Georgia's POV
I pushed open the door to Nick's office as he carried me inside, still refusing to let me walk on my own. His office was exactly what I expected—modern, sleek, and minimalist, with just enough décor to make it feel warm instead of boring. It had him written all over it—organized, calm, and a little intimidating.
But the moment he set me down on the sofa, my gaze caught something on the wall opposite his desk—and my jaw dropped.
"What the hell?" I blurted out, half laughing, half shocked. "Are you obsessed with me or something? Where did you even get those pictures?"
Right there on the wall was a massive photo collage of us—four beautifully framed moments frozen in time. The first was from the island, the day we were supposed to be married by the shore. The second, from the ball, moments before he proposed.
