Georgia's POV
Nick didn't even speak; he just took my hand, lacing our fingers together as if asking a question through touch alone.
And I answered him the same way.
With a nod, a breath, and a quiet squeeze.
While the guests erupted into laughter over Liam nervously approaching Ella with the garter, Nick gently tugged me toward the side exit. We slipped behind a few tall floral arrangements, past the catering tables, and through a dim walkway that led to the back deck of the venue. No one noticed. No one even glanced our way.
Nick looked over his shoulder once, made sure the coast was clear, then grinned.
"Come on, Mrs. Knight. Time to escape."
I laughed breathlessly as we ran, yes, ran, in our wedding clothes through the lantern-lit path, my heels clacking, his hand warm and steady around mine. We reached the private dock, and when the sleek silhouette of the yacht came into view, I slowed.
My yacht.
The one he gave me.
