I wake up to the sound of the television playing, and Mphikiseni singing to a Zulu song. He sounds happy. I listen as his deep voice spreads across the room, providing me warmth, and giving me faint butterflies in my stomach.

I walk to the kitchen and find Mphikiseni singing loudly, dancing to the song playing. He is a very handsome man. He is very tall, dark, muscular and he looks like a model. He is a traditional Zulu man, and he has the traditional wrist bands (isiphandla) to show for it. I watch hungrily, as his waist moves slowly to the beat, thinking when he last touched me. Intimacy, another dead factor in my marriage and home.

“You’re awake.” Mphikiseni says, as he spots me standing next to the door. He stops smiling, and his eyes look sad and sympathetically at me.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” He asks, and turns down the volume. His eyes are focused on my face, I know he tries by all means to avoid my pregnancy.

“Not at all, Mzilikazi.” I smile gently at him. “If anything, I liked watching you dance, my love.”

“Thanks.” He smiles at me.

“You look happy.” I say, and walk towards him.

“How are you?” He avoids my statement

“I’m okay.” I brush my stomach sadly, then look up at him.

He glances down at my stomach and his eyes glisten with tears, he breathes heavily and glances away.

“I have to get to work.” He takes his lunch box and walks to the door.

“Can I.. get..a hug?” I hesitate.

He looks at me, smiles briefly and walks towards me. I stand there, waiting to feel my husband’s weight against me. I close my eyes, feeling excited. He comes towards me and envelops me in a hug, I take in his scent. He pulls away almost immediately.

“I’ll be late.” He quickly walks out.

“I love you!” I shout after him.

He says nothing, instead I hear the car opening and closing. I sigh heavily and walk to the fridge.