Never Forgive Never Forget (Celeste and Philip) novel Chapter 174

Warmth seeped back into her body as Celeste carried the kitten into the bedroom. She glanced up just in time to see Alfred dragging his suitcase down the hallway.

"Was your trip alright?" she asked.

"It went fine," he replied.

He looked tired. Clearly, he'd wanted to get home as soon as possible.

Alfred gave Celeste a long, searching look, then glanced over at the living room, where dishes and ceramic boxes were scattered across the floor. Some of the boxes looked freshly opened, and inside one was the same ceramic piece Claud had sent a picture of earlier.

A gift for him.

Alfred paused in the doorway, silent, watching until the kitten padded over and began lapping water from the new bowl.

A flicker of coldness flashed in Alfred's eyes.

Claud, as usual, was meddling where he shouldn't.

He was about to turn away when Celeste caught his gaze and couldn't help but ask, "What do you think of the kitten's new bowl?"

"...It looks nice," Alfred said after a pause.

He didn't like it at all.

The air around him seemed to grow colder, but Celeste was oblivious. She fetched two mugs from the entryway and handed them to him.

"I made these for you," she said, a bit sheepish. "Last time, I only gave you that little keychain, and it felt kind of insincere. So when I had a break at your friend's workshop, I made two blue mugs with a water ripple pattern—they'll match your kitchen perfectly."

The mugs were cool to the touch, but Alfred felt his mood lift. Even the sight of the kitten drinking from the bowl didn't seem quite so irritating anymore.

"They're beautiful," he said.

Celeste let out a relieved breath.

Thank goodness—he liked them.

She took the smaller bag from his suitcase. "I'm glad you do. Let's take your things home and put everything away. The sooner we're done, the sooner you can get some rest. Consider it a thank-you for helping me find the kitten today."

"What would she be doing in a men's store? Shopping for Alfred, or for that guy who picked her up the other day?" Philip muttered, turning to see Celeste chatting with the saleswoman.

He remembered how Celeste used to come to these stores alone, picking out shirts for herself. But who was she shopping for today?

He led Viola closer, blurting out, "Who are you shopping for, Celeste?"

That familiar voice made Celeste's expression harden. Not again.

She turned away, about to explain, but the saleswoman beat her to it. "She's picking out a shirt for her boyfriend," she said brightly.

Well, that saved Celeste the trouble of answering.

Without looking back, Celeste continued browsing.

Philip's face lit up when he heard it—he was the only one who'd ever been Celeste's boyfriend, at least publicly.

He strode up with a gentle smile. "Celly, I didn't expect you still remembered to pick out clothes for me."