Georgia's POV
Nick never let go of my hand as we trailed back from the parking lot toward the glow of the grand ballroom.
"Do we still have to do the wedding now that we're already married?" I asked, half-teasing, half trying to pin down the strange flutter in my chest.
"Of course we do." His answer was immediate. He stopped, pivoted, and cupped my face with his other hand. "Georgia, just because I registered us doesn't mean I won't make you walk down the aisle.
You deserve a white dress, a bouquet, and me waiting at the end of that aisle. I've seen it in my head a thousand times. I'll make it real—unless you don't want me to."
I bit the inside of my cheek and looked away for a bit, feeling the ache and sweetness of the gesture. "I do want a wedding," I said, "but small. Intimate. Not a circus. Reception can be as grand as you like, but the ceremony—just family and close friends. Can we do that?"
