear in her eyes. Now we do this for real. No pretending, no deals, just us seeing where this goes. I’m a workaholic CEO with trust issues and survivors guilt, she warned. And I’m a single dad with a mountain of debt and a heart I thought was permanently broken. I smiled. Sounds like a perfect match to me. She laughed, then winced at the pain it caused. Lily, is she okay? She’s fine.

More worried about you than anything. She made you a get well card with about a pound of glitter on it. Emma’s eyes filled with tears. I never thought I’d have this again. A chance at family. I leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. Well, get used to it because Lily and I aren’t going anywhere.

6 months later, Emma moved out of her two big penthouse into a home with a yard where Lily could play. A year after that, I proposed on the balcony of the restaurant where we had our first real kiss. And when Emma walked down the aisle toward me with Lily as our flower girl, I knew that sometimes the most unexpected arrangements turn into exactly what we need. Life isn’t perfect. Emma still works too hard sometimes.

And I still have moments of grief for Sarah. But we understand each other’s scars in a way no one else could. And every night when I fall asleep with Emma in my arms, I’m grateful for that Craigslist ad that changed everything. Because sometimes the most beautiful love stories begin with, I need a boyfriend to meet my parents this weekend and not sleeping on the sofa, right? If you enjoyed this story, please hit the like button and subscribe to the channel for more heartwarming content that will make you believe in second chances and unexpected love. Let me know

in the comments which country you’re watching from. I’d love to hear how far this story has traveled. Remember, sometimes the most unexpected arrangements can lead to the greatest love stories of all.