Soulmates & Twin Flames

50 - Can You Hear Me?

The estate's garden feels like a surrealistic painting with flickering fairy lights, round tables, and flower arrangements that tower into a cloudy, purple sky. We are surrounded by a mighty forest, immersed in all shades of green. The scent of roses and pines blends with the mouthwatering aroma of fresh bread and creamy hors d'oeuvres the waiters are offering.

"This place is magical!" I say, grabbing a glass of champagne from a server's tray.

"Yeah, I've always liked it here," Nate replies.

A cello group plays classical music as we walk around the tables. My seat is at the edge of the dance floor.

"You'll be sitting here," Nate says, picking my name card from a gold service plate. Then he points at the bridal table behind the dance floor. "I'm supposed to be up there by the groom. Say the word, and I'll—"

"It's fine,"I say, patting his arm. "I'm okay."

Nate pulls out my chair and sits beside me. A sweet smile tugs the corner of his lips as our gazes linger around the garden.

"Nana used to throw my birthday parties in this garden," he says. "All the family would gather here at the end of summer. My aunts, cousins..."

My brows shoot up in surprise. "Is your birthday this month?"

He clicks his tongue, then pecks my nose. "Yeah, the last day of August."

"I can't believe it's been a year since we met."

Nate clinks our glasses with a chuckle and pecks my nose again.

The crowd is slowly taking their seats. Am I going to be the awkward ex stuck at the kids' table? Not that I mind, but I just wish Nate could stay a while longer. When a young couple arrives at our table, I let out a breath and squeeze Nate's hand.

"Not the kids' table," Nate whispers in my ear before politely giving his seat to a blonde woman. Then, standing behind my chair, he bites his lip and adjusts his jacket.

Is he fidgeting? He keeps tugging at his sleeves with a worried look in his eyes.

I glance up at Nate's handsome face, giving his hand another assuring squeeze. "I'll be fine."

His jaw tightens, but he manages to smile. Then he bends down to kiss my cheek. "I'll come find you after the speeches," he says.

When he turns to leave, I give his cute little butt a playful smack. Nate grins, throwing me a wink over his shoulder, making me chuckle.

Every woman in the garden watches him cross the empty dance floor.

Sorry, ladies—he is all mine.

Nate takes his place near the center of the bridal table. I smile back at him, but my gaze drifts to his legs under the table—they are bouncing up and down anxiously.

When Nate notices where I'm looking, he bites his lip and folds his arms over the table. His thoughtful gaze flicks past me and focuses somewhere in the distance.

What are you thinking, Nate?

Before I can follow his line of sight, a wave of applause erupts from the crowd. I turn in my chair to find the bride and groom step through the terrace's doors. Everybody's cheering for their big moment. Mr. and Mrs. Rhode.

I clap along as they walk past the tables. The bride's veil is gone, replaced with a diamond headband that catches the light. Her smile is genuine—warm, even.

The stage lights follow them across the dance floor and guide them to take a seat at the bridal table.

It feels like I'm watching a TV show—rehearsed, polished, and distant. None of it feels real for some reason.