Page 110 of Two to Tango

We were looking for something quieter, something more intimate. As he guides me down the cobblestone streets of the more historical parts of Buenos Aires, we hold hands, and I walk at his side happily, reminding myself that this is indeed my life.

After we went to San Diego and placed second—the most thrilling surprise—we spent a couple more days there, riding that high. We visited touristy attractions, and reveled in delicious food and the glorious sun.

Once we got back home, I got to work applying for new jobs—something that I thought would be both terrifying and daunting, but soon after found a great match at a boutique firm. I even got to bring Larissa with me, making for an almost seamless move. I learned what work-life balance really looked like, and I spent it in an office that appreciated me.

After San Diego, Logan decided to work as a choreographer with a local dance program. He couldn't give up dancing entirely, just step back from it a little. Crawl up from the depths of it where he had become too entwined. And we still dance socially at milongas, basking in the warmth of the community there. That I could never give up. I love it too much, too.

He decided to move into my place about six months ago, leaving Gavin to his own space. We spent the past year enjoying each other. Doing new things together just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were some weekend trips, plus one week long adventure where I got to use my beloved paid time off. We spent mornings sleeping in, lazy Sundays sipping coffee, wrapped around each other.

Logan opens the door for me now, letting me walk into the bar. This place is romantic, really intimate and charming. Sure, it’s full of tourists, but still, it’s nostalgic.

The tango show at Bar Sur is dazzling as the dancers move across the checkered floor to the sounds of the live band. Our small table is lit by candlelight, and I'm enthralled watching the show. I catch Logan watching me from the corner of my eye, and I reach out to squeeze his hand.

“Watch the show,” I whisper, but he just smiles.

Once we leave, stumbling out into the street, we walk slowly down the sidewalk. Every so often he stops to kiss me, smiling as he does.

“I love you,” he says, hand cupping my face. “I never want to let you go, you know that, right?”

And then he gets down on one knee.

“What are you doing?” I ask, wide-eyed.

“What do you think?”

“Here?” I might be panicking.

“No better place, I think,” he grins.

His smile is the same loving one I’ve always seen on him, but his hands are shaking as he pulls something out of his pocket. Mine shake too, as I reach over to hold his, suddenly bursting with joy and laughter and happy tears.

“You changed my life,” he says softly, his own eyes shining back at me. “You gave me back hope, and this dance, and a happiness I never thought I’d feel again.”

“You changed my life, too,” I say, shakily.

“Want to be my partner forever?” he whispers, small smile tucked into the corner of his mouth.

There's no answer but yes. I nod quickly, frantically, as I pull him up to kiss him. This has been the best year, a whirlwind that started when those shoes were placed on my lap. When my grandmother gave me the smallest little push and it lead me back home.

The night sky is covered in stars, and one is brighter than the rest, twinkling. Like my grandmother is winking down at us, mischievously. And lovingly.

Tomorrow morning T and Delfi fly in, joining us to spend some time in our beautiful country. But for now, for tonight, it's just us.

“You and me,” I say, in between kisses, smiling so much it hurts. “The best thing.”

---