I spent 14 years saving up to buy my dream house. It was a tough road. There were nights I went to bed with an empty stomach because every single penny mattered. So the day I finally got the keys to my very own home? It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. But when I opened the front door to celebrate with my girlfriend… I just stood there, frozen.
My name is Kevin, I’m 32, and until just two months ago, the biggest thing I owned was a beat-up Honda Civic. But that all changed when I finally reached the dream I’d been chasing since I was 18 and flat broke—I bought a house.
Getting here wasn’t easy. After graduation, my adoptive parents made it clear I was on my own. That meant college was filled with ramen noodles, 20-hour shifts at a gas station, and nights spent falling asleep over textbooks that cost more than what I spent on food for the month.
“You’re crazy if you think you’ll ever afford a house,” my old roommate once laughed. He watched me send another $50 to savings while skipping a night out. “Live a little, man!”
But I couldn’t “live a little.” I had a fire inside me to own something that was truly mine.
That fire kept me going until four years ago, when I got a job at a big tech company. Finally—a steady paycheck. And then, three months ago, someone even better came into my life: Betty.
We met at a coffee shop in downtown Oakville. She was arguing with the barista.
“Can you make it less caffeinated but more energizing?” she asked.
I burst out laughing.
“Are you seriously laughing at my drink order?” she asked, hands on her hips.
“I’m laughing because I’ve never heard someone ask for a paradox in a cup,” I joked.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “I guess you think you’re clever.”
“Clever enough to buy you a regular coffee and see if that works better.”
That was it. From that moment on, we clicked.
Three months later, I was crazy about her. Betty made my world brighter. She sang off-key while cooking dinner in my tiny apartment and danced like nobody was watching. She made me believe I deserved good things.
Then came April 13th. That morning, I officially became the owner of a $1 million house—three bedrooms, a wide front porch, a garden, and a big backyard. It was mine.
I called Betty the second I walked out of the lawyer’s office.
“I got it! The house is officially mine!”
“Oh my God, Kevin! I’m so proud of you!” she shouted. “We have to celebrate!”
“Come over after work. I’ll grab cake and flowers.”
I was so excited I could barely focus all day. I kept sketching ideas for the furniture, imagining lazy Sunday mornings in the kitchen.
On the way home, I stopped at Rosewood Bakery and bought a chocolate cake with “Congratulations” written in blue frosting. Then I grabbed a simple spring bouquet from the grocery store. My hands were shaking as I unlocked the door to 428 Everwood Lane.
But the second I stepped inside… I stopped cold.
Betty was sitting on the couch. But she wasn’t alone. Her suitcases were lined up against the wall. A man in a dark suit with a briefcase sat next to her. Behind the couch stood Betty’s mom, Eugene, and her sister, Lara—like they were waiting for a funeral to start.
The cake nearly slipped from my hands.
“What’s going on here?” I asked.
Betty stood, holding some papers. Her smile looked fake. “Surprise, honey! I wanted to help you with something important.”
“Help me with what?”
Eugene stepped forward, voice sharp. “Kevin, if you truly love our Betty, you’ll want her to feel secure in this relationship.”
Then the man in the suit cleared his throat. “I’m Mr. Adams, their family lawyer. These are deed transfer documents. Just some paperwork to add Betty’s name to the house.”
I felt like the floor had vanished beneath me.
“Add her name?” I asked.
“It’s just a formality!” Betty said quickly. “We’re building a life together. Shouldn’t we both be on the deed?”
Lara crossed her arms. “Unless you don’t trust her. Is that it? After three months, you still don’t trust the woman you say you love?”
“Three months?” I echoed, stunned.
Eugene chuckled. “Exactly! That’s more than enough time to know if you’re serious. So what’s it gonna be?”
Everything I’d worked for… 14 years of sacrifices… and now I was being pushed to hand part of it away.
“Betty, we never even talked about this,” I said softly.
“We’re talking about it now. Do you love me, Kevin?”
The room went silent. The lawyer tapped his pen. They were all staring at me, waiting.
“Of course I love you, but—”
“No buts!” Lara snapped. “You either do or you don’t.”
“If you did, this wouldn’t even be a question,” Eugene added.
Betty’s eyes filled with tears. “I thought you were different, Kevin…”
My heart hurt. I looked at her, and all I could think was how much I loved her. I wanted to prove it.
“Give me the papers,” I said.
I set the cake and flowers on the table, took the pen, and with a shaking hand… I started to sign.
But the second my pen touched the paper—the room exploded with laughter.
Betty doubled over, howling. “Oh my God, his face!” Lara shouted, clutching her stomach.
Even the lawyer was laughing. Eugene was wiping tears from her eyes.
Then people started pouring out of the kitchen—eight strangers, phones out, filming everything like it was a TV show.
“We got it all!” one shouted. “That was perfect!”
I blinked, still holding the pen. “What… what’s going on?”
Betty ran up and hugged me, still laughing. “It’s a prank! A surprise party prank! Those papers aren’t real.”
I looked down. She was right. The pages were nonsense. Just placeholder Latin text. I’d almost signed garbage.
“A prank?” I repeated, confused.
“We wanted to see what you’d do if I dropped a huge bomb like that,” she said, still grinning. “And you were ready to do it! You were really going to add me!”
Everyone cheered. “Surprise!”
The laughter, the champagne, the clapping… but all I felt was empty. My throat was dry. My chest tight.
“You should’ve seen your face,” Eugene said, still chuckling. “We almost felt bad. Almost.”
“Come on, lighten up,” Lara added. “It was just a joke. And now you know—you really love her!”
I forced a smile. “Yeah… hilarious.”
But inside, I was crushed. All those years… and this was the joke?
The party went on for hours. They ate my cake. Drank champagne in my house. Took photos in front of the deed prank setup.
“He was gonna sign it after just three months!” Betty laughed, squeezing my hand. “Isn’t he the sweetest?”
A month later, we were walking along Sunset Beach, watching the waves roll in.
“I still can’t believe you stayed with me after that prank,” Betty said, squeezing my hand. “You’re amazing.”
“I love you,” I said.
And I meant it. Maybe I was a fool. But I did love her.
I stopped walking. The sunset made her hair glow gold. My fingers brushed the velvet box in my pocket.
“Betty,” I said, dropping to one knee.
Her hands flew to her mouth. “Kevin… are you serious?”
“Will you marry me?” I asked, opening the ring box.
She stared, then laughed through her tears. “This better not be a joke!”
“It’s not. I’m serious. I want forever with you.”
“Even after that awful prank?”
“Even then.”
She knelt beside me. “Yes! Yes, of course, yes!”
I slipped the ring on her finger, and she threw her arms around me. We laughed and cried as the sun dipped into the sea.
That prank taught me something big: real love doesn’t need tests or games. It’s about choosing each other—even when it’s complicated.
We’re getting married next spring in our backyard at 428 Everwood Lane.
The house? Still just under my name.
Some jokes are only funny once. And some dreams… you protect with everything you have.