As the cooing of the congregation reached fever pitch, and the first strains of ‘The Bridal Chorus’ soared high to the vaulted ceiling of the church, a heady dose of love and agonising regret coursed through Stewart’s veins.

Glancing over his shoulder, hoping his look of angst could somehow be mistaken for a more positive emotion, the sight of the blushing bride walking slowly but with purpose down the all-too-short aisle almost had him running past her and out the door.

Of course, Olivia looked beautiful. Of course, she was happy.

And so should I be – this is a good thing. A good day. Good.

The vicar’s pleasantries passed in a blur, and all too soon that pivotal line, that final, suicidal get-out clause was upon him.

“If anyone here knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, they should declare it now.”

He managed a largely unnoticed cough.

A long, lingering kiss sealed the deal.

Stewart wasn’t the kind to leap from his seat declaring his undying love for a girl who would never understand.