Forced (1st book in The Forced Series)

Chapter Sixteen *REVISED*

Chapter Sixteen

Hazel roamed the halls of the museum slowly. She ached in places she'd only felt once before, but the pain wasn't as bad as the pain she felt in her chest. Not even the massive migraine she had from the hangover could come close to it. The irrational part of her craved the feeling of being in Van's arms just as she had been the night before. She had felt safe and treasured. However, she knew that it was her drunken self that felt safe. The rest of her wanted to run for the hills and hide from the impending hurt and rejection she knew was soon to come. Her one and only intimate relation with a man proved as much, that she would never be good enough.

Back then, Hazel had dyed her hair brown to fit in, to play the part of the well brought up young debutante she was raised to be. Her red hair made her stand out amongst the other girls from the social circles she grew up in. A part of her had thought that if she dyed her hair a conservative and moderate brown, if she stayed between the lines of expected behavior then she would fit in. But she never had. Somehow she had still been on the edge of everything. She had been placed on a pedestal and watched like a hawk. On one side she was never good enough, and on another she was always just too something to be accepted into the fold rather than being a trophy for others to smile at.

But now she didn't care. She had allowed her hair to grow out the color and return to its original, fiery red. Her skin went un-tampered with, boldly showing the patches of freckles across her nose and she had stopped straightening her hair so it curled and frizzed around her face. Leaving New Jersey behind had allowed her to find herself. But finding herself meant she protected her over everything else.

And that led to loneliness. She never let people get close enough to hurt her. And Van goth Steel, with all his charm and humor, was no different.

An unsettling feeling as heavy as an anchor made its home in her chest at the thought. Hazel sat on a bench by a large painting of a stormy sky. There was not a sight of the sun; it was as if the clouds and raging sea had swallowed it whole. The scene reflected her mood well; sad, alone and dreary. Not that Hazel had felt anything else than those three over the years. A tear slipped from her eyes and she chastised herself for crying more in the span of two days than she ever did in five years.

Meanwhile, Van was pacing the hotel room. He thought that he had figured out Hazel George but he obviously had not. In all of his twenty seven years of life, he had never seen anyone as cryptic and anti-everything as Hazel.

He had thought that she wanted to marry him for all the perks that came with the Steel name–for money, to get back her social status, for an easy life. And evidently – according to the newspapers – to get the reputation of taming the New Jersey's most eligible bachelor.

He scanned the story he had been reading again.

Hazel George is back! And Notorious bachelor Van goth Steel has been hitched!

The picture used for the heading of the article was two pictures of them merged together. The picture of Hazel they used was an old one from five years prior put next to a recent one of Van.

The twenty seven year old businessman and Forbes mentioned bachelor wedded New Jersey's sweetie-pie Hazel George yesterday at Grace Chapel. Rumors had been flying around since last week of the festivities.

Some might remember Hazel George as the New Jersey's very own debutante bachelorette before she went under the radar five years ago. Now the darling socialist has resurfaced with red flowing hair, which a source tells us is her real coloring, and sadly a cast on her left hand. The cast did not mar her beauty as she looked fabulous in a Count train trail wedding dress. It's no wonder that the good girl caught the eye, and ring, of Van goth Steel, Jersey's resident bad boy.

Our reporter caught sight of the two leaving before the reception, apparently too engrossed in each other to join the others gathered celebrate their union...

The article seemed to go on and on. But now Van could not understand something else. Jersey's sweetie pie? Hazel George? The woman who did not even spear his father from a tongue lashing. He knew for a fact that the only thing sweet about her was her kiss.

A begrudging smile curled on Van's lips at thoughts of kissing her.

He sighed again. Continuing his pacing, Van walked to the balcony to look out at the view unseeingly. He was trying to wrap his head around them not moving forward with a relationship. How could she possibly expect either of them to be happy in a loveless, affectionless marriage? They were not even friends and, going by how she isolated herself from him, the never will be.

The hotel door opened. Van turned to look at her, and took an involuntary step forward at the sight of her looking pale but she stepped back. Hazel clenched her hand into a tight fist, largely aware of the fact that Van was his usual shirtless self.

Van settled on running his eyes over her, leaving Hazel feeling exposed, "Are you okay, Hazel? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

She pressed her lips tightly, squirming under his gaze before she answered curtly, "I'm fine."

Those two words made her even more exhausted than she felt. The headache from drinking was not helping either. She sighed and tried again, hoping to sound less vicious. "Tired, but fine. I'm going to go lay down."

With that she made a beeline for the bedroom. 

And that was how they spent the next two weeks of their supposed honeymoon. Hazel went to museums, slept and spent a considerable amount of time building walls around her already impenetrable ones. While Van drank beer and visited the gym, and gave up on understanding the woman he had to send his life with. 

*****FORCED*****