When I got to my room, I closed my bedroom door behind me, and a river of tears came rushing out. I was sobbing while desperately trying to tear the clothes Shokwakhe had bought for me with my bare hands, but they were damn strong. I finally grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting them, I even cut the pink suit he had gotten me first. After about thirty minutes, I was lying in the rubble while sobbing silently.

After a while, the door opened slowly.

“Mother, please,” I said without looking up.

“Sizwe,” a voice said, and when I looked up, I saw Shokwakhe, and he was standing there, looking so perfect.

“What do you want?” I asked, still lying on the floor.

“Stand up,” Shokwakhe responded.

“You came all the way upstairs to tell me to stand up?” I asked.

“Can we talk?” he responded.

Before responding, I sat up and stared at him. “About what?” I asked, then sniffed.

“Us,” Shokwakhe responded, kneeling down.

“What about us? You have a wife and kids,” I said.

“That doesn’t make me love you any less,” Shokwakhe said, wiping my tears with his thumb.

“Love?” I shouted.

“Shhhhhhh,” Shokwakhe said, then he kissed my lips, and I got taken by his love all over again. How could I hate the man?

After a while, we both managed to slowly stand up. We then kissed some more, and his left hand was caressing my butt, while his right hand undid his trouser. He then pulled his trousers down, and almost ripped off my jeans. I did not resist, and he roughly but passionately made love to me while his other hand covered my mouth to prevent any moans from escaping my lips.

***

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