CHAPTER 361: ORANGE AND TEAL (1)

Georgia’s POV

"Mommy!"

Katie’s little voice chimed the moment I stepped into the waiting area, bright and excited enough to melt every last bit of nervousness in me. I turned toward her, instantly smiling. God, she looked adorable.

Her natural curls were bundled into a bouncy ponytail, tied with a dark teal ribbon that matched the sash around her dress. She and Vienna were both in burnt-orange tulle today, warm, autumn-soft, and impossibly cute, like little sunset princesses.

Katie came running toward me, her tiny hands clutching a basket overflowing with orange, yellow, and white petals. The basket was almost as big as her.

"Careful, baby, you might trip," I laughed as I crouched, gathering the skirt of my gown so I could meet her at eye level.

Her eyes widened when she got a closer look at me. "You look so pretty, Mommy..." she whispered, brushing her small fingers against a curl pinned near my cheek.

My heart fluttered. "And you," I tapped her nose, "are the prettiest flower girl in the world. You remember what to do, right?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes! Candice said I should count while I walk and spread the flowers. Like this!" She lifted her chin and began demonstrating, stepping, tossing imaginary petals, and counting out loud with full, exaggerated concentration.

Wendy and I burst into soft laughter.

"Oh dear, Katie," Wendy said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Only count in your mind, sweetheart. Quiet counting."

Katie frowned for a second, processing the new information, then nodded with exaggerated seriousness.

"Katie!" Candice called from the rattan divider, smiling at her warmly. "Come, sweetheart. It’s your turn."

Katie turned back to me, her ribbon bouncing with the movement. "Bye, Mommy! See you later!" she said in a tiny sing-song voice, already hurrying toward Candice.

I watched her skip away, petals rustling in her basket, and my heart squeezed in the softest, sweetest way. All the nerves, all the emotions of this day, settled into something warm and steady.

Something that felt like love, pure, overflowing, and about to lead me down the aisle.

"You alright?" Ella appeared at my side like a gentle breeze, slipping my bouquet into my hands before offering me a folded tissue with an unmistakable smirk. "Here. For when you cry your way down the aisle."

I rolled my eyes, but the smile tugging at my lips completely betrayed me. "You’re terrible," I whispered, accepting both the bouquet and the tissue with grateful fingers. The flowers were a burst of orange, yellow, and white, warm and sun-kissed, like the day we were standing in.

Ella wasn’t alone, of course. My bridesmaids gathered behind her, each of them glowing in rust-orange georgette dresses. The strapless cut framed them beautifully, and the soft, flowy skirts swayed just below their knees with every breath of ocean air. I wanted them to feel comfortable and free today, not trapped in layers of fabric and seeing them now, light and effortless, made my heart swell.

Ella, though, stood out just a little, exactly as she should. Her waist was cinched with a wide teal belt, a quiet, elegant marker of her being my maid of honor.

All of them wore the pearl necklace and bracelet I had gifted earlier, the same soft luster that reminded me of the day Nick handed me those pearls he’d found on the island. A moment that changed everything. A moment that felt like a promise long before he ever said the words.

The guys, on the other hand, were a whole different kind of charming chaos. The groomsmen were dressed in crisp white long-sleeve shirts tucked neatly into dark teal shorts, each with a matching teal jumper.

A little unconventional, yes, but the boutonnière pinned to the left side, yellow, white, and orange blooms just like the bridesmaids’ bouquets, pulled everything together in a way that was unexpectedly perfect.

Oliver, Nick’s best man, had an upgraded look, no jumper, but a tailored dark teal vest that made him look like he’d stepped out of a seaside magazine cover.

Candice pitched the idea at first, and we’d all hesitated. Groomsmen... in shorts? At a wedding?

But looking at them now, handsome, relaxed, sunlit, and effortlessly cool, it all made sense. It was a beach wedding. They looked exactly like they belonged to this moment, this place, this love.

And honestly... how often do you get to say your groom’s entourage rocked teal shorts and pulled it off flawlessly?

I couldn’t help but smile. Everything was coming together. Everything felt right.

The theme of our wedding was a rustic beach dream, warm, earthy, sun-kissed. The orange symbolized the sunset, and the teal symbolized the ocean... the two things that witnessed every twist of fate that pushed Nick and me together. It felt poetic, looking at the colors around me and knowing they weren’t just aesthetic choices; they were memories stitched into the fabric of this day.

Orange for the sky, we watched the first night we felt safe together.

Teal for the waters that carried us... trapped us... saved us.

But if I’m being honest, I think we were bound long before either sunset or sea ever touched our story. Sometimes I swear that when I first stood close to him aboard his ship, something ancient inside me stirred, like two souls recognizing each other after being separated for far too long. Lovers in another life, picking up exactly where they left off.

As the waiting area slowly emptied, the laughter and chatter faded, and I found myself suddenly standing in quiet anticipation. It was time.

Candice approached with the kind of focus only a wedding planner could possess. She checked my hair, smoothed a tiny crease on my dress, adjusted the angle of my bouquet, then stepped back with a satisfied nod.

"You’re perfect," she declared. "Your groom is waiting... and honestly, I hope he’s got good balance because the moment he sees you, I’m not entirely sure he won’t faint."

I let out a soft laugh, but the flutter under my ribs didn’t disappear. If anything, it grew. My nervousness had shot straight through the roof. Which was ridiculous, really—Nick and I were already married on paper. This ceremony was supposed to be the simple part. Just the celebration. Just the moment the world finally got to see what he and I had secretly been for a long time now.

Mrs. Knight.

I rolled the name through my mind, and warmth bloomed in my chest.

Candice pressed a finger to the earpiece in her right ear, listening, then nodded sharply. When she turned back to me, her expression softened into something almost emotional.

"That’s our cue," she said. Then she squeezed my hand. "Let’s go."

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Thanks for the Golden Ticket Janelle_Fox_0014!