I sit down to savour the plan. I must say that it is extensive. “I’m hungry,” I declare all of a sudden. “Can we go get something to eat?”

Blessing chuckles. “My plan is making you hungry, eh?”

I nod, smiling. “Let’s go, it’s getting dark anyway.”

He grabs his phone, car keys and the drive. I raise an eyebrow quizzically at him. “You can never be careful enough,” he tells me. I nod.

We drive for half an hour into town. The breeze tantalises my face and blows my hair off my face as I look out the window. You’d be surprised at how much you learn to appreciate the little things when you no longer have them. I never even observed the wind before, but now it feels like a luxury.

Sadly, it occurs to me that tonight might be the last night that I inhale air into my lungs. Blessing and I might be killed tonight. By tomorrow we could be dead. This thought saddens me. There’s so much I want to do with my life, despite losing Mark. I still want to see my Mom one more time, to love one more time. I want to make love for the first time. I stop my train of thoughts lest I start crying.

I smile and start waving at strangers who seem perplexed at my enthusiasm. “What are you doing?” asks Blessing.

“I’m living in the moment!” I scream.

We stop at a diner. I put my cap on before we walk in. When we receive our order I ask Blessing for a favour. “Can we eat here please?” I ask. He reminds me of the danger of doing this. “I know,” I say, “but it might be our last time. Oh please, Lifa Gift Malope.” I grin hopefully. Reluctantly, he agrees. We choose a corner booth. The small restaurant is fairly empty.

“You’re very strange.” Blessing declares. “In the face of danger, possibly death, you want to eat at a small diner and wave at strangers. Most people would be falling apart right now.”

“This is my way of falling apart,” I beam, digging into my rice and chicken stew.

“You don’t have to come along to the meeting you know,” he says with a grimace.

I shake my head. “No matter what the dangers are, I am going to make sure that Mark’s killers get punished for what they did. Those families are going to get decent houses and I am going to finish what I’ve started,” I tell him sternly. He acquiesces immediately. We buy take away food for tomorrow.

When we reach the car I stop outside my door. “What now?” Blessing asks, worried.

“I want to see Mark,” I state in a matter-of-fact way.

Blessing’s eyes shoot open and he’s momentarily bewildered. “Mark! What do you mean you want to see Mark?” I’ve never seen him startled before – he’s funny in a not funny way.

I burst out laughing, leaning on the car for support. He strides around the car and stands in front of me, looking totally lost.

“I know Mark is gone, Blessing,” I say, “but I meant his grave. I’ve never been there and if tomorrow I die, I want him to know that I’m coming to him.” I’ve ceased laughing for the most part.

Blessing recovers from his shock. “We can’t go there,” he says.

“You don’t have to go, but I am going and I am not asking for your permission,” I say stubbornly.

“Alex…” he begins.

“No Bless, this is important to me,” I insist. “I have to do this. I didn’t have the opportunity to say goodbye to him. Please Bless, please, please…” I beg. I slide my arms around his neck so that they touch at the back. I unleash my secret weapon. I know it’s wrong to play on his emotions, especially after our encounter this morning, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. “Please,” I continue relentlessly, “I won’t ask you for anything else.”

I plant a soft kiss on his lips but he doesn’t respond. We’re so close that our foreheads are almost touching. I look deep into his eyes. His pupils are dilating. Without breaking our eye contact, I kiss him again. Finally, he responds. I feel his hand gliding around my waist as he deepens the kiss.

I love this moment. We’re two people without a care in the world, embracing on the side of the road. It’s so simple and innocent and normal. In that moment, I forget about my ploy to get Blessing to do my will. It transforms into a genuine moment between a man and a woman. I also realise that I have developed feelings for Blessing, just as he has for me.

“Wow,” I murmur, feeling dizzy from the kiss. I mean, let me tell you, Blessing really is a great kisser.

“What was that?” he asks.

“I really honestly love kissing you, Bless,” I tell him.

He smiles shyly. “I love the way you’ve shortened my name.” Now it’s my turn to blush. “Do you really want to go to Mark’s grave?” he reminds me. I nod earnestly.

Gracefully, he drives for another half hour to take me to the location of the graves.

“You know Mark is not really there, right?” Blessing says, as he walks me to Mark’s grave. It’s dark, but luckily for us the moon provides a dim light and the air is warm.

“This is the closest I can get to being able to talk to him,” I retort. I don’t know why Blessing would say that to me now. Obviously Mark is not alive, but his body was laid to rest here. He stands at a distance while I kneel over the grey marbled stone that’s housing the evidence that my Mark once was. The head of the stone reads: “Mark Mbuso Lukhele. A son and a loved one, gone too soon. 1992-2016.”

Our memories overflow in my mind, from the time we met to the last time I saw him alive, which ironically was on our 3-year anniversary. I remember our happy moments: the sounds of our laughter echo in my head, and our sad times are silent. We fought fiercely and we made up with the same fervour. We played and we danced in the rain in my yard. We had study sessions that ended up in making out sessions. We did almost everything. We had everything except the future we had planned together.

“What am I supposed to do now, Mark?” I sob. “Things shouldn’t have ended this way. We were supposed to make it out alive, together.” I feel the burning ache in my chest. “I’m so sorry I let you die. I should have fought harder to stay alert and attend to your wounds until help arrived. This was all my fault,” I sniff in a very unladylike manner.

“We should have made love that morning, Mark. You would have gone with a part of me and I would have remained with a part of you in me.” I lay my head on the slab and weep. “I love you, comrade. With any luck, tomorrow we’ll be together forever.”

After a moment of letting me cry, Blessing comes to get me. “Come, let’s go now,” he says, picking me up and carrying me in his arms. I bury my face in his shoulder. He deposits me in the backseat of the car and I curl up into a ball. Blessing drives us back to our secret location, and I note that one way or the other, it’s our last trip. If we get killed, none of us will drive anywhere. If things go according to plan, then I’ll be going home. My already sour mood takes a nosedive at the thought that it might be the last time I lay my eyes on Blessing.

The car comes to a stop. “We’re here,” he says, opening the rear door for me. I walk to the house feeling completely drained. Taking off only my shoes, I sneak into bed and attempt to close my eyes and sleep. Minutes later, Blessing joins me. I crawl into his arms. “Is it possible for me to call my Mom tomorrow?” I whisper with a croaky voice.

“Sure,” he says. I wonder if Blessing has anybody he could call to say goodbye. He doesn’t want to talk about what’s happening with his mother, and his father has passed.

***

Tell us what you think: Are Alex’s fears and emotions justifiable? How would you feel if you were in her shoes?