Never Forgive Never Forget (Celeste and Philip) novel Chapter 154

"What's up?"

Celeste couldn't help but smile at the energy in Janice's voice on the other end of the line. She leaned back into the couch, hugging a soft pillow close.

As usual, Janice started with a little playful whining before finally getting to the point.

"I've been working on restoring this old piece of porcelain, but I've hit a wall. Someone at work reminded me that your mom once made a series of pieces with the same technique. I wanted to ask—do you know if you still have any left from that collection?"

"It doesn't have to be perfect—something with minor flaws is fine. I just want to practice before I tackle the real thing and risk ruining it."

She sent over two pictures of antique porcelain, plus a file with some details about the technique.

Celeste knew a fair bit about this sort of thing herself. She paused, thinking.

"I actually saved some of the less-than-perfect pieces for my mom. Looking at this, I think we have one with similar craftsmanship and just as intricate a pattern. I can bring it over for you to study later, if you want?"

"Really!? Cece, you are an absolute lifesaver! I love you!"

Janice sounded so thrilled, Celeste could almost picture her jumping up and down with her phone in hand. She couldn't help but laugh.

No time like the present.

Besides, she wasn't feeling sleepy anyway.

Celeste instinctively reached for her phone to call a ride, but started thinking about how much hassle it would be to get back from the house in the suburbs late at night.

Then she glanced over and spotted car keys sitting on the entryway table.

"Talk about perfect timing."

Alfred had just given her the car keys, and now she had an excuse to use them.

Since she was just heading out to the house to grab some ceramics, there was no need to dress up for anyone. She threw on some cozy loungewear, grabbed the keys, and headed downstairs.

The elevator doors slid open to the underground garage.

As soon as she stepped out, she saw two familiar figures walking toward her.

"You again?"

Viola couldn't hide her irritation, her voice sharp with accusation. "It's late, Celeste. Couldn't you bother to put on something decent before coming out?"

And then, fueled by alcohol and longing, desire bubbled up inside him.

Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed Celeste's wrist.

"Celly, I—"

He didn't even finish his sentence.

Celeste turned, her eyes cold and full of disgust as she looked at him.

She yanked her arm, her voice icy and flat. "Let go."

Each word was clipped, holding no warmth at all.

Philip froze, the pain in his chest sharp and sudden, as if a thousand needles had pierced him.

Why…

Why did his Celly look at him with nothing but contempt?