Bound by cracks

CHAPTER 09

OLERATO MOAGI – POV

Saturday felt light in a way that almost scared me.

I was on night shift, so the day was mine. No alarms. No rushing. Just a few hours of pretending my heart wasn't still bruised.

I was sitting by the pool with my sisters—Segametsi, Omphile, and Onthatile. The sun was warm, the water calm, music playing softly from a speaker nearby.

For a moment, life felt normal.

"I'm telling you," Segametsi said, stretching out. "Next year I'm choosing peace. No stress. No nonsense."

Omphile laughed. "You say that every year."

"And every year life ignores me," Segametsi replied.

They all laughed.

I smiled too.

"I'm good, by the way," I said suddenly, needing to say it out loud. "I don't care about Khaya anymore. I'm moving on."

Omphile glanced at me. "You sure?"

"Yes," I said quickly. "I'm done."

It sounded convincing. Even to me.

We talked about nothing important—dating, money, random gossip. I let the laughter carry me. I let the sun warm the parts of me that still felt cold.

Then Omphile went quiet.

She stared at her phone, her smile slowly disappearing.

"Phi?" Onthatile asked. "What's wrong?"

Omphile swallowed. "Guys…"

My chest tightened instantly.

"What?" I asked.

She looked at me carefully. "Rato… Khaya's wedding is happening right now."

The words didn't make sense at first.

"What do you mean… right now?"

"It's live," she said softly. "Princess Lindiwe Ngwenya."

Saturday.

My hands started shaking.

Omphile's phone buzzed again—a live video notification. Before I could stop myself, I leaned over.

And I saw him.

---

KHAYELIHLE ZULU – POV

The courtyard was full.

Too full.

Elders. Royals. Cameras. The entire kingdom watching every breath I took.

I stood beside Lindiwe Ngwenya under the ceremonial canopy, dressed in white and gold that felt heavier than armor. The vows had been spoken. The people were cheering.

They thought this was joy.

My friends were there—Nhlanhla, Castro, Melikhaya—standing a little further back, suits slightly undone, eyes fixed on me. They knew my face too well.

Castro shook his head slightly.
Nhlanhla's jaw was tight.
Melikhaya wouldn't look away.

Lindiwe leaned closer to me, smiling for the cameras. Her hand slid onto my arm.

"Khayelihle," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Please. Just smile."

I didn't move.

She tried again, gripping my hand. "I'm your wife now."

The word wife felt foreign.

"I love you," she said quietly.

Something inside me snapped.

I pulled my hand away. "Don't say that."

Her smile faltered, panic flashing in her eyes. Cameras zoomed in.

"Please," she whispered. "Everyone is watching."

She stepped closer and touched my chest, desperate now. "We can make this work."

I reacted without thinking.

I pushed her away.

Not with rage—but with rejection.

Enough that she stumbled.

Enough that she fell to the ground.

The courtyard went dead silent.

Gasps ripped through the crowd. Elders rushed forward. Cameras froze—then surged.

Lindiwe sat on the ground, stunned, humiliation written across her face.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs.

"I—" My voice failed me.

I looked up and saw my friends.

Castro had both hands on his head.
Melikhaya stared at the ground.
Nhlanhla met my eyes—disbelief and pain mixed together.

"What did you do?" he mouthed.

I stepped back, horror settling in.

This wasn't defiance anymore.

This was damage.

I stood there—crowned, married, exposed—realizing too late that I had just shattered more than tradition.

I had shattered people.

And somewhere out there, the woman I loved was watching me become someone I never wanted to be.

The crowd whispered.

The kingdom stared.

And I stood in the middle of it all—

Knowing there was no undoing this now.