Tonight was the family dinner with Raphael's family. I had to look perfect, but not "paparazzi-perfect." Just good enough for the people who mattered tonight.
I chose a sleek, white fitted dress with a subtle side slit: elegant, sophisticated, but not attention-hungry. My hair fell in soft waves, styled like I didn't spend two hours on it, and my makeup was a careful exercise in restraint: luminous skin, subtle contour, soft lips.
I'm an A-list actress. Even in private, I couldn't afford to look messy.
Because while this is supposed to be a private dinner? One nosy member, one leaked photo, one careless member, that's all it took to make national news.
Our marriage should be a secret. It had to stay that way.
I took a deep breath as Raphael texted he was close.
Butterflies.
Ridiculous.
Their car pulled up at the front gate.
I smoothed my dress and stepped out with my best diplomatic smile.
When Raphael's family climbed out, they just... froze.
His mother's eyes went wide. His dad's jaw actually dropped. His sister, Viviena, nearly fumbled her phone.
They weren't expecting me.
Of course they weren't. I wasn't just some girlfriend. I was Claudia Anastasia Araneta.
The country's sweetheart. The face of half its brands. The woman gossip sites paired with every leading man I worked with.
I gave them a perfectly calibrated, gentle smile.
"Come in!" I said warmly, stepping aside.
Raphael's gaze flicked over me, lingering with something like pride or amusement.
Good. Play your part, Doctor.
Inside, my family was waiting, seated around the long dining table in our formal dining room.
My father glanced up, expression calm but assessing. My mother beamed immediately, ever the socialite host. Samuel sat at the end of the table, half-bored already.
I led Raphael's family to their seats like a practiced event coordinator.
During dinner, Raphael was on his best behavior always serving food onto my plate, pulling my chair closer, resting his arm behind mine on the backrest like it was second nature.
My mother saw it and tried to hide her smile behind her wine glass.
Good. They were buying it.
Halfway through the meal, my father set his fork down with that deliberate silence only he could pull off.
"So," he said, voice deep and even. "When is the wedding?"
I didn't blink.
"Next month," I said smoothly. "In California. Private ceremony. Just family."
My mom frowned slightly. "Not here? In the Philippines?"
I kept my tone bright but firm.
"We want it quiet. Special. Somewhere no one can bother us. You know how... people can be."
Raphael's dad cleared his throat. "California is... far."
Raphael jumped in immediately, his voice calm, almost professional.
"We want a fresh start," he said. "No press. No drama. Just the people who matter."
My father nodded slowly. "As long as you take care of my daughter."
Raphael didn't hesitate. He reached for my hand under the table and squeezed lightly.
"I will, sir. That's my promise."
His mother actually wiped at her eyes. "My boy... getting married. I never thought I'd see the day."
My mom laughed. "Claudia's been so picky. We're just glad she finally brought someone home."
"Well," Raphael said lightly, shooting me a teasing look, "here i am."
Viviena raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Pretty sure Claudia's the boss in this relationship."
I lifted my glass in a mock toast. "Obviously."
Raphael sighed, playing along.
Samuel snorted from the end of the table. "At least she's not marrying one of those guys they keep linking her with in the tabloids."
I shot him a glare.
"Shut up."
After dinner, everyone moved to the lounge to sip wine and trade polite family gossip.
Raphael and I sat on the far corridor for a breather.
"You're really committed to this act," he murmured, swirling his drink.
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm an actress. It's literally my job."
He smirked. "You enjoy it, though."
"Maybe." I nudged his leg lightly with mine. "Admit it, you're getting better at it too."
He shook his head, but he was smiling.
Eventually, they stood to go. I insisted on walking them out.
After much arguing behind closed doors, Raphael and I agreed:
A small, quiet, family-only wedding.
No public invites. No media. Not even my manager knew this.
We had to keep it that way.
Because one leaked photo, one careless social post, one excited family sharing too much and the entire country would know.
My image was worth millions. Contracts, endorsements, movie roles.
And they all depended on me staying single.
At least officially.
—
I texted Raphael to get ready.
I'm going to pick him up and drop him at the hospital before going to my own office.
Not for show.
Just because... I wanted to.
When he got in the car, he looked tired but handsome in his doctor's coat.
"You don't have to keep doing this," he muttered.
I shrugged. "I want to."
He sighed."At least don't use the sports car. We're trying not to be obvious."
I smirked. "Yes, Doc."
I felt annoyingly giddy just listening to him lecture me.
When we arrived, I watched him walk into the hospital.
I stayed there a second too long, smiling like an idiot.
Then i caught myself, cursed softly, and drove to my office before anyone could see.