We’re on Day Seven of our Patagonia hiking adventure. In the last few days, we’ve visited various gorgeous national parks in Chile and Argentina, set foot along the mountain ranges of Andes, and witnessed the glacier-covered peaks of Torres del Paine and the vertical granite walls of French River valley.
We’re now resting at a vista point in the middle of Los Glaciares National Park, in front of a breath-taking view where the Perito Moreno Glacier meets Lake Argentino. It’s overwhelming and otherworldly. Rolls of white clouds float above us under the azure sky, while thick, jagged mass of ice covers the turquoise water. In the distance, the jagged Monte Fitz Roy is shrouded in cloud and sprinkled with snow.
“So magnificent,” Kayla says between pants as we both make it to the end of the trail.
Santiago, our guide, gives each of us a high five.
“Good job, you two. Now enjoy the view.”
Kayla holds my waist and stamps a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you!” she whispers into my ear.
“For what?”
“For taking me on this trip. For making my dream come true.”
I hold her tight. “I should thank you, baby. I needed it.”
I glance at the awe-inspiring natural scenery around me and truly grateful that I’m here. In the past ten years I seldom left San Francisco, let alone the U.S. In my younger days I would go hiking and camping, but later, family and business duties consumed most of my time. I didn’t have any complaint. Now, I realize how much I’ve missed out.
“I feel so small being here,” Kayla says after taking a picture of the vast lake below us. “If someone takes a picture of me from the opposite of the lake, I’ll be the size of an insect.”
I chuckle. “I know. But I feel young, too, sweetheart.” According to Santiago, the Perito Moreno glacier is at least 18k years old. I’m a newborn in comparison.
This is our last hike, tomorrow we’ll go to Buenos Aires, and then fly back to the States.
“One day we’ll hike the Los Tres,” Kayla suggests as we sit down on a rock, gazing at the three snowy peaks of El Chaltén longingly.
“Definitely,” I nod. It’s an arduous task that requires skills and strength. “We’ll have to practice.”
“How?”
“We’ll go hiking once a week, after we get back to SF,” I say. “How about Tuesdays?”
“Sounds good.”
“Ready?” Santiago returns.
“Just a minute,” I say as I snap a photo of Kayla on my phone.
“Want me to take a picture for both of you?”
“Sure,” I say. “That’ll be perfect. Thank you.”
I pass him my phone and wrap my arm around Kayla’s shoulder.
“One more, please, but wait just a minute.” I pull out the velvet box I’ve been carrying with me for the past days, open it as calmly as I can under Kayla’s curious eyes, and get down on one knee in front of her. “Kayla, you brought immense joy to my life in the past year. You’ve been a brilliant manager and a wonderful girlfriend, but I want more. Will you marry me, Kayla?”
Kayla squeals as she slaps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes turn to saucers, gleaming with surprise and joy. “No way!” she whispers.
Shit.Is that a no?My heart sinks and my vision turns blurry. All the beauty around us, the blue sky, the fantastic clouds and the magnificent ice, fades into darkness.
It’s been a year since I first kissed her. Words can’t describe my love for her. She is the reason I’m feeling young and hopeful. She is the reason I finally leave my comfort zone. She’s the reason I stop grieving and start living again.
Her eyes brim with tears as they fix on me, and she struggles with her emotions. She looks as if she’s never expected I’ll do what I’m doing. She knows I love her, but never bargains for more. She allows me to cherish my memory with Olivia. She doesn’t hope to possess my heart entirely.
Santiago waits patiently, his eyes shift between my phone and us.
Kayla wipes her tears. “If I said yes, would I still be your manager?”
I chuckle. “If you wish, sweetheart, or I could be yours.”
She giggles. “Yes, Richard. I’ll marry you!”
Santiago whistles and I hear a few handclaps from a thin crowd that’s gathering around us. I don’t see them. I slip the ring onto Kayla’s finger and kiss her.
