The entire table froze, and Prischa looked down at her plate in shame. Giselle listened to his tone, and her heart cracked a little. He sounded angry. Not over it. Like Viggo had violated.
“You said a bad word,” Harlee pointed out while chewing.
“Yes, he did, and he knows better,” Petal chastised.
“Listen, Heavy, it wasn’t like that—” Prischa tried to explain, which slowly sent Viggo’s head spinning in her direction.
The fuck did she mean by that?Why the hell was she explaining anything to him when he was sitting across from them with a whole family at this point.
“It either is or it ain’t, Pri.” Heavy’s jaw clenched.
“Well, we aren’t together anymore,” she said, holding her head up. “You obviously moved on.”
“Is that what this was? Some get back?” he asked, his voice betraying him.
“Mmm, this is about to get good?” Henna chimed in.
“Henna!” Petal hissed.
Giselle didn’t like the direction this conversation was going. It felt intrusive, like she shouldn’t be here to witness it. It was similar to the first time she saw Heavy and Prischa together. There was an obvious history and bond there that she could never compete with.
“Look, Heav, the shit happened. One night. That’s it,” Viggo broke down as he leaned toward his cousin.
Leaning back in his chair, Heavy rubbed his face and shoved his plate aside. It was taking everything not to snatch Viggo up across the table for various reasons.
“One night that neither of you was going to mention, right?” His gaze gamboled from Prischa back to Viggo. Anger was evident in the heat radiating off his body.
Giselle sat quietly, setting her fork against her plate since her appetite had disappeared. Her throat tightened, and she held her own feelings inside as Heavy exposed his. She hadn’texpected him to react so raw to this news, considering he ended things with Prischa.Was he jealous? Did he still want her? Was he only with her because of the twins?These thoughts flooded her mind, drowning her in them.
“I didn’t know it mattered to you who I fucked with,” Prischa quipped. “Considering your situation.” Her eyes darted to Giselle, who was now looking in her lap.
Petal gasped softly. “Oh, dear.”
Heavy finally looked at Giselle. Guilt flickered behind his eyes, but the tension still coiled in him. This shit was not cool. She didn’t miss the way his eyes cut at Prischa when he pushed his chair away from the table and stood. Something unresolved still hung in the air between them, and that, more than anything, was what hurt. When dinner wrapped, Petal and Henna cleared the table and Giselle excused herself to the bathroom. She purposely held herself in there, so she didn’t have to face Heavy or his family. Part of her was embarrassed, while another side of her was angry and confused. When she finally emerged, she bumped right into Toussaint as he was passing by.
“You okay?” he asked, concern etched in his face.
“Yeah.” Giselle looked down at her dress.
“I wouldn’t read too much into that,” Toussaint offered. “Prischa and Heavy have a history. He’s only looking out for her because Viggo can be a bit much.”
“Well, seems a little more than that. I can’t exactly be mad at it, though, right? Before I got here, the two of them were an item.”
“Maybe, but… I can tell how my son is with you, Giselle.” Toussaint smiled. “He’s never felt like this before. You are the woman he wants to be with and build with.”
“I appreciate you saying that, Toussaint, but I would rather hear it from Heavy.”
“I understand.” He nodded.
Giselle moved toward the living room. It was dark outside, and now she wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl into her bed. Petal offered them food to go, which she gladly accepted, and the twins skipped ahead of her and Heavy outside to his truck. The night air was crisp, cool, and painfully quiet aside from the laughter of her children racing down the sidewalk. Crickets chirped in the brush, but all Giselle heard was the echo of Heavy’s voice at the table:You fucking with her.She knew what she heard, and she knew how he said it, too fast and too defensive. It was like a crack he was trying to plaster over, but everyone saw through it.
Walking beside her, head low, he couldn’t stop thinking about Prischa and Viggo. There was a whole lot he could say, but he didn’t want to start some shit in front of the kids, so he chose to let it go. For now.
Once the twins were buckled in, he and Giselle climbed into the front seats. She didn’t utter a word as she yanked her seatbelt across her chest.
Sighing, he swiped his beard and started his truck. “Look, about what happened back there?—”
“It’s fine,” she quickly replied, staring straight ahead.
