CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 16

[MNOTHO]

Joy was called, and we did end up getting a chance to talk with Alfred. He promised that he'll come this side soon and talk properly with him. Mtho and Bangizwe are still here, staying in my other house, and that alone reminds me that I need to change the locks and update my security password soon.
With too many deliveries, calls, and piles of paperwork, I'm finally done for the day. Bonga helped me today, which is rare, and somehow, that alone makes me even more suspicious. There's something he's hiding, something he and Nikky are keeping between them. I didn't want to overthink it, but my mind won't rest.
I saw them. Through the window. Hugging in the car.
And I know Bonga when he's drunk, his face, his tone, his eyes, but last night, he didn't seem drunk at all. That's what scares me the most. I trust both of them, I really do, but my heart pounds with a fear I can't silence. What if something happened? What if there's something between them that neither of them wants to admit?
What if Nikky saw something in Bonga, something softer, something freer, that she never saw in this control freak that is me?
I try to shake off the thought, but it claws deeper into my chest. I need to know. I can't breathe without knowing. So yes, I asked someone to look into it. Their calls, their texts, their movements, I asked for everything. Even the car tracker, to check where Bonga was last night. I know it's wrong, I know it's crossing a line, invading their privacy, but my heart won't rest until I know the truth.

I just pray it's nothing serious. Nothing that could break what we have. Nothing that could destroy the bond between my son and I. And God, please, nothing that could take Nikky away from me. I love her. God knows how much I love that woman. But love alone doesn't silence suspicion.
I have to face the music, whatever tune it plays.
"Baba, you're still here? Aren't you supposed to be fetching Nikky?" Bonga asks as he appears at the doorway of my office. His voice catches me off guard. He looks genuinely concerned, his brows drawn, his tone gentle, and for a moment, I hate that my heart doesn't believe him.
"I'm heading there right now," I tell him quickly, forcing a calm tone. "I told her I'd be late."
He nods, smiling faintly. "Okay, it's getting darker. Winter's here." He says it softly, like it's just another sentence, but to me, it feels like a warning, a quiet echo of what's coming.
As he walks away, I just stand there, watching his back disappear down the hall. He's my son. He wouldn't betray me. He can't.
But my gut, my gut never lies.
Something is going on here.
And I can feel it deep in my bones.

….

I'm not too late, just thirty minutes. That's not bad, right? I even bought her flowers, hoping to show her how sorry I am. The parking lot is almost empty now; only a few cars left, which means she's not alone in this big clinic.
My phone vibrates. It's the guy I sent to check what was going on last night between the two most important people in my life. I'm about to answer when the clinic doors open.
Nikky steps out, her frown deepening as she spots my car. She approaches, hesitates for a split second, then slides into the passenger seat and bangs the door shut.

"Sir, can you hear me? I have an update," the voice says on the other end of the line.
I blink fast, panic rising. I can't let her hear this. Not now.
"I do, but can I call you after thirty minutes?" I say quickly, trying to sound calm.
"Okay, I'll be waiting for your call," the voice replies, and the line goes dead.
I sigh in relief and put the phone away. Then I turn to her.
She's looking out the window, arms folded, jaw tight. She's beautiful, even when she's angry, but right now, she looks like a storm ready to break.
"No hello kiss?" I tease lightly, hoping to ease the tension.
She scoffs, shaking her head. "You're late, Mnotho." Her tone is sharp, irritated.
"I know, I said I'm sorry."
"And you didn't even open the door for me," she cuts me off, glaring now. "What, since we're dating and not courting anymore, you don't care?"
Her words sting more than I expect. I swallow hard, gripping the steering wheel. I want to tell her I was stuck with work, that I bought her flowers, that I almost lost my mind thinking about her and Bonga, but I can't say any of that. Not now.

So instead, I force a small smile and hand her the flowers. "These are for you," I say softly.
She glances at them and shakes her head slowly.
"You think they're going to soften me up?" she asks, her voice low.
I hoped they would. It was worth a shot, and I didn't think she'd still be this angry.
"You're the one who promised to fetch me. I didn't have a problem getting a taxi to take me home," she continues. She's not wrong. I'm the one who told her I'd fetch her every day, anywhere, that I'd be her personal driver.
I place the bouquet on the backseat.
"I'm wrong, I'm sorry, Peaches. I got held up. Please forgive me," I say, meaning it.
She keeps quiet.
"Tell me how to make it up to you," I add softly as I reach out for her hand.
She doesn't move, and when my fingers finally touch her soft skin, my stomach drops as the image of her and Bonga flashes in my mind again.
"Nothing. I'm sorry for being angry. It's just a lot is going on," she says, her voice lower now. Not irritated or sharp anymore, just tired.
I frown slightly.

"What's wrong?" I ask.
She turns and looks at me lovingly.
For a moment, it feels like the anger between us melts away. Her eyes soften, but there's something behind them, something uneasy, hesitant.
"There's something I need to tell you," she says quietly.
My heart skips a beat. Is she going to confess? Was I right all along? Was I not overthinking everything like I thought I was?
"What is it?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. Inside, my head is pounding, thoughts running wild.
"Pinky knows about us," she says finally, her tone dripping with irritation. "And she was being judgey."
I exhale slowly, not sure if I should feel relieved or disappointed. So this isn't about Bonga.
"She even had the nerve to say you're the same age as my dad," she adds, clicking her tongue in frustration.
"Forget about Pinky, she's nosy," I say, squeezing her hand gently. Pinky is the least of my worries and harmless too.
"Forget?" she repeats, turning to me sharply. "She's the Daily Sun of this clinic, Mnotho. By tomorrow, I'm sure it'll land on Brian's ears."
I frown, confused. What does it matter if Brian finds out? He's not her father.
"What's wrong with that? What's wrong with them knowing we're dating?" I ask.
She blinks, her expression shifting to offense.
"She said dating you will bring problems at work. And I can't afford to lose my job, Mnotho," she says, her voice tense with worry before she lets out a frustrated sigh. Then, suddenly, her eyes narrow at me. "I see what you're trying to do."
My brows knit together. "What are you talking about now?" I ask, my tone calm but curious, bracing myself for where this might go.
"Don't be like that, you know… you think I'm ashamed to be seen by you," she says, her voice quiet but laced with hurt.
"Well… are you? Here you care about Brian and Pinky?" I say, my voice tinged with irritation before regret settles in.
She blinks, and I can see the conflict in her eyes.
"I don't want to lose my job, Mnotho. I had to ask HR to give me a copy of my contract to see if there's a clause I broke by dating you," she says, voice trembling slightly but firm. "Are you a boss or shareholder too for this clinic?" she asks cautiously, trying to gauge my reaction.
I sigh hard, exhaustion washing over me. Oh, Pinky with her big mouth.
"I need to know, Mnotho. Pinky sounded like you are something important in this clinic," she presses, her voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.
I squeeze her hand reassuringly. "I'm not a shareholder or anything important to that clinic. Nothing will happen to you. Pinky is lying."
I remove my hand from hers, feeling a mix of frustration, helplessness, and a pinch of sadness, and start the car. The weight of the silence between us presses down like a heavy fog. She huffs, turning to stare out the window, her jaw tight, her hands folded in that stubborn way she does when she's upset. I can almost feel the walls she's built around her heart, high, thick, unyielding walls that I have yet to climb.

I need to tell Brian about this when I get the chance, and I need to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. I still can't understand how my relationship with her could possibly affect her job. It makes no sense, yet here we are, tension hanging in the air, both of us simmering with irritation and unspoken thoughts.
We sit quietly in the car. Silence is safer right now, a buffer for our anger, our frustration, and the storm of emotions neither of us wants to confront just yet. Being still might help us calm down. And I need to listen to that gut of mine, the one that's been shouting at me since yesterday, the one that always seems to know what's coming.

"Ngiyak'thanda, Sthandwa sami," I murmur quietly, almost to myself. I really do. My heart aches with it, even though suspicion still lingers like a shadow at the edge of my mind. She keeps quiet, silent as the night around us. She can't or won't say those words back. Not yet. Even though we're dating, those words feel like a barrier she hasn't crossed.
I study her profile in the dim light of the dashboard. I can see the layers of pain and caution etched into her expression. It makes me wonder about the man who once held her heart, the one who hurt her so deeply that she felt the need to guard it with walls this high. Walls built so carefully, so deliberately, that even I, someone who loves her, can't just walk through them.

But I will. I will climb those walls. Every brick, every obstacle, every fear she's hidden behind, I will scale it. Because I can't imagine my life without her. Because I see the fire in her eyes beneath all that caution. And because I know that somewhere under those walls, there's a heart that belongs to me, waiting for me to reach it.

.
.
.
.
She forgot her flowers in the car. I don't call out after her when she bangs the door and walks off without looking back. Part of me wants to chase her and demand the goodbye I didn't get, but a quieter, angrier part reminds me she's younger, she moves faster, she leaves faster. And angry too. I tuck the bouquet into the passenger footwell and let the silence settle.

I pull my phone out with hands that won't stop shaking and dial the PI. Whatever comes next, I'll face it. The line rings twice before he picks up.

"Sir," he answers, professional, steady.
"I need everything you found out last night," I say, forcing my voice to be steady too. Inside I'm not steady at all. My stomach twists and my chest goes cold. I don't know if I'm bracing for relief or the worst.
"I have it, sir," he replies. "Calls, texts, locations, all logged. Do you want the timeline?"
"Just tell me what you found," I say. Short. Controlled. I swallow down the urge to demand the whole file emailed to me this second.
"Well, Nikky's phone shows she was at your place all day, that's the location ping," he starts.
"I know the day. Tell me about last night, between eight and ten." My throat is thick; I don't want to sound frightened, but I am.
"Okay. Around eight, Bonga was at his stepfather's place; he didn't stay long. After that he drove to 8Heaven Hotel…" His voice trails and the word hotel lands like a punch. Hotel.
"What?" I ask, too loud.
"He went to 8Heaven. I'm still waiting on the security guy to send the CCTV footage. While he was there, he called Nikky, around 9:20 p.m., and sent a text with an address." The PI's voice becomes urgent. "Sir, they didn't stay long at the hotel. Ten minutes, maybe a bit more."
Ten minutes. That's nothing and everything. Ten minutes can be a handshake, a hug, or the kind of minute that changes a life. My mind races through images I don't want to see. I feel the air thin around me.
"Give me the security guy's number. I'll handle it myself," I say. My voice is sharp. I want to walk into that hotel and demand answers. I want to tear the truth out and throw it on the table.
"As you know, sir, that's a luxury hotel. You can't just barge in and demand CCTV. Let me handle it, I can get the footage, but it will take time and the right pressure." He sounds like he's trying to keep me from making a scene I'd regret.
I breathe out, slow and steady, but my hands are clamped on the steering wheel so hard my knuckles go grey. Time. Patience. Let the PI do his job. I can hear my own heart in the line.
No. I won't let fear make me reckless, but I also won't be passive. I tell the PI to push harder, to pull every thread. I want timestamps, door logs, CCTV angles, the names of every staff member who manned that floor. I want raw footage. I want the truth.
"All right," the PI says. "I'll call you when I have the footage. Don't do anything rash."

I hang up the call and rest my face on my hands, praying, hoping that the meet-up between them was innocent and Nikky only went there to fetch a drunk Bonga, nothing else.

••••••

[DIAMOND]

"Can we talk?" Nikky says as she walks into my room.

I groan softly under my breath. She's been silent the whole time, and now suddenly she wants to talk? I don't know where these moods of hers come from. Probably from dating that forty-four year-old man. I still need to meet him, look him dead in the eye, and make sure he knows exactly where he stands, that if he ever hurts Nikky, I'll personally make him regret it.
"Yes, my angel," I say, shifting to the side so she can sit beside me. She does, her face blank, her eyes tired. That kind of tired that doesn't come from work but from thinking too much.
"What's up?" I ask curiously.

"It's about my surprise birthday party," she says, voice low and calm.
I freeze for a second. My throat tightens, but I quickly compose myself and try to sound casual. I even chuckle a little, though it sounds nervous.
"What birthday party?" I ask, feigning confusion, even though I know exactly what she's talking about.
She tilts her head at me, her eyes narrowing just slightly.
"Don't," she says quietly. "Snothando told me everything."
Oh, that f***ing b**tch. Of course she did. I should have known she couldn't keep her mouth shut.
"My angel, I just wanted to do something special for you," I say quickly. "I know you wanted something small, and it will be small, just us and your sisters." I inch closer to her, trying to read her mood. Sno probably ran her mouth to make me look bad, to stir things between us.
"But you should have told me, Dee," Nikky says softly. "I don't like surprises. There was no need for secrecy."
"You deserve to be celebrated, Nikky," I say, my voice gentle now. "I just wanted to see you happy, nothing else."
And I mean it. I really do. I love her. She's the calm in all my storms, soft, loving, perfect for a soul as bruised as mine. She doesn't even know how much light she brings into my life.
But I swear, I will kill Snothando for this.
"Everything's already arranged," I say, smiling at her. "This weekend, we're celebrating you."
She sighs softly, and I can see her body start to relax a little. Her shoulders ease, the tension leaving her face.
"What's wrong, Nikky? You look stressed," I ask gently. I know it's not the party. There's something else gnawing at her.
She lies back on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. I lie down too, turning my head toward her.
"Nothing I can't handle, babe," she says after a pause. "I just feel like this relationship with Mnotho will give me stress. Pinky told me I might get in trouble if they find out I'm dating him." She turns to look at me, her expression a mix of fear and frustration.
Oh, poor baby.
"But he isn't one of the doctors who work there," I say calmly. "I don't see the issue."
"I even asked HR to print a copy of my contract to check if I broke any rule," she says tiredly. Her voice sounds small, uncertain.
"Don't worry," I tease softly, trying to lighten the mood. "You have a friend who's a lawyer. I'll look it over for you."
That finally earns me a smile, a small, sweet, genuine one.
"Well," she says, "I guess I'll see tomorrow. And I'm sorry for being annoying. I know you only want the best for me."
I nod, trying not to let my irritation show. I know she means it. Sno is the one who caused all this tension.
"By the way," she adds suddenly, "Sno is dating Hlumelo now, and Zola is pissed. Oh, Dee, drama loves me."
She laughs, but my smile fades.
"The guy who bought you a dress?" I ask, just to be sure.

"I don't even know why he bought me that dress," she says with a shrug. "It was beautiful, though. I should've kept it."
I stare at her, disbelief tightening my chest.
Snothando is moving strange now. First it was Sphephelo, and now Hlumelo? Does she love Nikky's leftovers, or does she want to be her? Who's next? Sboniso?
If she ever gets close to Sbo, I swear I will kill her.
Nikky's too blind to see it. She doesn't realize how dangerous that girl can be, how jealousy can turn into obsession, how obsession can turn deadly. I need to protect her, even if it means protecting her from her own friends.
I sigh softly, still watching her. She looks peaceful now, smiling faintly to herself, completely unaware of the storm brewing around her.
"You know…" I start, about to say something, but the ping of my phone interrupts me.
I reach for it, glancing at the screen. It's a message from Konke.
My heart skips a little, a smile tugging at my lips before I can stop it. He's telling me to have a peaceful night, that he'll meet me in my dreams.
Ever since we started talking, I've been dreaming about him, a lot. It's strange, almost unsettling. I rarely remember my dreams, but with him, I always do.
I stare at the message a little longer than I should, then glance back at Nikky. She's still lying there, eyes closed, her breathing soft and even. She's tired. I let her sleep as I'm about to type the message. My phone rings. He's calling. Why am I sweaty now? Why am I so nervous?
I calm myself down and answer.
"Hey, I was about to text you," I say quickly. He chuckles softly, that sound alone making my heart warm.
"I was checking up on you, to make sure Maseko didn't come and annoy you," he teases. Everything about this man is perfect, his voice, his presence, his face. Oh Lord, help my soul.
"Oh, forget about him, he will live," I say, trying to dismiss it. I have so many incriminating things about Paul. One wrong move and the world will know.
"Are you babysitting?" he asks. I frown, confused.
"I'm what?" I ask.
"Babysitting. I'm hearing little babies' laughter on your side," he says. Huh? I look around my room, still confused.
"No, I'm not," I reply. He keeps quiet and groans softly.
"I'm sorry, maybe I'm imagining things. See you soon," he says and hangs up. Leaving me confused. Babies? What the…?

I huff softly, my mind spinning. Babies? I glance at Nikky, still lying there, peaceful, unaware. No, she can't be pregnant. My chest skips as my thoughts race, refusing to settle. I chuckle nervously, shaking my head, trying to replay our last night with Paul, the intimacy, the laughter, the chaos. Could anything from that night have caused this?

No. I can't be. I'm on contraceptives. It's impossible. I press my palms to my face, muttering under my breath, "I can't be pregnant… nnooo…"