Melusi



My heart pounds in my chest as I press the intercom repeatedly, desperate to reach Melokuhle.

“Melokuhle!” I shouted, hoping that she can hear the pain in my voice, no response came. With my attempts to communicate going unanswered, I knew I had to take a risk to make things right.

Ignoring any potential danger, I climbed over the giant wall that separated us. Fear of falling and getting hurt faded into the back of my mind, I have to find her and tell her how sorry I am.

When I reached the front door, I knocked, knowing my actions were trespassing on her privacy, what more choice do I have here. I need to reason with her, to make her understand how much I regret my mistakes.

The door swung open, and Melokuhle’s father stood before me, blocking my entry. Anger and frustration rose inside me, seeing him made it hard for me to contain my emotions. “You bastard,” I exclaimed, pointing a finger at him. “You destroyed my marriage.”

Steven smirked, folding his arms. “No,” he retorted, “You did that all by yourself.”

“Let me talk to Melokuhle,” I pleaded, desperate to reach her and explain my actions.

He looked down on me with hatred, revealing his long-standing dislike for me. “I never liked you,” he admitted coldly. “You kidnapped my daughter and took advantage of her during her Stockholm syndrome. Did you really think I would allow you into my family?”

His words struck like daggers, and anger consumed me. “You son of a bitch,” I seethed, standing nose to nose with him. “You don’t want to get into a war with me, Steven.”

He laughed, stepping back with a mocking smile. “And you think I’m afraid of you?”

Fuelled by my emotions, I pushed past him and entered the house, determined to find Melokuhle.

But as I reached the living room, my anger waned when I saw her curled up like a ball on the couch, resting on her mother’s lap. The sound of her crying broke my heart, as I approached her cautiously.

“Melokuhle,” I whispered, my voice trembling with sorrow. The sniffles and sobs stopped, she slowly lifted her head, her tear-filled eyes locking with mine. The pain and hurt reflected in her gaze mirrored my own, and I knew that this was only the beginning of the difficult journey to heal the wounds I had caused.