Georgia's POV
Dinner ended the same way the whole day felt—warm, messy, joyful, and so full of love it made my chest tighten. Someone lit the bonfire near the shoreline, its glow dancing on everyone's faces as we all migrated toward it with our plates of dessert.
The long picnic table was still cluttered with empty plates, half-eaten grilled corn, bottles of water and soda, and that one lonely bowl of fruit salad nobody seemed to touch except Steven. But the moment the staff brought out the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars, all eyes, especially Katie's and Ella's, sparkled with excitement.
Nick settled on a wooden bench near the fire with his guitar resting lazily on his lap, his fingers absentmindedly strumming whatever melody came to mind. Every now and then, he'd hum, the deep tone blending so perfectly with the crackling fire, it felt like the island itself had background music.
