When God was doling out husbands, mine landed, well, not in my lap, but pretty darn close, beside me.

I sat in the middle seat of row 16 next to an older, unmemorable man to my left, and an empty seat to my right. Stuck as I was, the crowded flight had me wishing. If only a hot guy would walk down that aisle and sit next to me. The year was 1997.

And if on command: a hot guy. I couldn’t believe it. Precisely what I had wished for, but I quickly wrote him off. Since when do you dream up someone to sit next to you, and he magically appears?

The man I don’t remember, stood up and got out of the way to let Alex pass. I stayed put and hugged my knees to my chest, so this mystery guy could scootch by.

Not meaning to draw attention to myself, Alex noticed anyway. Not that I knew that part of the story yet, or even that his name was Alex.

He sat down, fastened his seat belt, and was good looking enough to trigger my insecurities. I was terrified to need someone. Prepared to prove that I could do anything on my own, I pegged him a jerk. I’m tired of always initiating conversations. No way I’m talking to him first.

In self-defense, I feigned writing the questions I planned to ask Grandpa for his 70th birthday video.

Alex opened and closed his magazine, which happened to be Forbes. No wonder he’s bored. He glanced over and saw my list of questions and thought she must be a psychiatrist.

It’s like I had a genie who granted me my wishes. Alex spoke first. “On these crowded flights, you spend more time on the ground than you do in the air.”

Neither of us had any idea I’d be quoting his pick up line 23 years later.

We taxied and got ready for take-off–time for a quick prayer. I’ve been doing it ever since I was little. Only on that flight, my future husband beat me to it.

He made the sign of the cross, grabbed the cross and dog tag that hung from a chain around his neck, and sealed it with a kiss. (He still wears this gift from his parents.)

I looked at him in amazement when I realized what had happened. I silently said my prayer and didn’t make any gestures, so he didn’t think I was copying him.

We didn’t stop talking until it was time for his transfer in Charlotte to then get to Tennessee. We only had an hour and a half to discover that I lived in NYC, and Alex lived on Long Island. He was really from Bolivia, but people always got it confused with Bulgaria. I laughed.

It didn’t seem to phase me that Alex was visiting his girlfriend. Despite the long-distance relationship, they were contemplating marriage.

I listened, said nothing, and nodded as if I was that wise psychiatrist Alex had mistaken me to be. If this guy has to ask a stranger what she thinks about his relationship, he’s in trouble.

I collected my bag that I had shoved underfoot. I pulled out my ticket to see where my new seat would be. We talked until I relocated somewhere upfront as the flight continued to Columbia.

He looked disappointed when he realized I was staying. We needed more time, we both knew that, but we’d run out of it. He slipped into the seat in front of mine and asked for my number. I gave him my work and home numbers, just in case.

My roommate and I had a theory that guys lived by a three-day rule: no self-respecting guy would call a girl until the third day. But this was different. We weren’t dating. We’d be going out as friends.

Even still, he wouldn’t call me after seeing his girlfriend. To be sure, I’d start counting when he came home Sunday night.

Meanwhile, I had a room full of family to see in Columbia, South Carolina, just as Alex had a girlfriend in Tennessee.

I go back to that room, and I see Grandma and Grandpa alive again. Along with my aunts and uncles and Mom and Dad. I’ve never seen myself so wildly excited.

“I met the guy I’m going to marry. Slight problem, he has a girlfriend.”

I still feel bad that she got hurt, but there seemed to be something bigger at play and out of our control. “I sat next to this guy. He’s either from Bolivia or Bulgaria; I can’t remember which one.”

Dad remembers it well. When I told him last night that meeting Alex was this week’s topic, he said, “The room lit up when you walked in. You glowed.”

“And I was petrified that you were going to get hurt,” Dad said. “He had a girlfriend, and he was from Bolivia. And the most amazing thing is how you knew.”

“Oh, he’ll call,” I told everyone who was listening. He did, but barely. His three days were almost up when he called at 9 pm on Wednesday.

Though Alex and I are still by each other’s side, so much has changed since then. US Air is now defunct, and COVID’s rampant.

But even while writing this, love is in the air again.

I dreamed him up, and then Alex appeared. We sat next to each other, not knowing our deepest souls, but God did. Yet I got off that plane a different person for having met Alex. I wasn’t supposed to do my life alone.

Every year July 25th rolls around, we don’t have to be on a plane to know what we’ve got. I can look beside me and see who God sent. We’ve been flying high ever since.