Tatum's Tears | On Hold

Chapter 3 - ❝Made up of Tears.❞ | Part 1 |

Chapter 3- "Made up of Tears."

Turns out, the party could be worse than Tatum expected.

Much, much worse.

So worse that Tatum had only two options; Cry in happiness, or cry in sorrow.

Either way, Tatum just broke down and cried.

~ * ~

A few hours earlier, Tatum pulled into the driveway of the monstrosity of a mansion, surprised that there was an actual valet ready to take her keys to park her sleek BMW. She raised her eyebrows at Angier at the extravagant arrangements for the so-called house party, but the traitor just grinned innocuously.

She sighed and shook her head to herself, opening her door as she took an unsteady step out of the car in her 4-inch red bottom calf-length boots.

Ah, the horrors of her week-long practice session wearing those death-traps designed to kill her feet.

Tatum had to agree secretly with Angier, though. The outfit he'd purchased was a perfect combination of casual and sexy and just the right amount of Tatum. It was a sleeveless black asymmetrical flowy top, a pair of light-washed ripped jeans cuffed at the bottom and a kickass black leather strap for her Apple Watch. She'd managed a little make-up with some dark lipstick and liner, and coupled with the natural waves of her dark hair, it was perfect.

After a moment of standing on steady ground, Tatum was satisfied and confident that she could walk without embarrassing herself. She handed the keys to the waiting valet, leaving the driver's side door open as she rounded the bonnet of her car. Angier fell into step with her as they walked up the footpath, looking as hot and impeccable as he always managed to, in a pair ripped jeans of his own and a white button up, the sleeves of which were rolled up to his elbows.

Disgusting. It's disgusting how good he always manages to look, she thought as they took the three steps to the front door, which was manned by a freaking bouncer.

Just how big was this party gonna be?

"Karas and Wellington." She said as the bouncer gestured to the writing pad he was holding. He checked the list and nodded politely, opening the door and moving on to the people coming up behind them.

Whoa, was the first thing that came to her mind as she stepped inside the room. The floor vibrated under her feet with each thump of the bass, almost as if the room was also dancing along with the hundreds of people present. The huge room was decorated with strobe lights and furniture so precise, that it resembled a dance club. Tatum's eyes caught sight of a DJ on one side - of course, there would be a DJ, and there were huge couches lining the sides of the room along with tables upon tables stacked with snacks of all varieties.

"Wow," Angier echoed her thought out loud beside her, turning to her with wide eyes. His anticipation to mingle the crowd and join the dance floor was palpable, and Tatum didn't have the heart to grab a drink and sulk in the corner like she'd originally planned to do. So, she decided to join him for a while just to appease him, "Alright, I'll come with you."

"That's my girl." Angier cheered, and Tatum had one last thought before he pulled her into the crowd of Alpha couples.

Oh, how I wish.

Over the next hour, Tatum downed almost a dozen shots in different colors—nooo, not a keg, there was an actual bartender and a freaking bar, which he tended to—and met a tonne of people she had met a lot of times before in her life. It was a bittersweet experience, seeing them all grown up and most of them having already accepted their Alpha titles, with a Mate on their arm that they were showing off proudly. On the other hand, every time someone tried to tell her how sorry they were for her loss, she just wanted to rip a chunk of her hair out.