We're leaving the park when the sky opens up.One moment we're walking toward the exit, hand in hand, talking about nothing important. The next, rain is pouring down like the world is ending."Shit!" Lucien pulls me under a bridge. Other people are already there, shaking off water, laughing.We're soaked. Completely drenched. My hair drips into my eyes. Lucien's shirt clings to his chest.We look at each other and start laughing.Real laughing. The kind that comes from the gut. The kind that's been trapped under months of stress and fear and careful control."So much for a perfect date," he says, pushing wet hair off his forehead."I don't know. This is pretty memorable.""Memorable as in we'll tell the story fondly? Or memorable as in trauma?""Both probably."The rain doesn't let up. If anything, it gets worse. People start making runs for it, darting out into the downpour toward taxis and subway entrances.We stay. Under the bridge. Watching water turn the park into something from
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