Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Ntandoyenkosi Zulu

After making love we'd drifted into a light sleep, the baby curled beside us like a small question mark. A whole me… with a kid? It still wasn't clicking. I'd always been careful. Always.

I slid out of bed quietly so I wouldn't wake either of them and padded into the living room. My phone buzzed — Senzo. I answered.

"Sho, bafo," I said.

"Sho. I sent the details," he replied.

"Okay, let me check them out."

I opened our chat. There it was — a name, a number, a few lines of background. I stared at the screen for a long time before pressing call.

It rang once, twice, then: "Hello?"

"Hello," I said.

"Who am I speaking to?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" My voice came out harder than I meant.

"Ohh hi, lover," she said, voice syrupy.

I chuckled bitterly. "Yolisa… I told you to abort. Why are you making your problems my problems? Come fetch your child or I'm giving him up for adoption."

Before she could answer, I hung up and clicked my tongue, pacing the room. I wasn't ready to be a father. I wasn't ready for any of this.

I turned to head back to the bedroom, but froze. She was there — Hlelolenkosi — standing in the doorway, arms folded, eyes unreadable. She'd heard everything.

Her voice was steady, but it shook the walls.

"My child is not going anywhere. Uyangizwa, uTshegofasto? He is not going anywhere. So if anyone has to leave, it will be you."

She took a step closer.

"This child didn't ask to be born. You better step up, Ntando. You better. But even if you don't, that child is mine. Ungangijwayeli kabi ke mina, hawu nimusukele when he was in heaven and you brought him here, now you don't want to take responsibility? Shame on you people."

Her words landed like stones. She wasn't shouting, but her voice carried the weight of something that couldn't be ignored — a kind of courage I'd never seen in her before.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. All I could do was stare at the baby's tiny socks on the armrest, at the flowers still in the vase on the table, at the woman in front of me who looked like she was ready to raise the world if no one else would.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like the man in control of everything. I felt like a boy caught out, standing on the edge of a life I wasn't prepared for.