Chapter Thirteen

The day that Hazel had nervously anticipated sneaked up on her far too quickly. The dress had been bought. People had been invited. Her mother had talked her ear off and her sister had glared at her venomously. The only thing that helped ease her anxiety over the madness was the hours she had spent away from Van. But ironically, as everything in her life seemed to be, those welcomed hours were to prepare her to spend the rest of her life with him. That notion made her sick.

Aside from using wedding planning as an excuse, Hazel had been avoiding him like the plague. Whilst they sometimes ate breakfast together before he left for work, she had been able to dodge all personal questions. Their conversations, as rare as they were, were kept to a minimum; consisting of small talk and rudimentary topics. All boring and impersonal. They were no closer to knowing anything about each other than they had been the day they met. But the sizzle was there. She just knew that it would be so easy for him to invade her heart if she ever relaxed her guard. Being near him was strangely natural. Being alone together was awkward because she obviously kept her distance, but natural.

But here she was, standing in front of a full length mirror, looking at herself wide eyed. They had joked and passed sarcastic comments about the whole process at the fitting but now that she stood all dolled up in her white dress, she felt the full burden of what they were doing. She wondered if Van was feeling the same jittery apprehension that she did.

For a moment, Hazel considered running away on the grounds of cold feet. The moment after that, she considered going back to her studio flat to live peacefully and perhaps even start adopting cats. The moment after that, she was smiling bitterly at her reflection.

"Story tail ending Hazel, just like you always wanted." her eyes traveled her body again, taking in the understated puffy ball gown dress with its lacy train, and the flowers on the sofa behind her, "Except your prince is charming isn't actually yours and you, uh, how do I put this lightly? You don't want to marry him. And the cherry on top of the literal wedding cake is that the little girl you're doing this for hates you and the lady barely remembers to give you a chance at conversation, never mind wondering at the absurdity of you suddenly turning up and getting married. And your dear father, readily pimping you out for money. Perfect dream wedding I tell you."

Her eyes brimmed with tears but she swallowed them, "Keep it together, kid."

Her eyes rested on her cast. It looked reasonably bizarre against her dress. And like her cast, her hair stood out as strange to her in all its straightened and sleekly curled glory, with the delicate flower petals.

A knock sounded on the door, followed by Van's voice, "Hazel?"

Her eyes traveled to the door as Van knocked again, "Hazel?"

"Y-yes?" her voice broke on the s.

"We need to make something clear before we go out there." Hazel could almost imagine his dark eyes going down to assess the floor, "I won't betray our wedding vows. Even if you hate me, you are my wife and I value the institution of marriage as a cherished commitment. I hope you do too."

His voice was commanding, demanding even. Hazel dared not to provoke him, so she took a deep breath and said, "I've always valued it too. But a committed marriage is for people who are either in love or in full consent. Our little agreement is neither." she shrugged, steeling her resolve further. "So I hope you to do as you desire. And as for myself, I just want to be alone."

"Now listen here –." Van started, his frustration rising.

"Van, what are you doing here? Go! Alter!" Mrs. George shushed him in the middle of his sentence.

For the first time Hazel was glad for her mother's arrival. When she had managed to shush Van goth from the door Carla George hustled Hazel out of the room without query if she was ready. She was executing the entire process as efficiently as a professional wedding planner; graciously impersonal and minus the tears of a mother giving away her daughter. A stranger looking in would never guess that she was the bride's mother.

"Your father wants me to get you out there this very moment." she mumbled absentmindedly. "Delays at a wedding speaks of bad preparation. Though with the little time you gave us getting all this prepared was nothing but a rush."

Of course, Hazel conceded, Lionel George was the reason anything happened in my life. The reason you function at all, mother. Of course you would not know that your husband was the one orchestrating the whole thing.

At the alter a mix of nerves and frustration was eating away at Van. He shifted his bowtie slightly, wondering what Hazel meant by full consent. She was there, getting married to him, so did she mean full consent from him? Idle questions raged in his mind, blocking any thought of what was about to happen.

Then the music started and he finally realized that the beautiful woman who annoyed him all of the three weeks since they had met was going to come down the aisle to him. She was going to say 'I do' and reiterate their practiced vows then they would do the briefest of kisses. And with that they would be bounded together potentially for life.

No one outside of their fathers, their lawyers, themselves and Zash knew of their arrangement. He'd asked her if she told any of her friends. Hazel had laughed, looked at him over her shoulder and continued laughing until she disappeared into the room she took as her hideaway.

The chord of the piano changed to the classic 'Here Comes the Bride' song and he fought himself to leave his thoughts for later. Hazel's blue eyed sister came down the aisle, smiling at Van. The girl couldn't be more than 15 and yet she sent off an unsettling vibe; enough so, that whenever she was nearby he stuck to Hazel like glue. The distain the girl plainly showed towards her sister was overwhelming.

He looked pass her, and stared at Hazel, his breath catching. She was coming to him, her casted hand held by her father. Hazel looked beyond beautiful. He had seen the dress at the fitting, something that could not be avoided considering that they had limited time, but the woman he was seeing looked completely different. The dress, the brief peek of her heels and the thin veil over her face that allowed him the faintest view of her beautiful face all gave her an unearthly glow. Even so, he longed to see her in her snug jeans shorts he suspected were at one point pants, with her frizzy hair and random blotches of color on her hands.

"Two words." Zash muttered in his ear.

Van scoffed, "One. Breathtaking."

His best man slapped him on his back, "I feel yah'."

When Lionel delivered her to him, Van took her hand, his eyes not straying from her's that stared wide eyed at him. He led her slowly up the two steps and stopped before the preacher. The music stopped and they reluctantly looked away to watch the man as he began the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of two souls in holy matrimony..."

"You look beautiful, Hazel."

Her eyes wandered over to take him in. Van was dressed in a deep black tuxedo with white trimming. His hair was gelled back, to Hazel's dismay. She quite liked his unruly hair, but his eyes were the same; calculating yet inviting. He looked every inch of the sinfully beautiful bachelor he was about to not be.

"And you look dapper." she whispered, allowing herself those few words of compliment.

Her attention went back to the preacher, "Wait, is that a compliment I hear, Hazel George?"

She shushed him but Van persisted, "Come now, talk to me."

"Oh, forgive me for wanting to pay attention to my own wedding." Hazel hissed softly.

"No fighting in front of God." Zash muttered, holding back his laughter.

Hazel kept her gaze on the preacher, glad her veil would obscure Van's view of her smile.

The ceremony dragged as every wedding seemed to. Despite herself, Hazel barely heard a word. Her thoughts were bouncing around in her head, none taking precedence over the other.

But then finally, "Do you, Hazel George, take Van goth Steel to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

A little startled that they had gotten that far, Hazel swallowed, "I do." She took the wedding ring from Zash's girlfriend who had been her only option for a maid of honor, and shakily slipped the ring over Van's finger.

"And do you, Van goth Steel, take Hazel George as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." He too took his ring from Van and slipped it over her finger.

"By the powers invested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Van turned to Hazel and slowly lifted the delicate veil. He was again struck by her beauty. Normally, her frizzy hair would be up in a sloppy ponytail or bun with stubborn fly-aways that Van craved to curl around his fingers. The Hazel standing before him was notably well groomed with every tendril of hair in place and flowing around her face. The petals in her hair were set artfully in her hair to match the patterns on her dress. Her makeup was light and her full, rosy red lips made her eyes stand out and invited him in. Her eyes were wide, and her lips pressed tightly. He knew that she did not want to kiss him. But he wanted to kiss her and that motivation was enough to make him pull her closer.

Their lips met in a soft kiss. Hazel could not resist closing her eyes. His lips were impossibly soft and warm. Her hand rested against his firm chest, and for the briefest moment, she felt loved. She felt like everything was right in the world.

Hazel's lips were everything Van dreamed of, and he certainly had some interesting dreams. He wanted to kiss her deeper, but the audience's cheer brought him back to reality.

Hazel opened her eyes, harshly brought back to earth. There was no happy ending. With the end of the kiss came the end of any hope she might have had for that brief moment. Reality slapped her hard as Van's friends and associates came to congratulate them as Van led them down from the alter. A few women she had associated with in high school came to her to congratulate her but the harsh truth surrounded her; she was a hermit who was thrown to the winds by the people who should have protected her. And here she stood surrounded by persons she did not know. Her eyes brimmed with tears but she bit them back, smiling faintly for everyone's benefit.

"Would you excuse us." Van said, leading Hazel by the elbow to the room she had finished getting ready in. He sat her down on the sofa and handed her his handkerchief.

"You don't strike me as the type to cry at your wedding." he murmured, squatting before her.

Hazel begrudgingly wiped at the underside of her eyes, "I need to get changed. I'll be right back."

Before he could stop her, Hazel dashed behind a door and locked it. 

*****FORCED*****