Page 8 of The Soulmate

Halfway into our walk, when it started to rain, I began to weep loudly.

Part of me enjoyed how theatrical it was – heartbroken, sobbing openly in a park. I was wearing pyjama pants beneath my puffer jacket, and ugg boots. I was the very image of a person at their worst.

The wedding that came into view as we walked around the pond felt like a particularly harsh blow, even if I didn’t envy them the weather. Guests stood huddled under umbrellas, crowded around the three rows of white chairs. At the front, under a small awning, a tall, good-looking groomsman and a nervous-looking bridesmaid held large white golf umbrellas over the bride and groom. Kat muttered something about how desperate they must have been to get married outside on such a day, but I was distracted by the groomsman. He was eye-wateringly handsome. And he was staring, unblinkingly, at me.

Given my pyjama pants/puffer jacket combination, the chances that he was checking me out seemed reasonably low. I chalked it up to the dramatic crying.

‘He’s staring at you,’ Kat said.

‘I know,’ I replied.

For the sake of the wedding, I reined in the tears as we passed them. Unfortunately, Mudguts stopped to do his business just a few metres from the scene.

‘Another reason not to get married outside,’ Kat murmured, pulling a plastic bag from her pocket. ‘So you don’t have to say your vows while a dog shits nearby. You pick it up.’

‘Who are you, the Queen? In fact, I’m pretty sure even the Queen picks up after her corgis.’ But despite my grumbling I bent to pick it up.

And that’s why I was bent over, with a plastic bag over my hand, the first time I heard his voice.

‘Excuse me?’

It sounds dramatic to say the effect that voice had on me. I felt itin my body.

Kat and I turned in unison.

It was the groomsman. He was tall, broad-shouldered, strong. With his golden hair and skin, he reminded me of a lion.

Behind him, the wedding guests watched from under their umbrellas. Many of them were smiling or laughing, whispering to each other. It gave the impression that wandering away from a wedding ceremony in which he played an important role wasn’t unusual behaviour for this groomsman.

The bride was not laughing.

‘Sorry,’ I said, assuming the bride had complained about the dog pooping near her wedding. ‘I’ll just get this, and we’ll be on our way.’

I cursed the universe for putting this glorious man in my path while I was wearing pyjama pants and picking up poop. Although, it had to be said, the glorious man looked a little dishevelled himself. His white shirt looked conspicuously un-ironed and appeared to be untucked at the back. The pocket of his trousers was half pulled out, displaying their shiny silk lining.

The rain got heavier.

‘No,I’msorry,’ he said. ‘Mostly for Lucy, the bride, who will never forgive me for interrupting her wedding. It’s just that I noticed you crying and I . . . I felt this overwhelming urge to ask if you were okay. Then I thought: that’s stupid, you’re with a friend and I’m the groomsman at a wedding while the couple are exchanging their vows. But you stopped, and I thought, well, it must be a sign.’ He smiled. ‘Do you believe in signs?’

‘Yes,’ I said.

I didn’t believe in signs.

Gabe looked delighted by my answer. Kat disguised a laugh as a cough.

‘In that case, I’d like a sign that I should ask you on a date.’

Gabe raised his eyes to the heavens, and for a moment we all waited.

What happened next was freaky. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, and if Kat hadn’t witnessed it, I wouldn’t have believed it.

The rain stopped.

A cheer went up from the wedding party nearby.

I looked at Kat. Her jaw hung open. Gabe also looked stunned. I felt a smile come to my face for the first time in days.

Neither of us noticed the groom approaching, but suddenly he was standing behind Gabe. ‘Sorry, mate, but can you do this later? It’s your turn to sign the register.’