Junior

Sihle was fighting for her life; she had been fighting for the last four days. I wanted to stay by her side and never leave her bedside, but I had to make sure that Simbongile was caught and thrown back in jail and this time I only prayed that she stay there forever.

“This is the only footage we got from the local shop there,” the detective said, giving me the picture that they had printed out.

I looked at it. The person was wearing a cap. It was pulled so low on the person’s face that you couldn’t possibly know who it was. Anyone who didn’t know Simbongile wouldn’t tell that it was her, but I could see the resemblance of Simbongile just by looking at the grainy picture.

“You told the officer before that you suspect Simbongile.”

My spirit sank low; I already knew what he would say before he could even speak.

“Turns out she was home, the neighbours confirmed that they saw her and that they heard her singing.”

I sat back on the chair with defeat, realising that the police officers would never dig deep into this, because I was a man. If it were Simbongile in my shoes I would have been arrested a long time ago.

I thanked the detective and walked out of the police station. The sun was starting to set, and the cool wind of autumn was slowly starting to take place.

I looked at the time on the car dashboard; it was a little over 6. I was torn between going back to the hospital or just heading home and taking a bath first. I took the latter and went home. I needed hot water on my body, to wash off the day that I just had.

When I walked through the door, I was hit by the smell of a chicken being cooked. I frowned in confusion. Did Sihle’s mom come to cook for me since she knew that I was a terrible cook and would live on takeaways? I closed the door, took out my jacket, placed it on the coat hanger and went to the kitchen to greet my mother-in-law.
My heart stopped in my throat when I saw Simbongile chopping some onions, wearing an apron. She was standing there so comfortably like this was her place. I looked around a little; this was my place, I was not in the wrong house.

I looked at Simbongile as she continued chopping as if this was the most usual thing. “You’re back,” she said finally looking at me and smiling. “I was wondering when you were going to get back home,” she said in the sweetest voice, reminding me of the time we used to date.

If one were to look at her, they would not be able to tell that the woman standing in my kitchen wearing my wife’s apron was the devil herself. She looked so innocent that if they were told what she had done, people would call me a liar. I guess that’s why the police even fail to take me seriously.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, confused as to how she even got inside – I changed the locks a couple of days ago.

She shrugged her shoulders, batting her eyelashes at me. “I have been thinking about us.”

I sighed, “There’s no us, there hasn’t been an us in 3 years.”

“I know, it was because of Sihle, but Sihle will be out of the picture, and then it can be just you and me,” she said looking at me under her thick false eyelashes.

“It doesn’t work like that,” I said, shaking my head at her madness. I wondered how we ended here. Gone was the shy, sweet girl I once knew. Standing in front of me was a deranged person.

She looked at me with pure rage in her eyes. “But it did when you chose to cheat on me and ended up marrying my sister.”

“I’m sorry about the cheating and all the lies that I fed you, but you have to move on,” I said looking at her holding the counter. Perhaps now if she finally faced the truth she would leave me alone.

“Why should I do that?”

“Because I don’t love you,” I said. She looked at me with hurt in her eyes, but she quickly masked it.

She slowly picked up the knife and spun it on the table a little, balancing the handle with her finger. “You know what I want? I want you to feel every pain that I have ever felt when I heard that you were going to be marrying my sister. I want you to suffer so much pain that you beg me to stop. You will pay for every broken piece of my heart.”

I raised my hands “You can’t make me want you; it doesn’t work like that. I know I should have done better and told you the truth, I’ll forever regret not telling you the truth, I do, but this has to stop.”

She nodded. I lowered my hands when I saw her thinking about what I just said. “You are right.” I let out a sigh of relief.

“This has to stop.” my heart started racing when she walked to me with a knife in her hand “But if I can’t have you, no one else can.”