Zandi is flipping channels, hoping for something that will grab her attention. She has been stuck on the news since four or five minutes back. She remembers hearing the bulletin’s opening tune. The weather guy is talking, gesticulating, even. It must be about the weather, surely. “Only on the midday news would you see someone speak so animatedly about the weather,” she murmurs.

The door rattles to a knock.

“Ngena!” she shouts on the second knock.

The door swings open. Zandi has her eyes fixed on it. She wonders who the person at the other side of it could be. In comes Lindiwe, her friend, and neighbour. She doesn’t close the door behind her. Just as Zandi is about to demand that Lindiwe closes the door, someone else comes in. Zandi removes her feet off the sofa and she sits up straight.

“Sorry to come without a booking on a weekend, Mngani,” Lindiwe says, pulling the door closed behind her and her companion. “Is uSbali here?” she whispers.

“uSbali? Haai bo!” Zandi answers. She stretches her left hand out, emphasising the ring finger through movement. “Do you see anything here?” Lindiwe shakes her head disagreeing. “Then there’s no brother in law yet. Let’s just say there’s a friend with a few special benefits.” She looks coquettish, a smile on her face. “Actually, I’m meeting him for a drink tonight. We are going to Vuyo’s.”

“I hear you, Mngani,” Lindiwe seems to be moving the conversation along. “This is my friend Sli. Sli, this is Zandi, the wonder-woman I was telling you about.” Lindiwe turns to Zandi again. Sli needs her hair done like yesterday, that’s why we’ve come so late.”

Zandi marvels at Sli’s evenly-toned structure. She stares openly, thinking that Sli’s body looks like that of a mannequin. Her legs are long and athletic and shiny. To say that she has a beautiful body is an understatement. Her floral dress emphasizes her round buttocks and voluminous breasts. Zandi almost blurts out “Oh my God!” looking at her face. She can swear that Sli’s dark, blemish-free skin was simply pasted onto her perfect cheekbones.

Zandi plaits Sli in complete silence. Sli’s phone won’t go quiet. Zandi steals a look over the shoulders of her new client. She sees ‘Love of my life’ at the top of Sli’s phone. Sli types with a giggle on her face. Zandi can’t see enough of the texts to make out what is written on the phone’s screen. She thinks it’s romantic because it has kissing and blushing-face emojis as full stops. She observes, curiously, it’s only Sli’s texts that are laden with emojis. Nothing of the sort from Mr ‘Love of My Life’. This reminds her of Sthe. She remembers teaching him: “You’ve used an emoji; a full stop is no longer necessary.” She remembers him saying, “I need an emojictionary,” joking about his illiteracy on the matter.

“Yo, Sli, please. We know you and Mr Bae are flaming hot these days but please, you are with us. Be with us. Don’t make us make an appointment to talk to you when you are right here.”

“I’m sorry, friend,” Sli offers to Lindiwe. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Zandi watches as Sli slips the phone into her burgundy handbag. She notices that this elegant lady’s floral dress matches both her purplish heels and handbag. She notices an almost invisible ‘LV’ across the face of the bag. Her awe of Sli is renewed. She wishes she was to Sthe what she thinks Sli is her boyfriend – a girlfriend and an elegant accessory in his arms.

“No offense taken,” says a smiling Lindiwe. “But I’m happy for you, friend. If there’s anyone who deserves marriage on a platter, it’s you, my friend.” Sli simply smiles.

Zandi is plaiting and not uttering a word again, Lindiwe observes. She senses discomfort on the part of their host.

“How are things with you, Zandi?” Lindiwe asks. “How’s the man of this house?”

“The man of this house?” Zandi rolls her eyes. “Don’t you mean men of this house? If it’s Aya and Shelo, you are talking about, they are a handful but okay.”

Yes, Zandi wonders. How is Sthe? She hasn’t heard from him the whole week. A bolt of jealousy struck her when she saw Sli gushing over her boyfriend’s text. If there’s one thing Sli’s boyfriend and Sthe have in common, she learned watching over Sli’s shoulder, is chatting via texts. She can remember going to bed hours past midnight, all thanks to Sthe’s never-ending texts, especially right at the beginning, nearly eighteen months ago now.

“How long have you and your boyfriend been dating for?” Zandi just blurts out the question. She regrets it the minute she spits it out.

“Two years,” she says. Two years in total. Sthe and I have been on and off for two years.”

Just then Sli’s phone chimes with an incoming call. ‘Love of my life’ is splashed across the screen. Also splashed on the screen is a picture of the said love of Sli’s life. Zandi knows she’s not mistaken. It’s Sthe. Her Sthe.

Tell us: Tell us your reaction to this bombshell…? If you think back, were there clues about Sthe that you can interpret in a different way?