“Will you marry me?” the janitor asked the woman he met a few weeks ago. When the woman said yes, she had no idea she was signing up for a surprise that would almost make her faint on her wedding day.
As soon as Sylvia reached the altar and looked at Rob, she felt her head spin.
“This can’t be true,” Sylvia thought to herself. At the altar waiting for her was not a poor janitor, but a millionaire.
…The man standing there looked exactly like Rob — same smile, same eyes — but his tailored suit screamed old money, and behind him stood a row of impeccably dressed groomsmen.
Sylvia’s hands shook as the officiant began speaking.
Rob leaned in and whispered, “I didn’t lie about who I am. I lied about what I am. I wanted someone to love me for me, not my bank account.”
It all made sense now — the “janitor” job, the modest apartment, the second-hand car. He had been testing her sincerity.
When they said their vows, Sylvia could barely focus — not from the wealth, but from the shock of realizing she had fallen for the man before knowing any of this.
Later, at the reception in his sprawling estate, she laughed and said, “You almost gave me a heart attack at the altar.”
Rob grinned. “Good. Now you know you’re marrying me, not the money.”
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