Will You Marry My Groom?

16

~ HAZEL ~

I had come to the realization that I couldn’t force Tristan to love me. If he claimed he felt nothing for me and could say such mean words to me like I had no emotions, like I was a useless piece of trash, then it was going to be so stupid to force myself into this. 

If he wasn’t going to apologize or still insisted that he wasn’t interested in loving me then I was definitely not going to bother him anymore, I wasn’t going to be desperate for his so-called “love”. 

He had to know what it felt like to be ignored, to be insulted. If after everything, he still wasn’t going to apologize or change then I was going to give up, I was going to ignore Charlotte and Kye’s advice to bear with him.

A middle-aged man approached us, smiling from ear to ear like he was the world's happiest man.

“Tristan…” he said cheerfully in his deep masculine Spanish accent. 

Tristan rose from his chair to give him a hug, also smiling. 

“Wow, you’ve grown so much, I remember when you were still so small.” He said, patting Tristan’s back. 

Tristan  let out a short laugh, pulling away from the hug. 

“¿Es ella la indicada?” He was clearly referring to me. 

“Yes. This is my wife, Hazel. Hazel, this is Mr. Hernández.”

“Oh,” I rose to my feet with a forced smile. “It’s really nice to meet you, Mr. Hernández.”

“Wow, your wife is very beautiful, son.” He said with a boyish grin.

“Thank you so much.” My face flushed red. 

“I've been dying to meet you but I have to leave now, I hope you enjoy your party. I’ve been begging Tristan for me to meet you but now that I have, it feels so great. I’ll pay you both a visit in America someday.” Why was this old man so cute?

“It’d be a pleasure.” 

He pulled me into a fatherly hug which only lasted for a few seconds because his phone started ringing. 

“Hello,” he said after answering the call. “Yes, I’m coming.” He said, walking away after a goodbye.

“I thought you’d be mean to him.” Tristan said, taking his seat.

I didn’t bother to respond to him and had my seat. 

“How long will this continue?” He frowned a bit. 

I still didn’t respond to him, grabbing a glass of wine from the tray a random waiter was holding.