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“Gay?” Chema asks. “Yeah. I’m gay.”
“I thought you and Valentina—”
“Nope. Never,” Chema assures Rory.
“Wait, he thought you and Valentina what?” Nico asks with a raised eyebrow.
Rory clears his throat and suddenly can’t look at the two men standing next to us. “I’m sorry, I made assumptions—”
“Wait, you thought Chema and Valentina . . . No!” Nico squeals and lets out a roar of laughter. “Have you never met a gay man before?”
“Amor,” Chema says, “we’re ruining their engagement. Come on, let’s go—”
I finally snap out of my stupor. “No,” I say. “I’m glad you two have planned out my future without discussing it with me, but you have failed to recognize that I’m not property, and neither of you owns me.”
The nerve.
I storm toward the locker room and don’t hear the steps behind me from Rory following. I’m pulling my bag out of my locker when he finds me.
“I’m sorry. That’s not how I intended things to go,” he says softly.
“Really? You didn’t intend to propose when I’ve been at the gym sweating my ass off? You didn’t plan all this with Chema? Tell me, Rory, did he help you pick out a ring?”
“No, that’s not what . . . um, I was going to ask you to dinner and propose then.”
“Why did you do it here, then?”
“I saw you.”
“So?”
“That’s it. I saw you, and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand you being with anyone other than me for a second longer.”
“Like property,” I say.
“No. Not like property. I’m in love with you. That hasn’t changed. And damn it, Valentina. I know you love me too. Be honest with yourself. Be honest with me. And don’t get me started on how you let me think you and Chema—”
“Let’s suppose for a moment you’re right. It changes nothing. You live in Kansas City. I live in Mexico City.”
“I’ll move here, if that’s what it takes.”
I rear back and blink at him. “You would?”
“Yes. Nothing’s more important to me than never again spending a minute apart from you.”
“What about your residency?”
“I’ll start over. Here.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t speak Spanish.”
“I’ll learn.”
“So let me get this straight. You’re willing to drop your residency, move to a foreign country, get married, and practice medicine here? But to do all that, you’ll learn Spanish first?”
Rory nods, and the corners of his mouth quirk up. He takes a step forward and cups my cheek in his hand. “I’m way ahead of the curve. I already know how to saylagaña.”
I punch his middle playfully, and his abs are hard on impact. “I’m being serious,” I say.
