Chapter 95

Gavin actually laughed. Giselle let go of the tent pole and turned to walk away. The pole dropped squarely on Gavin's shoulder, and he let out a low grunt. "Are you trying to murder your own husband?" Giselle ignored him. There was something off and unfamiliar about him tonight. And yet… it was the exact version of him she used to dream her husband could be. Her heart was a mess. She couldn't afford for the fragile peace she had rebuilt to crack open again. And still, inside, she was cursing Gavin. Had they known each other too well? Was that why he knew all her weaknesses? Giselle sank back into her camping chair, her heartbeat hammering in a wild, uneven rhythm. Meanwhile, Gavin finished pitching the tent in no time. That was when it hit her—she had been played. He wasn't even struggling with it to begin with. Asking for her help had been intentional all along. But what exactly was he trying to do? Gavin returned and sat right beside her—in the seat Penelope had just been in.