There is a scientific test that can determine each person's soulmate, with only one match for each human being. This is the subject of Soulmates, a 2020 American [television] series.
The test consists of extracting genetic information from an individual, ensuring an exact correlation with another person, and only with that person.
Throughout each episode, stories unfold where certainty reigns supreme. No one thinks to question 'the test.' Subjects cross the ocean to meet their soulmate, get divorced, change their sexual orientation, commit crimes, mourn a stranger who died because they were their soulmate. The test is a categorical result that orders the subjects' lives, leaving affection, mystery, and questions out of the game.
Unlike other works of fiction in which the protagonists search for their other half from a world of loneliness, this series shows subjects who are linked to a partner and who, faced with scientific evidence, undo existing ties without trusting what works and striving to make the scientific statement exist.
Only one of the stories—of the six that make up the series—gives rise to contingency: Mateo is on his way to find his soulmate, but in a bar, he meets Jonah, with whom he has a casual sexual encounter. When he arrives at his hotel, he notices that Jonah has stolen his passport and he begins the search for the stolen object. This search gives rise to a series of situations that usher in romantic entanglement: glances, small gestures, humour. Something slips in there and the spark between victim and thief appears. Surprise! Goodbye to the reign of proof, hello to the detail of love.
Soulmates proposes a universal of sexual equivalence. However, the story of Mateo and Jonah emerges like a river pearl in a necklace of cultured pearls, an irregular detail more akin to mystery than science. What made Mateo fall in love with someone who stole his passport?
Jacques-Alain Miller suggests that we love those who we believe hold the answer to our question: 'Who am I?'¹ A mystery that gives us an illusion, making us believe for a moment that there is sexual proportion, not a certainty, rather a 'maybe', a contingent suppletion that objects to the universal of Soulmate.

^[1] Miller, J.-A., "Does psychoanalysis teach us anything about love?", interview with Jacques-Alain Miller in the French magazine Psychologies. Available online: congresamp.com.