IQANDA LE GROOTMAN

IQANDA LE GROOTMAN
CHAPTER 4

ZOBUHLE ZWIDE

Break time finally came, and yooo, I was drained. My body felt heavy, my mind even heavier. I barely touched my food, just sat there staring into space.

"Zo," Khwezi leaned forward, her voice sharp with concern. "Senzeni leslima esu Sihle?"[what that fool Sihle did?]

I sighed, fighting the lump in my throat. "He cheated on me. I found lingerie in his car… and when I asked, he told me I was overreacting."

"Arghaa!" she almost shouted, slamming her cup on the table. "This man has no shame!"

Before I could respond, a shadow fell over our table. That familiar scent of his cologne reached me first.

"Baby, ngicela sikhulume," Sihle's voice came from behind me.[can we please talk]

I turned slowly, my eyes cold. "About what, Dr. Mthethwa?"

Before he could even speak, another male voice cut through — Khwezi shouted. "Akafuni! You are a whore. Isfebe esifebeni! My friend has been loyal to you, and wena?"

I blinked, stunned, my lips parting in shock. Khwezi shot up instantly, fury written all over her face. But Sihle was quicker, stepping forward.

"Kahle, ukuphapha wena nawe. You don't get to judge me. Whore ngokwakho!" he snapped, turning on the guy.[stop being forward]

The tension around the cafeteria thickened, eyes on us. And then — before I could process anything — Khwezi lifted her cup and splashed the hot coffee straight onto Sihle's face.

He gasped, stumbling back, his hands shooting up to his skin. The cafeteria erupted in whispers and gasps.

Khwezi's eyes blazed as she leaned forward, her voice steady and ice cold. "I'm not Zo. You won't say shit to me and expect me to keep quiet."

I swear the entire cafeteria froze. Sihle just stood there, dripping coffee, too shocked to respond. Khwezi grabbed my hand, and we walked out, leaving him standing in the middle of everyone, humiliated. Ayy, Khwezi is fire.

AFTER WORK

I went straight to my apartment, not even bothering to eat. The day had drained every ounce of of energy from me. I slipped out of my clothes, ran the warm water, and sank into the shower, letting the steam and heat melt away some of the pain in my chest.

Afterward, I wore my silky nightdress, soft against my skin, and curled up on the couch. For the first time all day, I felt… a little human again.

Then my phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, my heart softened. Mama.

I smiled and answered. "Sthandwa sami," I said gently.

Her voice was warm but heavy. "Zo, awuze ekhaya mntanami. We've got things to discuss."

Something in her tone made my chest tighten. It wasn't just a casual call. She wanted me home — urgently.

"Okay, Mama. Tomorrow I'm not going to work, ngizobuya ekhaya," I promised.

But before I could say anything more, my phone flickered and shut down. I blinked, confused. The battery had been on 100%… how?

I pressed the power button again and again, but nothing. Dead. Silence.

Uneasy, I placed it aside, trying not to overthink. I switched on Netflix, hoping to distract myself, but the back of my mind kept circling Mama's words. We've got things to discuss.

What could be so serious?

Eventually, exhaustion pulled me under, and I fell asleep with the TV light flickering across my room.