The smell of crunchy bacon wakes me. I wipe my eyes and yawn. Is this a dream? No, it isn’t, as I zoom into the scene again. I look around and see I am in Themba’s bed. I sense I’m naked, so I wear his shirt, which was on the bed. This is how Themba used to treat me back in those days. We were two lovers who couldn’t stay away from each other. Themba was madly in love with me, and I was so crazy in love with him too. I think he is using my room to cook.

“Stay in bed, my love,” he says.

He frightens me because I wanted to sneak away. He’s holding a tray with a mug of strong coffee and a plate with bacon, eggs and toast. He loves to cook for me. When he is working, I cook because he sometimes has two shifts a day.

“I wanted to scare you,” I said calmly.

“Eat, and we need to talk,” he sounds serious.

I take the tray and eat quietly while he goes to bathe. I go inside my bedroom and wash the dishes in the small basin. I dry them using a towel. Suddenly, I feel a slight throb on my wound. My hand is on my wound. I sit down on the bed and take a deep breath. Themba enters, looking at me.

“Are you okay?” he asks, touching my shoulder.

“It will go away, don’t worry,” I answer.

“Are you sure?” he asks curiously.

“Baby, I am fine,” I smile.

He sits close to me. He sighs and holds my hand. I start to feel nervous; maybe he wants us to break up again.

“Ashley, I have always loved you, but this will never work. This…us…I can’t stay near you without kissing or making love to you. You know I am dating someone,” he speaks gently.

Sadness is all over my face. Disappointment is crawling at my feet. I am devastated and hurt. How could he? He has led me on, knowing he would dump me again. He stands up and kisses my forehead and walks to the door.

“I’m moving out today, but I will visit you,” he says and leaves.

I sit down in tears. I just wish he only knew how much I treasure him. I sleep on my bed. I can hear noise outside, but I don’t move.

I wake up and take a bath and look through the window. I see Themba with three guys helping to shift his furniture. I switch on my television and watch anything.

Days pass, and I am feeling lonely. I write my book on my laptop while having morning sickness. I don’t want to face the world, so I stay indoors. My food is running out. I need to go shopping.

While taking a shower, I start to feel nauseous. I rush to the bucket and vomit. I breath heavily; it can’t be a bug. First morning sickness, now this. I can’t be pregnant.

I dress quickly and walk to the shops. I buy rice, noodles, sugar, coffee, bread, cheese, ice cream, peanut butter, vegetables, flour, chicken meat and soap. I return back, but I have forgotten the pregnant test. I am worried, though. Will Themba accept this? I don’t know, but I have to tell him.

Arriving home, it is the moment I have been waiting for. I rush to the bathroom and pour my urine in a small tin and place it in the pregnancy test. I go and make sandwiches with cheese and peanut butter. I’ve been craving it, so I am pregnant.

“No, Ashley, you have to wait for the test,” I murmur quietly.

I eat without feeling weird; I quickly eat as if I will die if I don’t give in to my needs. Then I check the test, and it shows two lines. I am pregnant. I can feel my heart screaming.

I don’t agree with the results, so I go to see a doctor who confirms the same thing. I write a message to Themba and tell him the news. He doesn’t respond. I then decide to keep the baby, whether he is here or not.

Days pass, and I sit in my room, writing on my laptop. I want my book published soon. I check my phone, but Themba hasn’t responded. I go to bed and sleep. I dream Themba is cooking for me, stir fry chicken and rice. He holds my tummy all the time, telling me he can’t wait for the baby to be born. We look happily in love.

I rub my eyes as I wake up and smell the food, and it feels and looks like in my dream. I look at the hot stove. Themba is there, holding a wooden spoon. I scream with joy. Tears run down my cheeks. Themba helps me to get up and kisses me.

“I have come back for good,” he whispers.

Oh, the baby has made us connect again. It does end here. He pays lobola to my family after a month. We get married at court while I am 6 months pregnant. We have a baby boy. Themba never abandons me ever again. He is my hero. One day I will be telling this story to my kids. I have written a story about it. My hero married me, and he is my soulmate, till death separate us.

MY HERO

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