“These days I can’t help but feel someone is watching me, watching us,” Monica said, and stood up, making her way to her kitchen.
“Maybe it’s just your paranoia because we are…you know,” Mandla said, putting his feet up on the coffee table.
“Don’t do that,” Monica said, gesturing to Mandla to take his feet off the table.
“OK,” Mandla put his hands up and removed his feet.
“I’m not being paranoid,” Monica said, taking two beers out of her double-doored refrigerator.
“Who could be watching? That impotent fool you call a husband?” Mandla said, laughing.
“He is not impotent.” Monica handed Mandla a beer and sat down.
“Then why aren’t you pregnant yet?” Mandla asked, smiling.
“We haven’t been trying for a baby,” Monica defended her husband of three years.
Mandla laughed and stroked his beard. He was tall and muscular. He had dark brown eyes, broad shoulders and a bald head. He was attractive, and he took pride in this.
“How do you drink this?” Mandla asked, and put the beer on the table.
“You wouldn’t understand,” Monica said, bringing the beer up to her lips and taking a huge sip.
“I prefer wine,” Mandla told her.
“I don’t like wine,” Monica replied.
“Yeah well, it’s an acquired taste,” Mandla said, smiling broadly.
“I think you should stop coming here,” Monica told her lover.
“I never wanted to come here anyway,” Mandla replied, rolling his eyes.
“You need to leave,” Monica said, finishing off what was left of her beer.
“We haven’t…you know,” Mandla said, kissing her neck.
“Stop, Mandla. My husband will be home soon,” Monica stood up, and grabbed Mandla’s beer and started sipping it.
Mandla stood up slowly and walked out.
Monica looked up to see her husband coming in. He looked tired, his tie was undone and his shirt tuck out.
“Evening, love,” Mojalefa said, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter.
“How are you?” Monica kissed his cheek.
“Tired,” Mojalefa said, and walked towards the stairs.
“Why don’t you go freshen up, while I serve dinner?” Monica said, putting plates on the table.
Mojalefa nodded and slowly walked up the stairs.
He came back up after 15 minutes, looking a lot better than when he came in.
“You look better,” Monica smiled at him.
“I feel better,” Mojalefa sat down. “How was your day?” he asked her, slowly cutting his steak.
“Just my daily routine as a housewife. I woke up, bathed, ate, cleaned up, watched television, went jogging, came back and got refreshed, then started with dinner,” Monica lied.
Mojalefa nodded.
“Mom wants us to come see her this weekend,” he told her.
Monica let out a loud sigh. “Your mother hates me,” Monica said.
“Mom doesn’t hate you,” Mojalefa laughed briefly.
Monica sipped her juice, and shrugged. “She wants grandkids, Mojalefa,” Monica said.
Mojalefa looked at her.
“When the time is right.” Mojalefa put a mouthful of steak in his mouth.
“You don’t get to deal with her silent accusations, and she most certainly doesn’t call you infertile!” Monica almost shouted.
Mojalefa stood up. “I’m going to bed.” He went upstairs.
Monica washed the dishes.
When she came to bed, Mojalefa was already asleep. Monica kissed his cheek, then turned her back on her husband and closed her eyes.
***
Tell us: Do you feel sorry for Mojalefa since his wife is cheating on him?