Page 92 of Dancing Struggles


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Strong, smart, confident Leland. The kind of man who can have anything he wants. Gets his way, and always has, is unsure, nervous, because he doesn’t see . . . Just like I couldn’t.

“I don’t think so,” I say, sliding my hands about his neck, “because I already do. I don’t think I can learn something that’s already there. And you and I, we’ve been all over the place because of love.”

And I know I have to woman up here.

“I have. I’ve been pushing you away, judging you, running, wanting you, and hating myself for it because I’m in love with you. I might have fallen a bit in love with you when we first met. You were like nothing I’ve ever met before or since.”

“We’re both way too strong-willed. And I . . . Sarah, when I kept saying take it day by day and see where it goes, I think it’sbecause deep down, I knew it was you and me. I knew I loved you, and I just couldn’t find a way to admit it.”

“I love you, Leland.” I suddenly laugh. “It feels so good to admit it, to say it.”

“I know.” He drops his head against mine. “One day, sweet Sarah, I’m going to marry you. I’m getting you a ring, and we’ll take it slow and—”

“Any day, Leland, Any time.”

He grins and then kisses me slowly. My toes curl as my heart swells, and I kiss him back, savoring it, savoring him. When he pulls away, he says, “You know, I really think I’m the marrying kind.”

“You are?”

“Yes,” he says.

And I know then and there, we’re going to make it. That our lives are synched finally, and our love has gotten us this far to this point, all with us both fighting it. Imagine what we can do if we do it together?

“Leland,” I say, “if I don’t want to take it slow?”

“We won’t.”

He starts to dance with me again, and I rise on my toes and kiss him. “Marry me, Leland?”

My man smiles. “Yes. But if anyone asks, I asked you.”

I return his smile. “You got it.”

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