Scented Claudia

I lost myself in work that day, determined to shut out every thought that wasn't business.

I gathered my notes, adjusted my gloves, and set about mixing new formulations, delicate floral notes, sharp citrus top layers, warm musk at the base.

I worked slowly, methodically, adjusting drop by drop until the balance was perfect.

Hours slipped by in a haze of scent and concentration.

I didn't even realize how long i'd been at it until i glanced at the clock. 9 PM.

My back ached as i finally straightened up.

On the counter in front of me sat four finished samples an elegant, clear glass vials gleaming under the light.

I called Vanessa in. She appeared a minute later, heels clicking, her clipboard in hand.

"Smell these," I ordered, voice low with exhaustion.

She didn't hesitate, lifting each carefully to her nose.

Her eyes went wide. "Oh my god. Miss Claudia, these are incredible. Seriously. They'll sell out the second they launch."

A small, tired smile tugged at my lips. "Good. Get the marketing team in tomorrow. I want proposals on these ASAP."

"Understood."

I peeled off my gloves, massaging my stiff fingers. "That's all for tonight."

She gathered her things quickly. "Heading home?"

"Yeah." I paused, glancing once more at my creations. "It's late."

I let myself in quietly, slipping off my shoes at the door.

But Raphael was waiting for me in the living room.

He stood the moment he saw me, his expression caught somewhere between regret and worry.

"I'm sorry," he blurted. His voice was rough, like he'd been practicing the words for hours. "I overreacted. About the auction. Thank you... for helping those kids."

My chest tightened at the apology.

I wasn't even sure i was angry anymore, just raw, and so damn tired.

I met his eyes, let out a breath i didn't realize i was holding. "It's fine," I mumbled, forcing a small smile.

And i walked straight to my room.

But once the door was shut behind me, my heart was pounding.

Stupid, stupid heart.

I barely managed to peel off my clothes and change into pajamas.

My head felt heavy, throbbing in a dull, persistent way.

I fumbled for the thermometer in my bedside drawer. 38 degrees.

Of course.

No wonder my body felt like lead.

I was pulling the blanket over myself when i heard the soft knock.

"Let's have dinner before you sleep,"

Raphael's voice called through the door.

I couldn't even answer.

My eyes were burning.

My throat felt like sandpaper.

I let my body sink into the mattress.

The knock came again, but softer.

Then silence.

A few minutes later, the door opened gently.

I didn't move.

I felt his hand on my forehead, warm and steady.

"Shit," he breathed, voice cracking with worry. "You have a fever."

I tried to speak but my mouth was too dry.

He didn't wait for an answer.

He moved around the room quickly, propping me up with extra pillows, smoothing the blanket over me.

Then he was gone, and back again in seconds with a damp towel.

"This will help."

His fingers brushed my hair off my face as he laid the cool fabric on my forehead.

"You should've told me," he murmured.

I closed my eyes.

His hand lingered on my cheek for a moment longer.

"Just rest, okay?"

I heard him settle beside the bed.

Felt the slight dip of the mattress.

He didn't leave.

He stayed there, quiet, occasionally checking my temperature, murmuring reassurances in that doctor's voice of his.

And somewhere between his presence and the warmth of the blankets, I finally let go and fell asleep.

—

I woke up late the next morning, my head still heavy but the fever finally broken.

I forced myself up, pushing my tangled hair out of my face.

My throat felt raw, but manageable.

When i walked into the dining area, Raphael was there.

He had his back to me, busy at the stove.

I pulled out a chair slowly, sitting down without a word.

He glanced over his shoulder.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah," I rasped.

"Good." He plated some scrambled eggs and toast and set them in front of me. "Eat. You need it."

I swallowed, trying to find my voice. "Thanks. For last night."

He shrugged, fussing with the pan. "Don't mention it. It's my duty."

I frowned at that word but didn't push it.

"I called Vanessa," he added. "Told her you're sick. You're staying home today."

I sighed, mock-dramatic. "Yes, Doc."

"Good."

I paused, watching his face carefully. "Are you going to work?"

He nodded. "I have to."

Something in me sank a little.

I didn't say anything else.

We ate in silence until he spoke up again.

"I'll be late tonight. There's a reunion with my high school classmates."

I raised an eyebrow, but kept my voice calm. "Okay. Just let me know if you need anything."

He finished his coffee, dropped his mug in the sink, and nodded curtly. "I'll see you tonight."

When he left, the condo fell silent.

I sat there for a long time, fiddling with the edge of the table.

Reunion, huh?

I reached for my phone, quickly tapping out a message to Vanessa.

Find out where Raphael's reunion is tonight.

A few minutes later, she replied with the address.

I snorted.

One of our restaurants.

Perfect.

I called the manager immediately.

"Hi, I want you to take special care of Raphael Gutierrez and his guests tonight. Serve them the best food and wine. Treat them like royalty. It's on the house."

He hesitated. "Ma'am… are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Make sure they think Raphael arranged it himself."

I couldn't just sit and wait for night to fall.

So i cleaned.

Not that there was much to do, Raphael was borderline obsessive about cleanliness, but i found little things.

Dusting the corners.

Rearranging vases.

Fluffing the couch pillows.

At one point, i paused.

My books.

They weren't in the same spot.

My heart stuttered.

Had he seen them?

God.

Books about romance.

About winning your husband back.

About...

I bit my lip, pacing.

I was still spiraling when my phone buzzed.

"Ma'am, they've arrived. We're seating them in VIP now."

I heard someone in the background protesting.

"We didn't reserve VIP."

The manager's voice was smooth. "It's taken care of."

I smirked, settling onto the couch.

"Keep the call open. I want to hear them."

At first, the chatter was polite.

Then i heard it.

"So, Raphael's just a doctor?"

"Yeah, no business? No investments?"

A woman laughed. "How's he affording this dinner? Doctors don't make that much."

My fingers clenched.

Fucking assholes.

I took a deep breath, then spoke clearly.

"Manager. Serve them your most expensive food and wine. Make sure they know exactly who paid."

He swallowed audibly. "Ma'am?"

"Tell them it's from Raphael's wife. Claudia Araneta."

Silence.

Then the delighted gasps.

"Wait, what?"

"Claudia Araneta?"

"The billionaire?"

I heard the manager clear his throat. "Yes. Raphael's wife, Miss Claudia Araneta, is covering your entire meal."

Silence again.

Then the embarrassed, hushed apologies.

I leaned back, satisfied.

But then the manager added awkwardly, "Ma'am… your husband just left."

I ended the call without another word.

I couldn't sit anymore.

I paced the condo, adrenaline making my hands shake.

Who the hell did they think they were?

Doctors save lives. He saves lives.

I was still fuming when the door opened.

Raphael stepped in, looking bone-deep tired.

Before i could speak, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around me.

I froze.

He didn't say anything.

Just held me.

My anger dissolved in an instant.

I swallowed hard. "Are you okay?"

"Just exhausted," he mumbled into my hair.

My throat tightened painfully.

"Do you want to eat?"

He shook his head. "I just want to sleep. Stay for a while?"

I nodded, leading him to the bedroom.

He collapsed onto the bed, dragging me down with him.

I stayed propped on one elbow, brushing his hair off his forehead as his breathing evened out.

Watching him sleep felt like being punched in the chest.

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes.

I hate them. Those friends. They don't know you at all.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"I love you," I whispered, so quietly i hoped he didn't hear.

He let out a sleepy hum, nuzzling closer.

I smiled sadly.

"They don't know how lucky they'd be to have you."

I stayed there until i was sure he was asleep, memorizing every line of his face, every soft exhale.

Then i slipped out quietly, going back to my own room.

I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, plans and anger swirling in my mind.

I could ruin them. Those arrogant bastards.

My fingers hovered over my phone.

But i stopped.

Raphael wouldn't want that.

He didn't care what people thought.

He wouldn't want revenge.

With a frustrated sigh, I set the phone aside.

Instead, I picked up a book and forced myself to read, letting the words blur until my eyelids grew heavy.

When i finally drifted off, my dreams were of him, Raphael standing at the edge of some impossible distance, watching me with eyes i couldn't read.