Grandmother Sets Marriage Deadline for Granddaughter by Her 70th Birthday or She’s Excluded from Will — Story of the Day

Sophie was enjoying a delightful evening with family when her grandmother, Evelyn, decided to drop a bombshell. Evelyn’s announcement went beyond the ordinary. To get her inheritance, Sophie needed to get married within a month—in time for Evelyn’s upcoming birthday!

The living room was noisy as the whole family gathered at Evelyn’s large, old-fashioned house. With her pink clothes, she was always a vibrant character. For years, her energy was unmatched.

“Everyone, I need your attention!” Evelyn’s voice rang out, commanding silence. Her eyes sparkled as she surveyed her gathered relatives. The chatter ceased, and all eyes turned to her.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Sophie,” Evelyn began, her gaze fixed on her granddaughter, who sat uncomfortably under her family’s eyes.

“You have dedicated your life to your career, which is commendable. But you’ve paid a price by neglecting our cherished family values.”

Sophie shifted in her seat, her expression one of slight annoyance. She knew this conversation was coming. Her grandmother’s values were from a different time, after all.

Evelyn continued, “I stand before you as the last guardian of our family’s traditions, and it pains me to see them so easily cast aside.” Her words hung heavily in the air: “That is why I have decided, unless Sophie can find a husband by the time I turn 70 next month, she will not be included in my will.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Sophie’s face turned pale, eyes wide in shock as the room fell eerily silent.

“Grandma, you can’t be serious,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but Evelyn’s face remained resolute.

“I am utterly serious, Sophie,” Evelyn responded sternly. “I cannot pass on my legacy to someone who shows no interest in continuing our family line.”

Her voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Sophie’s frustration boiled over as she stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“I’ve spent years building my career, investing time and energy to become who I am today,” she protested, her voice rising with each word. “And now, just because I haven’t married, you want to cut me off from the inheritance? That’s not fair!”

Evelyn looked up at her granddaughter, her expression unyielding.

“Life is about choices, Sophie. You chose your path, and now I am choosing mine.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Stung by the harsh reality of her grandmother’s words, Sophie felt a surge of emotion. She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a loud bang that echoed through the quiet house. She sat in her car, crying out in the night silence.

***

Sophie approached her grandmother’s challenge like another task at work, thus tackling it with due diligence.

She threw herself into the dating world, setting up profiles on several online dating sites, attending speed dating events, and even letting her friends set her up on blind dates. However, her experiences ranged from bizarre to downright disastrous.

One evening, she met Jason, who seemed charming at first. As they sat in a cozy restaurant, Jason leaned in.

“Do you know that the moon landing was staged?” he whispered conspiratorially. Sophie choked on her drink, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. The date went downhill as Jason delved deeper into his conspiracy theories.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Then she met Peter, who talked at length about his collection of exotic reptiles.

“And here’s a photo of my pets, Monty and Tweedy!” he exclaimed, showing Sophie pictures of his cat and dog on his shelf. Sophie smiled politely, her interest waning by the second.

Each date left Sophie more disillusioned. During a date at a quaint coffee shop, she slipped into managerial mode, discussing revenue streams and market dynamics, completely missing her date’s glazed-over expression.

These failed attempts and each awkward goodbye underscored her growing despair. She was utterly unprepared for this unpredictable world of dating.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

Back at the office, Sophie was scrolling through her phone, her latest date yet another letdown. She sighed and turned to Steven, her reliable assistant, who was busy organizing files.

“Steven, can we talk?” Sophie’s tone was serious.

“Sure, what’s up?” Steven asked, attentive.

Sophie hesitated, then blurted out, “I need a huge favor. I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a week.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

She rushed on, “I’ll pay you, of course.”

Steven blinked, taken aback. “Pretend to be your boyfriend? Sophie, are you sure about this?”

“It’s just a week to get my grandmother off my back,” Sophie explained hastily. “We can call it off right after her birthday party.”

Seeing her distress, Steven agreed, albeit reluctantly. “Okay, I’ll do it. But let’s make it believable, at least.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

They started spending more time together, exchanging basic information like favorite foods and hobbies.

Sophie, ever the perfectionist, turned their casual chats into intense interrogations about Steven’s background, his views on marriage, and even his credit score.

Realizing they needed a different approach, Steven suggested, “How about we spend this weekend at my cousin’s lake house? Just relax, be ourselves. It might help us be more convincing.”

Sophie agreed to Steven’s suggestion.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

“Okay, Steven, how hard can this be?” Sophie asked with a laugh, tying an apron around her waist as they stood in the small, rustic kitchen of the lake house. They were both attempting to cook dinner, an activity neither was exceptionally skilled at.

“According to my cousin, just throw everything in the pot and hope for the best,” Steven replied, chopping vegetables.

For illustration purposes only | Source: pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: pixabay

The pot simmered on the stove while they tried their luck fishing by the lake. Standing side by side with fishing rods, they quickly realized they needed more talent for it. After several failed attempts, Sophie burst out laughing. “Why are we so bad at this?”

“It’s about spending time together, isn’t it?” Steven smiled in answer.

As night fell, they sat by a small fire pit, wrapped in warm blankets and sharing stories of their childhoods.

“You know, I used to think being strong meant doing everything alone,” Sophie confessed, her voice soft against the crackling of the fire. “But this… this is nice. Sharing moments, I mean.”

Steven nodded, passing her a marshmallow to roast.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Yeah, life’s better with good company. Even if it’s just roasting marshmallows and failing at fishing.”

By the end of the weekend, as they packed up to leave, Sophie realized she enjoyed Steven’s company far beyond the confines of their initial agreement.

“It’s strange,” Sophie mused as they drove back, “how a weekend can change so much.”

The atmosphere on their way home was warm and relaxed. Steven finally felt comfortable in the friendly setting and opened up about his dreams.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he started, navigating the winding road. “This weekend helped me realize how much I want to pursue my dreams. I’ve always wanted to start my own business. Maybe a bakery or a café.”

Despite the warmth of their shared weekend, her initial self-interest shadowed her reaction. She remained silent, keeping her concerns to herself, not wanting to discourage him, and dreading the potential disruption to her plans.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

Sophie and Steven arrived at Evelyn’s elegant home, where Evelyn had organized a formal dinner to meet Steven, whom she had heard much about. The house was aglow with soft lights, and a gentle aroma of roasted meats and seasoned vegetables filled the air.

As they walked in, Evelyn greeted them with a beaming smile.

“Steven, I’m so pleased to meet you at last,” she exclaimed, offering a hand that Steven shook warmly.

“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. It’s an honor to be here,” Steven responded, his voice carrying genuine respect.

Steven was the epitome of charm and grace during the dinner, effortlessly engaging with other guests and sharing amusing anecdotes that brought smiles.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Sophie, however, seemed distant. Despite the cozy atmosphere, her interactions with Steven were cold and formal, contrasting with the warmth they had shared over their weekend getaway.

After dinner, Evelyn noticed their tension as they retreated to the living room for dessert. She decided to find out what was going on.

“Sophie tells me you two had a wonderful weekend at the lake house, Steven. It must have been quite the getaway.” Her eyes twinkled with curiosity.

Steven glanced at Sophie, a hint of warmth in his expression.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Yes, it was amazing. We got to know each other beyond work.”

Sophie’s response was curt, almost dismissive. “It was a nice break,” she said, avoiding Steven’s eyes.

Sophie’s behavior puzzled Evelyn when Steven’s earnestness spoke volumes. As he excused himself to fetch some appetizers, Evelyn paused to talk privately with Sophie.

“Sophie, dear, what’s going on? I can see Steven cares deeply. Don’t play with his feelings,” Evelyn whispered, her voice stern yet concerned.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Sophie masked her surprise with a feigned smile.

“Grandma, everything is fine. Steven and I are pleased. He’s even thinking about proposing soon,” she lied, hoping to appease her grandmother.

Evelyn, however, was only partially convinced. She nodded slowly, her doubts quietly mounting.

At that very moment, Steven reappeared, holding a plate of snacks. His timing was such that he likely overheard the conversation. His demeanor changed for the rest of the evening; he became quieter and more reserved.

When it was time to say goodbye, he nodded to Sophie and left without a word, his silence heavy with unspoken thoughts.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

The following day, the office felt colder and emptier. Sophie soon discovered why: Steven had resigned. He came to collect his belongings.

“I thought we were getting closer, Steven. What happened?” Sophie asked in confusion.

Steven sighed, his frustration evident.

“After the weekend, I thought we had something real. But you shut down and returned to treating me just as an assistant.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Sophie looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Steven. I just… I got scared.”

Steven shook his head, his decision firm.

“I need more than this, Sophie. And I can’t accept your money for the charade.”

He picked up his box, his shoulders set as he walked away, leaving Sophie alone with her regrets.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

Sophie spent the morning before Evelyn’s birthday party lost in thought, meticulously choosing her outfit, each piece selected to reflect a blend of respect and celebration.

As she dressed, her mind was awash with memories of Steven—their weekend at the lake, the arguments, the confessions, and finally, his resignation. The intensity of her feelings surprised her; she hadn’t realized just how deeply she had fallen for him until he was gone.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

When Sophie arrived at the party, her heart skipped a beat when she spotted Steven mingling among the guests. Ever the astute matriarch, Evelyn, had extended the invitation to Steven, a gesture that spoke volumes of her fondness for him.

Sophie’s nervousness was palpable as she approached him, her palms sweaty, her heart pounding.

“Steven,” she began, shaky but sincere, “I owe you a huge apology.” She took a deep breath, gathering her courage.

“The truth is, I missed you terribly. But it’s more than that. Our pretending… it turned into something real for me. I feel for you, genuinely and deeply. I’m so sorry for all the deception—it started about my grandmother’s will, but it became about so much more.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Steven’s expression, initially guarded, softened as he listened to her words.

“Sophie,” he replied gently, “I forgive you. I was part of the charade, too, remember? I agreed because… well because I’ve had feelings for you for quite a while. I thought this might allow us to explore if something could be real between us.”

Evelyn had been quietly observing their moment of reconciliation until she chose to join them, her approach soft yet deliberate. She took a seat opposite Sophie, her eyes glinting with wisdom and a bit of mischief.

“Sophie, you’ve finally not disappointed me,” Evelyn said, a warm smile spreading across her face. “You’ve come to realize what truly matters. That’s why I’ll leave the inheritance to you and whatever family you build.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Her voice grew tender, “I never intended to follow through if you married just to meet the will’s conditions. I know you well enough, my dear. It wouldn’t have been right. All this was a test, a push to get you to look beyond your career achievements.”

Before the conversation could dip into awkward silence, Steven, ever the peacemaker, made a light-hearted announcement.

“And speaking of new beginnings, I’ve opened my own bakery.” His face lit up with pride.

“I’ve also baked a special birthday cake for tonight. It would mean a lot to me if everyone could come by the bakery sometime to enjoy some coffee and cake.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The evening unfolded with a celebratory air, the earlier tensions dissolving into laughter and shared stories. Friends and family gathered around, their conversations filled with admiration for Steven’s culinary skills and warm wishes for Evelyn’s continued health and happiness.

Evelyn watched the young couple, her heart full, knowing her unconventional method had ultimately led her granddaughter to reassess her priorities and embrace a future where personal connections held more weight than professional achievements.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Corinne was at a speed dating event. Frustrated by her failed relationships, she watched how men boasted about their material worlds one by one. But the next candidate caught her attention. He was interested in Corinne’s world. The intrigue grew when the stranger offered her to travel together. 

I Was About to Propose to My Girlfriend on Valentine’s Day When I Accidentally Discovered Her Shocking Secret in Her Google History

For seven years, Jill and I built a life filled with love, trust, and plans for the future. But just days before I proposed, a single glance at her Google search history revealed a secret so shocking it changed everything I thought I knew about the woman I was ready to marry.

Jill and I have been together for seven years. Seven good years. She’s my best friend, my partner, my everything.

A happy couple with their dog | Source: Pexels

A happy couple with their dog | Source: Pexels

She’s the kind of person who lights up a room without trying. She has this easy laugh, the kind that makes people feel at home. She remembers the little things like how I take my coffee, my favorite songs, the way I get grumpy when I’m hungry.

I love her for all of it. We fit perfectly.

A couple having fun in the snow | Source: Pexels

A couple having fun in the snow | Source: Pexels

We love the same music. We travel together, never getting tired of each other’s company. My family loves her like their own, and her family has always welcomed me in. I’ve never doubted her. Not once. That’s why I was going to propose.

I had everything planned. Valentine’s Day. A quiet cabin getaway. Just the two of us. A warm fire, a bottle of wine, and the perfect moment.

A couple at home | Source: Pexels

A couple at home | Source: Pexels

The ring? A simple solitaire, classic and elegant, just like Jill.

I’d pictured it a hundred times. I’d get down on one knee, say something heartfelt, and she’d smile—maybe cry a little—before saying yes. At least, that’s how I thought it would go.

Then, suddenly, things started to change.

A concerned thoughtful man | Source: Freepik

A concerned thoughtful man | Source: Freepik

At first, I told myself I was imagining it. Jill was still there, still saying “I love you,” still kissing me goodbye in the mornings. But something was… different.

The warmth in her voice? It wasn’t the same. The way she looked at me? It felt distant, like she was somewhere else. Little things started adding up.

A couple growing cold | Source: Pexels

A couple growing cold | Source: Pexels

She’d come home and go straight to the bedroom without our usual chat about the day. Her texts got shorter. When I tried to cuddle with her at night, she’d shift away, just slightly, but enough for me to notice.

One night, I found her sitting on the couch, staring at her phone. She didn’t even look up when I walked in.

A woman on her couch looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman on her couch looking at her phone | Source: Pexels

“What’re you looking at?” I asked, sitting next to her.

She jumped, locking the screen. “Nothing.”

I frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just tired.”

That was her answer for everything.

A tired woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels

A tired woman covering her mouth | Source: Pexels

A week later, I tried again. We were in bed, lights off, just the hum of the night around us.

“Jill,” I whispered.

“Hmm?”

I hesitated. “Are we okay?”

She turned her head toward me. Even in the dark, I could feel the weight of her stare. “What do you mean?”

A sleepless man in his bed | Source: Midjourney

A sleepless man in his bed | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been… different.” I sighed. “Distant. You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

She was quiet for too long. Then, finally, she reached for my hand.

“I love you,” she said softly.

But it felt… empty.

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

Days passed, and the feeling didn’t go away. She got irritated easily. When I asked if she wanted to grab dinner, she said she wasn’t hungry. When I made a joke, she barely reacted.

One night, she came home late. She looked exhausted.

“Tough day?” I asked.

She rubbed her face. “Yeah.”

A tired woman rubbing her face | Source: Pexels

A tired woman rubbing her face | Source: Pexels

I waited for her to say more. She didn’t. Something was wrong, and I was going to find out what.

That night, I wasn’t looking for anything. I was just on my laptop, checking something quickly before heading to bed. Jill had used it earlier, but that wasn’t unusual.

I clicked on my browser history out of habit. That’s when I saw the questions, search after search.

A man working on his laptop | Source: Pexels

A man working on his laptop | Source: Pexels

“How to tell someone I have a child who I hid for years?”

“How to say it without losing them?”

My stomach twisted. I read the words over and over, my mind struggling to catch up.

A child? A lie? I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

Jill didn’t have a child. We’d been together for seven years. She would have told me. Right? My pulse pounded in my ears.

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

I scrolled further. There were more searches. Some were variations of the same question. Some were even worse.

“Will he hate me if he finds out?”

“Can a relationship survive a huge lie?”

My hands started shaking. I sat back in my chair, trying to breathe. My chest felt tight, like the air had been sucked from the room.

A shocked man looking at his laptop | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man looking at his laptop | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to believe it was a mistake. Maybe she was looking this up for a friend. Maybe it wasn’t what it seemed. But deep down, I knew it was real, and it was about me.

I should’ve waited. I should’ve taken time to think, to process. But I couldn’t. I needed answers. Now.

A serious man looking at his laptop | Source: Midjourney

A serious man looking at his laptop | Source: Midjourney

Jill was in the bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through her phone. The glow from the screen reflected in her eyes, making her look almost peaceful. She didn’t notice me at first.

When she finally looked up, she gave me a soft smile. Forced.

“You okay?” she asked.

I didn’t answer. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like my ribs would crack.

A smiling woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Jill frowned and set her phone aside. “Babe?”

I sat down on the edge of the bed, my hands clenched into fists. My stomach was in knots, my mind racing. I had thought about waiting—about giving myself time to process before confronting her—but I couldn’t. Not with something like this.

I took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. My throat still felt tight, like I was being strangled from the inside.

A couple having a serious talk in their bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A couple having a serious talk in their bedroom | Source: Midjourney

“I saw your search history.”

Jill’s face went pale. She didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

I swallowed hard. “Tell me the truth.” My voice was quieter than I expected. “What child? What lie?”

Her lips parted like she wanted to speak, but no words came out. I waited.

A shocked scared woman | Source: Pexels

A shocked scared woman | Source: Pexels

The tension in the room grew heavier with every second that passed. Then, suddenly, Jill dropped her head into her hands. Her shoulders started shaking.

A choked sob escaped her.

“Jill,” I whispered. “Please.”

She wiped at her face, her breathing ragged. When she finally looked at me, her eyes were red and glassy.

A black and white photo of a crying woman | Source: Pexels

A black and white photo of a crying woman | Source: Pexels

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” she whispered. “But I was scared.”

My whole body felt stiff, like I was frozen in place. “Tell me now.”

Jill squeezed her hands together, her fingers trembling. Her chest rose and fell unevenly. She wasn’t just upset—she was terrified.

She took a deep, shaky breath and let the words fall from her lips.

“I have a child.” The world seemed to stop.

A man talking to his sad wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his sad wife | Source: Midjourney

I stared at her, my brain refusing to process what I had just heard. “You… what?”

Her voice was barely audible. “I had her when I was fourteen.”

I couldn’t speak. Jill sniffled, rubbing her hands over her face. “My parents… they raised her as their own.” Her breath hitched. “They told everyone she was their daughter. Even she doesn’t know the truth.”

A man looking at his wife in disbelief | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his wife in disbelief | Source: Midjourney

The room tilted. I felt like I was sinking into the mattress, unable to move, unable to think.

I forced my mouth to work. “So… your little sister…”

Jill nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “She’s not my sister,” she said. “She’s my daughter.”

The air left my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Everything I knew—everything I believed about Jill, about our life together—shifted beneath me.

A shocked man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

Jill’s sister. The girl I had spent holidays with. The one I had joked around with. The one I had watched grow up over the years.

She wasn’t her sister. She was her child.

I felt dizzy. My hands were clammy, my chest tight.

“You’ve lied to me…” My voice cracked. “For seven years?”

A crying woman looking to her side | Source: Pexels

A crying woman looking to her side | Source: Pexels

Jill let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” She sniffled. “At first, I thought it didn’t matter. We were young. It wasn’t something I wanted to bring up. But then… time passed. And the longer I waited, the harder it got.”

I clenched my jaw. “You should have told me.”

A serious man in his bedroom | Source: Freepik

A serious man in his bedroom | Source: Freepik

“I know.” She looked down at her lap, ashamed. “I thought… maybe I’d never have to.”

I let out a hollow laugh. It wasn’t funny, but I didn’t know what else to do. “And what? Just keep pretending she’s your sister forever?”

She wiped at her face, her hands shaking. “I don’t know. I was scared.”

A crying woman in a hoodie | Source: Pexels

A crying woman in a hoodie | Source: Pexels

I ran a hand through my hair, my mind spinning. “Did your parents force you to lie?” My voice was rough, uneven.

Jill exhaled shakily. “Not force. But they made it clear it was the best thing for everyone. They thought it would ruin my life if people knew the truth. So they… took over. And I let them.”

I stared at her, my emotions warring inside me.

Judgemental parents in their living room | Source: Midjourney

Judgemental parents in their living room | Source: Midjourney

“I wanted to tell you,” she whispered. “So many times. But every time I tried, I just—” She shook her head. “I was terrified you’d leave.”

I let out a slow breath. “You should have trusted me.”

Tears streamed down her face. “I know.”

I wanted to be angry, but mostly, I just felt… lost.

A shocked puzzled man | Source: Freepik

A shocked puzzled man | Source: Freepik

Jill sniffled. “Please. Say something.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say.”

She reached for my hand, gripping it tightly. “I love you. That hasn’t changed.”

I looked at Jill—broken, vulnerable, terrified. But she was still my Jill. The woman I loved. The woman I still wanted forever with.

A couple hugging on a couch | Source: Pexels

A couple hugging on a couch | Source: Pexels

So I reached into my pocket, pulled out the ring, and whispered, “Marry me.”

Through her tears, she gasped. “Yes!”

Wedding rings on a table | Source: Pexels

Wedding rings on a table | Source: Pexels

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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