Until You Choose Me

Chapter Sixteen: Fitting Into the Future

A month have passed...

“Ms. Monroe, this way, please.”

Clara followed the assistant into the bridal studio, her steps slowing as mirrors stretched across the walls. Racks of gowns stood like quiet witnesses. Every fabric shimmered under warm lights.

May leaned close and whispered, “This place looks like a palace for dresses.”

Clara let out a small breath. “It feels like I walked into another life.”

Across the room, Ethan spoke softly into his phone. “Cancel the Zurich flight. Move the board call to Thursday. Yes—clear tomorrow afternoon too.”

He ended the call and walked over. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Clara said. “I just didn’t expect it to feel… this real.”

The wedding planner approached with a tablet. “We’ll start with fittings today, then venue walkthrough, then a quick meeting about guest arrangements.”

Clara blinked. “All of that? Today?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ethan said calmly, “We can slow it down if it’s too much.”

The planner paused. “Of course. We’ll follow Miss Monroe’s pace.”

Clara gave a small nod. “Let’s start with the fitting.”

Inside the changing room, an attendant held up a gown. “This is one of our signature pieces.”

Clara touched the fabric. “It’s beautiful. But… it feels like something someone else would wear.”

May peeked in. “You don’t have to become a stranger just because you’re getting married.”

Clara smiled faintly. “I’m trying to remember that.”

There was a gentle knock. “Clara?” Ethan’s voice.

“Yes?”

“Do you need anything?”

She hesitated. “Just… a minute.”

“Take all the time you want.”

Outside, the planner whispered, “He’s very attentive.”

May muttered, “You have no idea.”

When Clara stepped out in a simpler gown, Ethan looked up.

“That one,” he said quietly.

“You like it?”

“I like you in it. It still looks like you.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “That’s what I want. To still be me.”

The planner clapped softly. “Wonderful choice.”

As the seamstress adjusted the hem, Clara asked, “Who’s on the guest list from the foundation?”

The planner scrolled. “We had not included them in the main hall.”

Clara frowned. “They’re family to me. They belong there.”

Ethan immediately said, “Then they’ll be there.”

The planner nodded. “We’ll revise.”

Clara looked at him. “You didn’t even think about it.”

“I didn’t need to,” Ethan replied. “It matters to you. That’s enough.”

Later, on the rooftop venue, the planner gestured around. “We imagine dramatic lighting here, cameras positioned—”

Clara interrupted gently. “Can we make this less… like a show?”

The planner hesitated. “Less grand?”

“More human,” Clara said.

Ethan added, “This isn’t a press event. It’s our wedding.”

Clara glanced at him, surprised.

He shrugged. “Even if the world is watching, it should still feel like yours.”

==========================================

In the car afterward, Clara watched the city blur past.

“You changed your schedule for this,” she said.

“I moved things.”

“You canceled Zurich.”

“I can go another time.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Ethan said. “You shouldn’t feel rushed because of me.”

She folded her hands. “I’m scared I’ll disappear into this role.”

He turned toward her. “Then don’t.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“No,” he agreed. “But I won’t let you vanish.”

She studied him. “You talk like this is already a partnership.”

“It is,” he said. “Even if it’s business first.”

Back at her apartment, Clara kicked off her shoes.

“It’s everywhere,” she said, gesturing at brochures. “My life turned into schedules overnight.”

Ethan stood by the door. “Tomorrow is lighter. I made sure.”

“You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Making room for me.”

“That’s what partners do.”

She hesitated. “Even in a contract marriage?”

He met her eyes. “Especially in one.”

That night, Clara stood before her mirror.

“Clara Monroe,” she whispered.

Then, softly, “Clara Cole.”

The name felt heavy and unfamiliar.

Her phone rang, and it was none other than Ethan.

“I canceled Singapore,” he said.

She laughed quietly. “You’re serious about this.”

“I’m serious about you.”

She closed her eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not turning me into a project.”

“You’re not a project,” he said. “You’re a person.”

==================================================

The next day...

Clara woke to the sound of her phone vibrating against the nightstand.

She groaned softly and reached for it. Messages stacked across the screen—alerts, headlines, social tags.

ENGAGEMENT FEVER: ETHAN COLE’S MYSTERY FIANCÉE.

WHO IS CLARA MONROE?

INSIDE THE WOMAN WHO CAPTURED A BILLIONAIRE’S HEART.

She let the phone fall back onto the bed.

“So this is my life now,” she muttered.

A knock came from the door.

“Clara?” it was Lena's voice. “You alive in there?”

“Barely.”

Lena entered with coffee. “You’re trending.”

Clara pulled the blanket over her head. “I didn’t ask to be interesting.”

“You’re marrying a man who could buy a country. Interesting comes with the package.”

Clara peeked out. “Does it ever stop?”

Lena shrugged. “It slows. But only if you build walls.”

=========================================

18UNTIL

The Fairytale Wedding of the Century

The hotel’s top floor buzzed like a control room before a major launch. Stylists moved in careful patterns. Assistants whispered into headsets. A wedding coordinator held a clipboard like it was a shield.

Clara stood in front of the mirror, hands clasped at her waist. The dress was simple and elegant, not the kind that swallowed her whole. It felt deliberate, like a choice instead of a costume.

“Don’t move,” the stylist said. “Just one more pin.”

Clara let out a slow breath. “I feel like I’m about to walk into a press conference, not a wedding.”

Her assistant and best friend, Lena, smiled softly. “It’s both. But today, it’s yours first.”

Clara met her own eyes in the mirror. She looked like someone else—composed, polished, ready. But beneath that, she was still herself. Still the woman who had said yes out of necessity, not romance.

Her phone started ringing, and Lena picked it up.

“It’s Mr. Cole.” she informs Clara.

Clara hesitated, then nodded. “Put him on speaker.”

Ethan’s voice filled the room. “Are you holding up?”

“I’m standing,” Clara said. “That counts as holding up, right?”

He laughed quietly. “It does. I wanted to check in. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I know,” she said. “That hasn’t changed.”

“Good. Because I meant it. Even now.”

She swallowed. “How are you?”

“Being told to stop pacing,” he replied. “My mother says I’m going to wear a hole in the floor."

Clara smiled despite herself. “Tell her it’s better than fainting.”

“I already tried that. She disagreed.”

There was a pause.

“I’ll see you soon,” Ethan said.

“Yes,” she answered. “Soon.”

When the call ended, Lena touched Clara's arm. “He sounds steady.”

“He always is,” Clara said. “It makes everything harder.”

“Or easier,” Lena offered.

Clara didn’t respond.

Downstairs, cameras lined the entrance. Fans stood behind barricades. News vans crowded the street. Every major outlet had sent a team.

“Fairytale Wedding of the Century,” a reporter said into her microphone. “Billionaire tech titan Ethan Cole is marrying cultural preservation leader Clara Monroe in what many are calling the most anticipated union of the decade.”

Inside, Ethan adjusted his cufflinks.

“You’re calm,” his father, Richard Cole, observed.

“I’m focused,” Ethan replied.

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It is for me.”

His mother, Evelyn Cole, approached. “You don’t have to carry this like a burden.”

“I’m not,” Ethan said. “I’m choosing it.”

She studied him. “You care about her.”

“Yes.”

“That’s good,” Evelyn said gently. “Just remember she’s not part of a strategy.”

“I know,” he said. “She’s a person. I won’t forget.”

The music began.

Clara stood at the entrance, bouquet in hand. Her father stepped beside her.

“You don’t have to go through with this,” he said quietly.

“I do,” she replied. “Not because I’m trapped. Because I chose it.”

He searched her face. “Are you afraid?”

“Yes,” Clara said honestly. “But I’m also… hopeful.”

“That’s enough,” he said. “That’s more than enough.”

The doors opened, and the room instantly fell silent.

Ethan looked up, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. The cameras, the guests and the noise outside. All he saw was Clara walking toward him.

She didn’t smile for the crowd. She didn’t pose. She walked like someone stepping into a promise she didn’t fully understand.

When she reached him, he whispered, “You look like yourself.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said today,” she replied.

The officiant began.

“Do you, Ethan Cole, take Clara Monroe—”

“I do,” Ethan said without hesitation.

Clara turned to him, surprised.

The officiant cleared his throat. “We usually wait—”

“I know,” Ethan said calmly. “I just didn’t want there to be doubt.”

A ripple of laughter passed through the room.

The officiant smiled. “Very well. And do you, Clara Monroe, take Ethan Cole—”

Clara paused.

The room held its breath.

“I do,” she said. “With honesty. With boundaries. And with the intent to grow.”

Ethan met her gaze. “That’s all I ask.”

They exchanged rings.

“Not too tight,” Clara whispered.

“Give it time,” he replied. “I’ll earn the right.”

She almost laughed.

Outside, the announcement exploded across screens.

They kissed, just a quick and simple one.

Applause filled the room.

Later, in a private suite, Clara sat on the edge of the sofa, heels discarded.

“That was overwhelming,” she said.

Ethan poured water into two glasses. “You did well.”

“So did you.”

“I meant what I said,” he told her. “Nothing changes because of the cameras. You still lead your life. Your work. I won’t own you.”

She took the glass. “You don’t have to keep saying it.”

“I will,” he replied. “Until you believe it without needing to hear it.”

Clara looked at him. Really looked.

“Why are you like this?” she asked.

“Because I know what it’s like to be owned by expectations,” Ethan said. “I won’t be the person who does that to you.”

There was a knock.

“Five minutes for the reception entrance,” an assistant said.

Clara stood. “Ready to face the world, Mr. Cole?”

Ethan offered his arm. “Only if you’re beside me, Mrs. Cole.”

She hesitated at the title.

Then she took his arm.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said.

“Name it.”

“We walk in together. But we leave when I say I’m done.”

“Agreed,” he said without pause.

They stepped back into the noise.

Flashes lit the room.

Clara leaned toward him. “They’re going to write stories about us.”

“Let them,” Ethan said. “We’ll write our own.”

She held his arm a little tighter.

For the first time, the future didn’t feel like a trap.