His Perfumes Had No Me, He Begged

Chapter 3

That afternoon, I went backstage at the launch after all.

Caleb took me to the warehouse and told me something was wrong with the final production batch of Chloe. I was the only person who could pinpoint the problem.

The warehouse held 3,000 bottles waiting to be shipped. It was the largest order the studio had ever received.

I had been beside Matthew since he blended his first perfume in a basement. I couldn't bear to see 10 years of work end in a production disaster.

Caleb handed me three scent blotters one at a time.

I smelled the first, then picked up the second. I couldn't detect any difference.

"Spray it again."

Caleb hesitated. "Mr. Reid said you weren't allowed any additional exposure today."

"Spray it."

A fine mist settled over the paper. I brought it close to my nose and caught only a faint sweetness, distant and indistinct, like rain beyond a pane of thick glass.

I tried the third blotter, but I still couldn't distinguish the white plum blossom from the cedarwood.

Caleb's expression changed.

"Grace, you can't smell them, can you?"

Before I could answer, the glass door behind me opened.

Matthew strode in and snatched the blotter from my hand.

"Who gave you permission to come into the warehouse?"

He didn't raise his voice, but no one in the lab dared to move.

Caleb tried to explain, but Matthew had already shut down the scent-delivery system and pulled open the collar of my protective suit.

"Grace, look at me."

I raised my head.

He pressed his fingers to the side of my neck and counted my pulse for 10 seconds. Then he lifted me into his arms.

"I can walk."

"Close your eyes."

He covered my nose and mouth with his coat and carried me through the hall.

The backstage area was packed with brand representatives and reporters. Melissa hurried after us.

"Mr. Reid, the livestream starts in 40 minutes. Ms. Parker is already here."

"Stop all scent diffusion and clear the lounge."

"But the entire livestream plan has already been finalized."

Matthew didn't slow down.

"If anything happens to her here, you can throw the whole plan out."

He took me to the hospital.

For the first time, he ignored Melissa's calls as he waited outside the examination room.

The doctor placed a new set of test results on the desk.

"For the past 10 years, she has inhaled highly concentrated ingredients at close range almost every day. Her exposure exceeded safe limits a long time ago. Her right olfactory nerve barely responds now, and the left is deteriorating too. At her last appointment, I told her to stop all fragrance testing immediately."

Matthew looked at me.

"When was her last appointment?"

"It was 12 days ago."

His grip tightened around the report.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I looked at the spot of gardenia perfume on his cuff.

"What would you have done if I had?"

The examination room fell silent except for the hum of the air conditioner.

Matthew bent down, took my bag, and threw every sample vial inside it into the medical waste bin.

"Starting today, you won't test another fragrance. I'll convert the top floor into a fragrance-free lab and bring in a neurology team from Varelia."

He crouched, picked up my fallen shoe, and slipped it back onto my foot. His fingers trembled slightly as he tied the laces.

"Grace, I won't let you lose your sense of smell."

A phone rang outside the room. This time, it was Caleb.

Matthew answered, and his face grew grimmer with every word.

The gardenia note recreated from my skin-response data had changed during bottling. The replicated drydown no longer matched the archived reference data.

Not one of the 3,000 bottles of Chloe met the approved standard.

When Caleb finished, the line went quiet.

Matthew looked at my left wrist. A small patch of skin there had never been sprayed.

I hid my hand behind my back.

He looked away. A long time passed before he spoke.

"We need to do this one last time. We'll run a low-concentration comparison test for 10 minutes, and I'll stay with you the entire time."

The doctor's face hardened immediately.

"Any exposure at all could worsen the damage now."

Matthew didn't argue. He only looked at me.

He had once chosen my engagement ring and stayed awake beside me through nights of fever. Now he was weighing 3,000 bottles of perfume against 10 minutes of exposure.

"Grace, we can't let the perfume fail now, not when we're this close."

I slowly removed my engagement ring. It left a pale band around the base of my finger.

"After I do this, will you read my termination letter?"

His gaze fell to the ring.

"Get well first. We'll discuss everything else at home."

I closed my fingers around the ring.

"All right."

His shoulders relaxed. He stood and went to discuss protective measures with the doctor.

I took out my phone and sent Caleb a message.

Grace: Carry out the revocation I signed last night. Destroy every original scent sample created from my skin-response data before midnight.