Viola’s face flushed, then went pale at the words.
Who was she calling a kept woman?
Who was she calling useless?
Grinding her teeth, Viola snapped, “Philip would never think that! Celeste, if you want to play the other woman, fine, but don’t you dare try to come between me and Philip-”
“If your love is really unbreakable, what difference would my words make?” Celeste’s laugh was cold, dismissive–she couldn’t care less about either of them.
“Celeste, how can you say that about me? Or is it that you feel guilty for being the mistress-”
“Enough!”
Philip suddenly cut her off, his voice sharp. “Mistress this, mistress that–do you think that’s something worth repeating over and over?”
He couldn’t stand to hear Celeste called that, not from anyone.
Viola’s tears spilled instantly at his outburst. “Philip, you–you’re shouting at me?”
Celeste watched with a trace of amusement.
Incredible. Philip actually losing his temper at Viola?
Philip came to his senses just then, realizing how harsh he’d been. He hurried over to her. “Viola, I didn’t mean-
“So you really hate me that much, Philip?”
“That’s not what I-”
“If I’m such a burden, I’ll stop troubling you. I’ll leave tomorrow!”
She dissolved into sobs, and Philip, flustered, tried to comfort her.
Celeste looked on at their little drama, feeling nothing at all. She picked up her mother’s memorial plaque and the porcelain urn, then climbed into the car. “Take me to the house,” she instructed the driver. “I want to put my mother’s things together.”
The family chapel had burned down.
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Her mother’s memory deserved a proper resting place.
With that, she urged the driver on, not sparing Philip or Viola another look as she left them behind.
The drive to the house was quiet.
Inside, Celeste calmly placed her mother’s memorial and the porcelain together, then asked a housekeeper to look after them. Only then did she let the driver go,
After dismissing the rest of the staff, she wanted a moment alone in the empty house.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
Celeste’s eyes snapped open.
She peered through the peephole–and to her surprise, found Viola standing outside.
Celeste opened the door without hesitation.
“Ah!”
Viola, who had been trying to punch in the security code, jumped in fright.
Celeste leaned lazily against the doorframe, clearly enjoying Viola’s startled expression.
“How’d you find me here?”
On the doorstep, Viola tried to recover her composure, but her heart was still pounding and the malice in her eyes was unmistakable.
“It’s not exactly hard to find you,” she said, straightening up.
“Breaking and entering, Viola? What exactly do you want?” Celeste blocked the doorway, eyeing her like she was some ridiculous clown.
“What did you do to Philip? He chased after you all the way to the Duncan Memorial Chapel, even knowing what you are! If you really don’t want him, why can’t you stay away and let us be?”
Celeste sighed inwardly.
She’d done everything she could to cut things off with Philip.
He was the one who’d flown across the country to find her; he was the one who’d used work as an excuse to propose; even earlier, he was the one who tried to make
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her give up her mother’s memorial.
For thirteen years Philip had haunted her life.
Even now, with Viola by his side, he still wouldn’t let her go.
If anyone had a right to be exasperated, it was Celeste.
And now Viola was here, blaming her for it all.
Celeste let out a cold laugh.
“If you’re so capable, why don’t you keep him in line? Or do you like letting him chase after other women?”
