Until You Choose Me

Chapter Twenty: Mrs. Cinderella

Clara was halfway through organizing her notes when the doorbell rang.

She paused, frowned, and checked the time on her phone. It was barely ten in the morning. She wasn’t expecting anyone. The staff usually announced visitors, but this time, the sound echoed through the hallway without warning.

A few seconds later, there was a polite knock on her door.

“Yes?” Clara called.

The door opened slowly, and one of the house staff peeked in. “Mrs. Cole, there are… guests for you.”

“Guests?” Clara repeated. “What kind of guests?”

Before the staff could answer, three people walked in behind her.

Clara blinked.

A woman in sleek black clothes stepped forward first, smiling brightly. “Good morning, Mrs. Cole. I’m Victoria, your makeup artist.”

Another woman followed, carrying several cases. “Hi, I’m Rina. Hair stylist.”

Behind them was a tall man wheeling a garment rack packed with dresses wrapped in protective covers. “Lorenze,” he said with a small bow. “Designer.”

Clara stood up so fast her chair scraped the floor. “I’m sorry—what?”

Victoria clapped her hands softly. “We’re here to prepare you for the Cole Industries anniversary party.”

Clara stared at them. “Today?”

“No, no,” Rina said quickly. “The event is the day after tomorrow. Today is just for fitting, planning, and tests.”

Clara pressed her lips together. “I didn’t agree to this.”

Lorenze gestured to the rack. “Mr. Cole arranged everything.”

Of course he did.

“Please excuse me,” Clara said, already reaching for her phone. “I need to make a call.”

She stepped out of the room, dialing Ethan as she walked down the hall. He picked up on the second ring.

“Clara,” Ethan said. “Is everything alright?”

“You sent an entire team into my room,” she said flatly.

There was a brief pause. “They arrived already?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Makeup artist. Hairstylist. Designer. A lot of dresses.”

“Good,” Ethan said calmly. “That means they’re on schedule.”

“Ethan,” Clara said, lowering her voice, “you didn’t tell me about this.”

“I planned to,” he replied. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

She let out a short laugh. “You thought this wouldn’t overwhelm me?”

“I thought it would be easier if the logistics were handled,” he said. “The anniversary party is important. The press will be there.”

“I already agreed to attend,” Clara said. “Not to be ambushed.”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said sincerely. “I should have told you. But yes, this is part of preparing for the event.”

She leaned against the wall. “So I don’t really have a choice.”

“You agreed to accompany me to company events,” he said gently. “But you still have control. If you don’t like anything, we change it.”

Clara closed her eyes for a moment. She had agreed. She had known this would happen eventually.

“Fine,” she said. “But I’m setting boundaries.”

“Of course,” Ethan replied. “Whatever you need.”

“And Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“Next time, warn me.”

A pause. “I will.”

She hung up and walked back into the room.

All three of them looked at her expectantly.

“Alright,” Clara said, exhaling. “Let’s get this over with.”

Victoria smiled. “We promise to make it painless.”

“I doubt that,” Clara muttered.

They started with makeup tests. Clara sat in front of a mirror while Victoria examined her face carefully.

“You have great skin,” she said. “We’ll keep it natural.”

“Please do,” Clara replied. “I don’t want to look like someone else.

“Understood,” Victoria said. “Elegant, not dramatic.”

Rina began lightly touching Clara’s hair. “Do you usually wear it down or up?”

“Down,” Clara said. “Or tied back when I’m working.”

“For the event, maybe something in between,” Rina suggested. “Soft. Polished.”

“As long as it doesn’t feel heavy,” Clara said.

Lorenze cleared his throat. “Shall we talk about the dresses?”

Clara glanced at the garment rack. “That’s a lot of gowns.”

“Yes,” he said proudly. “Custom pieces. High-end. All approved by Mr. Cole.”

She sighed. “Of course they are.”

Lorenze pulled the first one out. “This is a champagne silk gown. Simple cut. Very graceful.”

Clara shook her head immediately. “No silk. It wrinkles easily.”

Lorenze blinked. “Ah. Practical.”

“Very,” she said.

He pulled another. “Midnight blue. Structured, but comfortable.”

She studied it. “Maybe.”

They went through several options. Some were too flashy. Others too tight. One had a slit she refused to even try.

“I need to breathe,” Clara said at one point.

Lorenze nodded. “Understood.”

Finally, they found three gowns she didn’t hate.

“Try this one first,” Lorenze said, handing her a deep emerald dress.

Clara went behind the screen and changed. When she stepped out, the room went quiet.

Rina smiled. “That one suits you.”

Victoria nodded. “It’s strong. Clean.”

Clara looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was elegant without being loud. It fit well, moved easily.

“It’s… fine,” she said.

Lorenze grinned. “High praise.”

They marked adjustments and moved on.

By the time they finished, Clara felt drained. She collapsed onto the sofa as the team packed up.

“We’ll come back tomorrow for final touches,” Victoria said.

“Tomorrow?” Clara echoed.

“Yes,” Rina said cheerfully. “Just a short session.”

Clara nodded weakly. “Alright.”

After they left, the room felt too quiet again.

She sat there for a moment, then picked up her phone and messaged Ethan.

They’re gone. I survived.

A reply came quickly.

Thank you for going along with it.

She typed back.

Next time, I want a calendar invite.

Deal. Ethan responded in return.

Clara smiled despite herself.

She stood and looked at the mirror one last time. The reflection staring back at her didn’t look like the Clara who used to rush between foundation meetings and budget reviews.

She looked like Mrs. Ethan Cole.

With a sigh, she turned away. She can't do anything because had agreed to this role.

And for now, she would go with the flow...

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The mansion was unusually quiet for a house preparing for a major event.

Clara stood in front of the full-length mirror as the final touches were made. Victoria leaned in slightly, fixing the last detail around Clara’s eyes, while Rina adjusted a loose strand of hair near her shoulder.

“Alright,” Victoria said, stepping back. “That’s it.”

Clara blinked a few times, then looked at her reflection.

She barely recognized herself.

Her makeup was simple but refined. Nothing heavy, nothing dramatic. Just enough to make her look polished. Her hair was styled neatly, soft waves falling naturally down her back. The emerald gown hugged her figure without feeling tight, elegant without being loud.

She let out a slow breath. “I look… presentable.”

Rina laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

“You look beautiful,” Victoria corrected gently.

Clara met her eyes in the mirror. “Thank you.”

Lorenze stepped forward, fixing the fall of the dress near her waist. “The fit is perfect. You’ll move easily.”

“That’s important,” Clara said. “I don’t plan on standing still all night.”

Lorenze smiled. “Mr. Cole is waiting downstairs.”

Clara nodded. “Alright.”

The team packed up quietly, offering quick goodbyes and encouragement. When they left, Clara was alone again.

She placed her hands on the edge of the dresser and took a breath.

“It’s just a party,” she told herself. “Just one night.”

She opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

The staircase felt longer than usual. As she descended slowly, the soft sound of her heels echoed through the space.

Ethan was standing in the living room near the bottom of the stairs. He had already changed into a tailored black suit, crisp and sharp, as always. He was checking his watch when he heard footsteps.

He looked up, but he didn't dare to move, as he almost forgot how to breathe.

His eyes followed her, slowly, like he was afraid she might disappear if he blinked.

She reached the bottom step and cleared her throat lightly. “Ethan?”

He didn’t answer.

“Ethan,” she repeated, a bit louder. “Are you alright?”

That seemed to break whatever spell he was under.

“Yes,” he said quickly. Then paused. “I mean—yes. I’m fine.”

Clara raised an eyebrow. “You’re staring.”

He exhaled, clearly trying to compose himself. “I know. I’m sorry.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he said immediately. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Then he looked at her again, openly this time, no attempt to hide it.

“You look incredible,” Ethan said honestly.

Clara blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“That’s not what I was expecting you to say,” she admitted.

“I know,” he replied. “But it’s true.”

She shifted her weight slightly. “It’s just a dress.”

“It’s not,” he said. “It’s you.”

She hesitated, then smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Ethan swallowed. “They did a great job.”

“They did,” Clara agreed. “You should thank them, not me.”

He smiled faintly. “I’ll thank everyone involved.”

They stood there for a moment, an awkward pause hanging between them.

Clara broke it first. “What time is it?”

Ethan glanced at his watch. “We should leave in ten minutes.”

She nodded. “Then we should go. If we’re late, the headlines will be worse than if I trip on the carpet.”

Ethan chuckled quietly. “You won’t trip.”

“You don’t know that,” she replied. “These shoes are dangerous.”

He stepped closer instinctively, then stopped himself, remembering their agreement. Instead, he offered his arm, keeping a respectful distance.

“May I?” he asked.

She looked at his arm, then nodded. “Yes.”

They walked toward the door together.

The car was already waiting outside. As they stepped out, flashes of light exploded immediately.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cole!”

“Mrs. Cole, over here!”

Clara stiffened slightly but kept her expression calm.

Ethan leaned closer, his voice low. “Just hold my arm. We’ll go straight inside.”

“I know,” she replied quietly. “I’ve handled worse.”

He glanced at her. “I don’t doubt that.”

Inside the venue, the noise doubled. The anniversary party was already in full swing. The ballroom was filled with executives, investors, partners, and employees, all dressed in formal attire.

The moment Ethan and Clara entered, heads turned.

Whispers followed.

“That’s her.”

“She’s stunning.”

“They look good together.”

Clara kept her posture straight, her expression composed.

Ethan leaned toward her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said calmly. “Just a lot of eyes.”

“They’ll get used to it,” he replied.

She glanced at him. “I hope so.”

They were quickly approached by board members and executives.

“Ethan,” one of them said, shaking his hand. “And this must be Clara.”

“Yes,” Ethan said proudly. “My wife.”

Clara offered a polite smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“The foundation must be proud,” the man said.

“They are,” Clara replied evenly. “And busy.”

Ethan smiled slightly at that.

As the night went on, they moved together through the room. Ethan introduced her to people she’d only heard about in business articles. Clara responded with grace, keeping her answers brief but intelligent.

At one point, they stepped aside near the balcony for a moment of quiet.

“You’re doing well,” Ethan said.

“So are you,” Clara replied. “You don’t look nervous at all.”

“I wasn’t,” he said. “Until you walked down the stairs earlier.”

She looked at him. “Why?”

He hesitated. “Because I realized how much attention you would get.”

She laughed softly. “That was unavoidable.”

“I know,” he said. “But still.”

She studied him for a moment. “You really were at a loss for words.”

He smiled sheepishly. “I was.”

“Well,” she said lightly, “you recovered.”

“Barely.”

She smiled again, then glanced toward the ballroom. “We should go back. People are watching.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Let’s not give them ideas.”

As they walked back in, Ethan glanced at her once more.

“I meant what I said,” he added quietly. “You look incredible.”

Clara didn’t answer right away.

Then she said softly, “Thank you, Ethan.”

And together, they stepped back into the crowd—on time, composed, and ready to face the night.