Page 40 of Never Enough

Alex’s voice, a thin thread of impatience laced with forced politeness, snaps, “What are you doing, Celeste?” Even his kindness has limits.

She collapses onto the plush leather seat, her sobs hitching in her throat. “My parents don’t know we’ve broken up yet. Please, can I pretend we’re still together?”

There’s a moment where everyone’s breath catches, all for different reasons. Mine because I’m painfully reminded that there’s three people in my relationship.

Celeste clutches his arm. “Please, Alex,” she whispers. “They expect you to bring me this weekend.”

I watch him struggle, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he grapples with the decision. He’s always had a soft spot for theatrics; perhaps because he’s a master at his own performance. And there’s Celeste, embodying the damsel in distress, begging for one last act.

“All right,” he says after an eternity, the word heavy with unspoken conditions. I understand then that kindness is both his shield and his weakness.

“Thank you,” she breathes out, relief flooding her features. But the gratitude doesn’t reach her eyes. Instead, they’re calculating and predatory. She’s won this round, and she knows it. Unfortunately, I’m not sure if Alex does.

As the limo pulls back onto the road, Celeste leans closer to Alex, her fingers brushing his knee. He shifts, ever so slightly, placing distance between them.

The phone in my clutch vibrates, and I sneak a glance at the screen. It’s from Alex.

Half of my soul *heart emoji*

I’m sorry. I’ll makeit up to you.

At this point, I’m still holding on. Alex’s kindness is one of the reasons why I love him. I mean, yeah, I’m upset right now, but how can I fault him for being nice to his ex? He choseme. Pickedme. If anything, it shows his character in how he can have a friendly relationship after a breakup when so many other men shit talk and villainize their exes.

This is just the beginning of a long, tumultuous weekend. In the end, the heart wants what it wants, and mine is foolishly, irrevocably entangled with Alexandru Whitmore.

The limousine’s interior is suddenly a stage, the dim lighting casting shadows that seem to accentuate every line of tension on Alex’s face. He turns to me, his brown eyes searching mine for an answer he doesn’t want to give. I see the plea there, the silent hope that I’ll be okay with this charade. But my heart clenches, heavy with a brew of betrayal and sorrow.

“Absolutely not,” Alex’s voice is resolute, but his gaze never leaves mine. It holds an apology, a promise that he’s mine, even as Celeste’s pleading threatens to wedge itself between us.

Celeste’s lip quivers, her usually immaculate lipstick now a testament to her desperation. “But my sister just got engaged,” she implores, her voice threaded with a vulnerability that doesn’t quite reach her calculating eyes. “Before we broke up, I told my parents everything was perfect between us.” The way she lays out herdistress, it’s meant to manipulate, to draw us into her narrative where she remains the star.

“Your parents?” Alex asks, but there’s an undertone of unease now. “Mine don’t know either, Celeste. We agreed.”

“Exactly!” She pounces on his words, leaning forward eagerly. “We can tell them after the weekend. Please, Alex, they can’t find out like this. Not yet.”

Her hand finds his arm, and I watch the muscles beneath his shirt tense. His glance flickers back to me, silently asking for strength, forgiveness, and maybe permission. I’m caught in the middle of love and loyalty, each emotion a blade twisting in my gut.

It’s a long ride to the mansion, and with each passing mile, the limo shrinks around us. The weight of Celeste’s presence is suffocating.

I try to banish the insecurities bubbling to the surface, but it’s difficult when our own relationship shrouds in secrecy.

Voice a serpent’s hiss, Victoria joins in. “Alex, don’t be cruel. Think of Granny.” Her brown eyes, so like Alex’s but void of warmth, fixate on him with an intensity that brooks no argument.

“Granny’s going to the cookout,” Celeste adds between sniffles, her performance Oscar-worthy. “She doesn’t have long left. I want—no, I need—her last memories of me to be happy ones.With you.” Her lip quivers. “After she leaves for the weekend, I’ll tell them we’ve broken up. Just please don’t let Granny know.”

My chest tightens at the mention of her grandmother. Death is something I understand all too well. The finality, the longing for just one more moment of happiness.

Conflict etches in the deep crease between Alex’s brows.

Watching his sympathy, I remind myself that he cares aboutme.He choseme.It doesn’t matter that they once cuddled in a blanket on a hill. Even if it had been a mountain touching the heavens, what matters right now is that he and I are together.

Pretending for one more weekend will not change how he picked me.

Besides, for all I know, Celeste’s granny is a lovely person who only wants to see her granddaughter happy one last time. Even if Celeste doesn’t deserve it, I’ll give her grandma that gift.

He hesitates, and in that fraction of a second, I find the courage to offer him a subtle nod. It’s okay. I trust him.

“Fine,” he says at last, his voice a low rumble of defeat. “But you have to promise to behave. We’re not giving anyone false hope.”

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