Healing as an family

CHAPTER 30

OMPHILE – POV

Morning came with a strange softness.

Not the loud, demanding kind that usually filled the palace halls, but a quiet one — the kind that made you sit with your feelings whether you wanted to or not.

I was awake before the sun fully rose, lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, my hand resting on my chest. My heart felt full and heavy at the same time.

Andile and I were officially dating now.

The thought still made me smile.

He was kind. Patient. Grounded. The kind of man who listened, not just waited for his turn to speak. Being with him felt easy in a way I hadn't known I needed.

But happiness didn't cancel guilt.

My baby sister had lost her child.

That truth sat painfully in my chest.

One life gone. One still fighting.

I exhaled slowly and pushed myself out of bed. Today was my off day, and I'd decided not to go anywhere crowded or loud. I wanted quiet. I wanted family — the kind that didn't ask questions but understood.

Outside, the morning air was cool and fresh.

Onthatile was already by the water, laughing as she dipped her feet in, her energy bright and carefree. Segametsi sat nearby, watching her with an amused smile, shaking her head like she already knew she'd be dragged in.

"You're going to fall," Segametsi warned.

Onthatile laughed. "I won't. I'm not a child."

And she wasn't.

She was grown, confident, and very aware of herself — even if she still loved water like it was part of her soul.

I smiled faintly as I joined them, sitting down and letting the calm settle into me.

For a moment, everything felt… normal.

Then the sound of cars pulling in broke the peace.

I looked up just as familiar faces stepped into view.

Andile.

Lihle.

Olerato.

Emihle.
Castro.
Melikhaya.
Sbusiso.

My heart tightened when I saw Rato.

She looked softer somehow. Quieter. Like someone who had been broken open and stitched back together with care. Lihle never left her side, his hand always finding her back, her fingers, her waist — grounding her.

I stood immediately.

Andile spotted me and smiled, that warm, steady smile that always made my chest flutter.

I walked straight into his arms.

He lifted me easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I laughed softly as he held me close. His lips found mine — slow, deep, familiar — the kind of kiss that wasn't about show, but connection.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing him in.

He rested his forehead against mine when we pulled apart.

"I missed you," he murmured.

"I know," I said softly. "I missed you too."

He kept an arm around me as we turned toward the others.

I walked straight to Olerato and hugged her tightly, careful but firm — letting her feel that I was really there.

"I'm so sorry, Rato," I whispered.

She didn't speak. She just held me back, her grip strong despite everything.

Lihle's hand rested protectively on her shoulder, his presence steady, unmovable.

"We're here," I said. "All of us."

She nodded slowly.

Sbusiso hung back a little, giving space, his expression unusually serious. No jokes. No teasing. Just respect.

Onthatile finally left the water and joined us, water dripping from her legs as she wrapped a towel around herself.

"Family first," she said simply.

And that was it.

No speeches. No explanations.

Just people coming together in a moment that demanded softness instead of noise.

As the morning stretched on, I stayed close to Andile, his hand in mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles like a quiet promise.

Love existed here.

So did grief.

And somehow, we were learning to hold both at the same