Every Saturday, Steven claimed he was visiting his parents, but new shirts, a jewelry receipt, and vague excuses raised suspicion. One weekend, I followed him and was shocked to see him walking into a dance studio with a blonde woman. He, the man who swore he’d never dance, was waltzing—with her. The woman was Daisy, my former student who had disappeared months ago.
Furious, I stormed in with my co-instructor, stole the floor with a routine, and called them out. Steven was stunned. I didn’t wait for explanations, packed his things, and went home. The next morning, I walked into my studio and froze. Steven was there, holding roses. Then, he danced—a perfect routine I had choreographed. At the end, he knelt and offered a ring, saying, “It was all for you. I wanted to give you the dance you always dreamed of.”
Tears in my eyes, I said yes as our friends and family cheered. It was the perfect proposal.
