Never Forgive Never Forget (Celeste and Philip) novel Chapter 2

From then on, whenever Philip had to pick—Celeste or Viola—his choice was almost always the same.

Nine times out of ten, it was Viola.

Celeste hadn't taken it lying down, either. There had been arguments.

Philip would always look at her with disappointment clouding his face, brow furrowed. "Viola's not in good health. She can't compare to you in anything, so stop picking on her."

So being a little fragile meant Viola could shamelessly steal her boyfriend?

Her phone buzzed repeatedly on the table.

Celeste snatched it up right away.

Three new messages flashed onto the screen.

[Viola's violin skills really are world-class. Philip has already helped me get in touch with a teacher—after the concert, he'll take me to meet them.]

[Isn't it your birthday today? I pushed Philip to go home to you, but he was worried I wouldn't eat properly, so he insisted on staying with me. You called so many times, he got annoyed and turned off his phone.]

[This is the gift Philip gave me. Miss Celeste, do you think it matches my dress?]

A gorgeous, multicolored diamond bracelet sparkled in the photo. The latest piece from a luxury brand—one that required pre-ordering weeks in advance just to get your hands on.

Celeste remembered mentioning it to Philip when the ad campaign first launched.

So he'd bought it all right—just not for her.

Celeste calmly set her phone down, lit a candle, and celebrated her birthday alone. Every last bit of food went into the trash, including the cake she'd spent half a month learning how to bake from scratch.

The only reason she was waiting until next week to leave was because, after thirteen years, her life and Philip's were hopelessly entangled. Emotionally. Practically. Cutting ties wouldn't be easy.

She needed time.

Half-asleep, she felt the mattress dip as someone sat beside her.

A cool hand brushed her cheek, gently squeezing. Philip's familiar, deep voice was warm with the affection she'd heard a thousand times.

"Celly, I'm sorry I'm late. Here—your birthday present. See if you like it."

The interruption dragged her from sleep. She frowned, blinking herself awake.

A few minutes later, Viola's message arrived, right on schedule.

[Did you put on the bracelet? Miss Celeste, you must accept it, okay? It took me ages to convince Philip to give it to you. He adores how thoughtful I am—after the concert, he insisted on buying me one as well.]

[I love what this bracelet represents: that the one who's loved will always be happy.]

The same brand, their most iconic couple's bracelet.

The year Philip started his company, he'd taken Celeste to see this bracelet in the boutique. Back then, money was so tight she'd sold two ceramic pieces her mother had left her just to help Philip bridge the gap for some critical projects.

She couldn't bear to see him burdened.

Once the business took off, though, he never brought up the bracelet again.

When the project money finally came in, she'd gone back for those ceramics, but they'd already been bought by a mysterious collector for an exorbitant sum—gone for good.

That night, Philip didn't come home.

The next morning, as Celeste sat down to breakfast, another message from Viola appeared on her phone.