Then, on my thirtieth birthday, my father set the final rule.
“If you’re not married by thirty-one,” he said calmly over dinner, “you’re out of the will.”
There was no argument, no anger—just the same cold certainty he used in business.
Suddenly, my life had a deadline.
After weeks of uncomfortable dates with women who seemed more interested in my last name than me, I wandered into a small café downtown one evening. That’s where I met Claire.
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