I Married a Waitress in Spite of My Demanding Parents

I told her everything. The deadline. The inheritance. The pressure.

And then I offered her a deal.

A one-year marriage. Simple. Legal. Mostly for appearances. I’d make sure she was secure, and after a year, we’d part ways without damage.

It sounded hollow the moment I said it.

Claire didn’t laugh. But she didn’t accept it blindly either.

She asked questions. Thought through it. Weighed it carefully.

Then she looked at me—not at my situation, not at the offer—at me.

“Okay,” she said.