Chosen Last

CHAPTER FIVE

Her Name

The wedding day arrived quietly. There was no music, no flowers, and no relatives filling the apartment with noise. It was just another cold Shanghai morning.

Xia woke before her alarm and lay staring at the ceiling for several minutes. Her room looked exactly as it always had—the peeling paint near the wardrobe, the stack of books beside her desk, the sweater hanging behind the door. By tomorrow, none of it would belong to her anymore. Not really.

She sat up and listened. Water was running in the kitchen. The television murmured softly in the living room. Someone moved through the apartment in slippers.

The cream-colored dress hung from her wardrobe door. Mei’s dress.

She took it down and slipped into it. The fabric pulled across her shoulders whenever she breathed too deeply. Standing in front of the mirror, she looked at herself for a long moment. There was nothing to adjust and nothing else to wear. The first wedding dress she had ever put on belonged to her sister.

Somehow, that felt fitting.

Her father was already sitting at the table when she stepped out of her room. He glanced up once, his eyes lingering on the dress for barely a second before returning to the cup of tea in front of him.

“The car will be here at nine-thirty,” he said.

Xia nodded and sat down across from him. The television murmured quietly in the background, filling the apartment with noise that neither of them intended to listen to. It occurred to her that this would be the last morning she spent in this apartment, the last time she would sit at this table, the last time she would watch her father drink tea without looking at her properly. She waited for him to say something else, perhaps ask if she had slept, or if she was nervous, or even if she still wanted to go through with this. Instead, he placed his cup down and said, “The debt should be cleared today.”

“I know,” Xia replied quietly.

Her father stood up and reached for his coat. “We should leave.”

The wedding took eleven minutes. Six people stood inside the room: her father, Ethan, Zhang Wei, two witnesses from the Croft side, and Xia.

The registrar spoke through the formalities while Xia stared at the papers lying neatly on the table. Marriage certificate. Identification numbers. Signatures. It was strange to think that something capable of changing an entire life could fit onto a few sheets of paper.

“Miss Liang?”

She lifted her head.

“Please repeat after me.”

She did.

The words felt distant, as though someone else was speaking them through her mouth. When it was Ethan’s turn, his voice sounded exactly as it had in the conference room—calm, measured, and entirely unchanged, as if he were approving a revised contract rather than marrying another person.

She signed first.

Liang Xia.

Then Ethan signed beneath her.

Ethan Croft.

The registrar stamped the certificate and slid it aside.

Eleven minutes.

That was all it took to become someone’s wife. Afterward, Ethan shook her father’s hand. He held it for slightly longer than he had held hers.

Xia noticed.

She wished she hadn’t.

Outside, a black sedan waited by the curb. Ethan entered first and she followed, settling into the seat beside him. The door closed softly behind them and the scent of cedar and leather filled the silence between them. His phone rested face down on the seat, close enough for her to notice but too far away to matter. For several minutes, neither of them spoke.

Then Ethan said, “I’ll explain the arrangement.”

“Separate rooms. Public appearances when required. A schedule will be uploaded at the beginning of each month. Confirmed events won’t change unless necessary. Mrs. Tao oversees the household, and the account access has already been adjusted according to your request.”

Xia watched the city move past the window. The noodle shop near her bus stop disappeared behind them, followed by the convenience store where she bought coffee before early shifts and the intersection where she had once waited in the rain because she couldn’t justify paying for a taxi. Twenty-four years of familiar streets drifted away one by one.

“My name is Xia.”

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Ethan turned slightly toward her.

“You haven’t used it,” she said. “I know what this marriage is, and I know why we’re doing it, but I don’t want to spend the next two years being called ‘you.’”

He looked at her for a moment.

“Xia,” he said.

“Oddly enough, it helped,”she thought

The car slowed as iron gates swung open ahead of them. Bare plane trees lined the driveway, their branches stretching overhead like an archway. At the end stood a house larger than anything Xia had ever imagined living in. She had spent most of her life measuring space by how many people had to share it. This place seemed built for people who preferred not to see each other unless absolutely necessary.

Mrs. Tao was waiting at the entrance.

“Welcome home, Mr. Croft,” she said before turning toward Xia. “Mrs. Croft.”

The title still felt like it belonged to someone else.

Mrs. Tao led them inside. The foyer alone was larger than the apartment Xia had grown up in. Paintings covered the walls, fresh flowers sat on polished tables, and everything seemed expensive enough that she suddenly became aware of how worn the handle of her suitcase felt in her hand.

“Madam is waiting in the sitting room,” Mrs. Tao said.

Ethan nodded and walked into the sitting room. Xia followed a step behind him.

Mrs. Croft was seated by the window with a cup of tea in her hand, sunlight catching the pearls at her neck. She looked up at the sound of footsteps and set the cup down on the table beside her.

She was beautiful in the effortless way wealth allowed people to be. Her hair was pinned neatly at the back of her head, and her blouse looked as though it had never known a crease.

Mrs. Croft looked at her for several seconds.

“You look younger than I expected.”

Xia wasn’t sure whether it was a compliment.

“I’m twenty-four.”

“I see.”

Silence.

“Ethan has always been…particular,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting him to solve his inheritance problem by marrying someone from a background like yours.”

“Ethan.”

His mother’s gaze shifted toward him.

“You disappeared unmarried and returned with a wife. Surely you expected questions.”

“It was necessary.”

Mrs. Croft looked back at Xia.

“I hope you understand this household is adjusting to this arrangement just as much as you are.”

“I understand.” Xia replied.

“I don’t know what promises Ethan made you. But I do know my son. He commits to responsibilities, he is less skilled at committing to people.”

She stood.

Mrs. Tao stepped forward.

“I’ll show Mrs. Croft to her room.”

Before Xia could answer, footsteps sounded from upstairs.

A young woman descended the staircase, one hand trailing lightly along the banister. She couldn’t have been older than twenty-three or twenty-four. She had Ethan’s eyes and the same sharp lines around her mouth, but where Ethan seemed indifferent to other people, she looked at them as if deciding whether they deserved to be acknowledged.

She reached the last step and stopped.

“Ethan,” she said first.

He nodded.

“Chloe.”

Only then did her gaze shift to Xia.

“So this is your wife.”

There was no surprise in her voice. No warmth either.

“Chloe.” Mrs. Croft sighed softly.

“What?” Chloe asked, unbothered. “I’m only looking.”

Her eyes moved over Xia’s borrowed dress, the suitcase beside her feet, and finally settled on her face.

“I expected someone different.”

Xia met her gaze.

“So did I.” Her mother replied.

Chloe’s eyebrows lifted slightly. It was the first expression she’d shown since coming downstairs.

Mrs. Croft stood up.

“You’ve had a long day. Mrs. Tao will take you upstairs.”

Xia nodded.

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Tao picked up her suitcase and led her toward the staircase. Halfway up, Xia looked back.

Mrs. Croft was speaking quietly to Ethan. Chloe had dropped onto the sofa, scrolling through her phone as though she had already lost interest.

Mrs. Tao opened a door at the end of the corridor.“This will be your room, Mrs. Croft.”

The room was larger than the apartment she had grown up in. The windows overlooked a garden she would probably never walk through.

Mrs. Tao set down the suitcase.

“Dinner is at seven. If you need anything, let me know.”

Then she left.

The door closed.

Xia stood alone in the middle of the room. Twenty-four years had taught Liang Xia how to survive being unwanted.

'I am not welcomed here from the looks of those people...'

She hadn’t even finished looking around the room when there was a knock at the door, sharp enough to make her startle.