Melusi



Melokuhle’s innocent gesture of inviting Zandile to dinner stirred up a whirlwind of emotions in me. It wasn’t Melokuhle’s fault; she didn’t know about the complicated history between Zandile and me. But Zandile knew better. Why did she have to accept the invitation when she could have easily declined, saving us all from this tangled reunion?

We arrived early at the designated time, hoping to gather my thoughts and calm my nerves. Minutes later, Zandile walked in, wearing a beautiful black dress that hugged her curves bouncing gracefully with each step she took. Her hair was elegantly styled, adding to her charm. She looked just as stunning as the day we first met five years ago when we bumped into each other and she took my breath away.

“Sorry I’m late,” Zandile apologised, taking the seat beside me and placing her bag on the floor.

“It’s okay,” Melokuhle replied, engaging Zandile in light conversation, blissfully unaware of the complicated past between us.

I let them talk, my eyes fixed on Zandile. She wore minimal makeup, enhancing her natural beauty. Deep down, I knew I would eventually run into her, but I hadn’t prepared myself for this moment. Seeing her again brought back all the effort I had put into trying to forget her.

“He was quite something,” Zandile shared, her laughter tinged with memories we once shared.

Melokuhle laughed along, entertained by Zandile’s stories about our university days. Zandile glanced at me, a small smile on her lips. To an outsider, it might have seemed like a genuine smile, but I sensed the underlying sadness behind it. “You’ve found a good man,” she remarked.

Melokuhle looked at me, her eyes filled with love, and nodded in agreement. “I know,” she said, briefly resting her head on my shoulder.

Zandile cleared her throat, as if holding back the pain that threatened to resurface. “So, how did you two meet?” she asked, taking a bite of her steak.

I looked at Melokuhle, who shrugged, understanding the delicate nature of our unusual story. How would it sound to say that I had kidnapped her and later fell in love? We hadn’t discussed how we would explain our meeting to others.

Awkwardly, I cleared my throat. “We, uh… we met through her father,” I stumbled through my words, technically I was not lying since her father owed me a large sum of money in the past, and I had taken Melokuhle hostage to make sure that I get it.

“And how long did you date before getting engaged?” Zandile inquired, her eyes fixed on me.

“We dated for five months, and then he proposed. We had to get married quickly due to some unexpected obstacles,” Melokuhle chimed in, conveniently skipping the part where her father locked her in her room and strongly opposed our union.

“Wow,” Zandile simply said, sipping her wine. “That’s nice. Excuse me for a moment, I need to use the bathroom,” she abruptly announced, getting up from her seat.

“She seems nice,” Melokuhle commented, unaware of the underlying tension.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice barely audible. I didn’t trust myself to say more, afraid that my words would come out recklessly, betraying the truth that kept me awake at night—how Zandile still occupied my every thought.

In the midst of our conversation, Zandile returned, but just as she did, Melokuhle’s phone started ringing persistently. Apologising, Melokuhle excused herself, leaving me alone with Zandile. The room suddenly felt charged with an indescribable energy, as if the universe had conspired to bring us together to watch us squirm around each other.

“You seem happy,” Zandile remarked, her gaze elsewhere, avoiding direct eye contact.

“Hey,” I said softly, gathering the courage to reach out and gently place my hand on top of hers. In that instant, a surge of electricity coursed through my veins, as though our touch had awakened a dormant power. She looked down at our hands, then lifted her eyes to meet mine, acknowledging the connection we both felt. I swallowed back whatever words I had intended to say.

Feeling overwhelmed, I quickly withdrew my hand, nodding in agreement. “She makes me happy.”

Zandile’s voice carried a hint of sadness as she spoke, “Would it matter if I told you that I am anything but happy?”

Frustration surged within me. “That’s not fair,” I responded, my voice filled with a mix of hurt and accusation. “You were the one who chose to leave me, the one who denied me a chance to visit. I was here, juggling the demands of building my own company and school, yet I still made time for you. Did you make time for me?”

Zandile opened her mouth as if to respond, but then closed it again, leaving the words unspoken.

“So what was I supposed to do?” I continued, my voice trembling with emotion. “Was I meant to stay in an uncertain relationship while you were busy forging your own path and making a name for yourself in Canada?”

A flush of heat rose to Zandile’s cheeks, anger evident as she glared at me with her piercing eyes. Even in her anger, she remained undeniably beautiful. “Fine, I made mistakes too,” she finally admitted, her voice a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. “I had my own meaningless flings, but I didn’t marry any of them.”

Before I could unleash the torrent of thoughts brewing within me, Melokuhle entered the room, breaking the tension that enveloped us.

Taking her seat, she noticed the palpable unease in the air. “Thanks for dinner,” Zandile quickly interjected, getting up from her chair. “But, uh, I just remembered that I made plans with my friends.” Her words stumbled out, and she hurriedly left the room.

Left with unspoken words and lost appetites, Melokuhle turned to me, confusion evident on her face. I shrugged, unable to express the depth of emotions swirling within me.