I never saw love as destiny until Kathy crashed into my life. Three months ago, she stole my heart, and a month later, I proposed. Everyone thought I was nuts, but we were perfect together—ski trips, sci-fi marathons, shared dreams. Now I was on a plane to meet her parents, sweating bullets. Kathy said her dad, David, was tough but adored her, and I had one shot to impress him. I got to the airport too early, so I slipped into a coffee shop nearby to settle my nerves. The cozy buzz was a relief until a guy in ragged clothes walked in, asking folks for change. He got shrugs and sorrys until he reached me. “Can you help me get a coffee?” he asked, soft-spoken. I hesitated—strangers can be a gamble—but his tired eyes felt honest.
“What kind?” I asked. “Jamaican Blue Mountain,” he said, chuckling. It was the most expensive one, and I smirked. “Why that?” “It’s my birthday,” he replied. “Wanted something special.” I decided to trust him. I bought the coffee and a slice of cake—birthdays deserve a treat—and asked him to sit. His name was David, and he told me how life had crushed him—lost everything to bad breaks. His story wasn’t a sob fest, just real, and it stuck with me. I handed him $100 as I left, waving off his no. “Enjoy your day,” I said, figuring I’d never see him again. Later, in first class—Kathy’s sweet surprise—I was sipping coffee, fretting about her dad, when he sat next to me. Same guy, but now in a crisp suit. “You?” I gasped. “I’m David,” he said. “Kathy’s dad. This was a test.”
He’d played homeless to see how I’d act with nothing to gain. I’d passed, he said, but he wasn’t done—he handed me a notebook. “Write Kathy why you love her, why you’ll marry her, how you’ll keep her safe.” I scribbled my heart out—her joy, our future, my vows. He read it, smiled, and said, “Welcome aboard.” At their house, dinner was awkward—her mom was kind, but David’s silent nods had me second-guessing. Then he spoke: “You’re the real deal, Jimmy. You’ve got my blessing.” Kathy held my hand tight. Later, I found a receipt—my $100 was a café donation, not his. Kathy grinned. “I planned it with Dad,” she said. “We tested your soul.” I realized I wasn’t just joining them—I was learning love’s deeper meaning from a family that lives it.
