With people coming back to work now and accommodation opening, work is becoming good again. I am very busy. I need help. My tender work is piling up and I’m five minutes away from losing this tender. My beauty bars are in serious debt. That man-stealing witch quit on me and you know what, I’m done begging her ass. I am in the process of hiring a PA who can do what that witch was doing. I am thinking of selling my beauty bars and just make some money basically. 

The tender – George has made a plan for the tender person to come receive sexual favours so I keep the tender. The hotel though, it’s doing well. George is doing well for me. I am in a good place. 

My son is also getting used to living in Diepkloof now. I just don’t want him to be one of those township low-lives. George, trying to be more involved but not revealing himself to Siya as Siya’s father, has advised that we just enrol him in club sports. This should keep him off the township streets. 

I miss Pearl. I haven’t spoken to her since she and Tom parted ways officially. I worry that if I call her, she might take it as anything but me checking in on her out of concern. She was a bit of a cow, but she was one of my good friends. I miss just talking to her, but I do need to respect that I have to give her some space. 

“Ready?” George asks me as we both sign off some final documents for the hotel. 

“Sure”, I say. 

He walks me to a presidential suite and I know now that I have to do the rest. 

…

I stopped measuring the sizes of the penises I let into my body so I can have more money. They say that size does matter. I’ve met gifted men who do not know what to do with their gift. Me – I say sex is sex. These men’s routine is the same. They thrust in and out of me, sometimes sweat if they think they are putting in real work, then those who actually want me to participate will let me come on top and show them a good time. So have weird fetishes that I have to attend to. But within an hour, it’s all done and I have what I want. Some men don’t even last that long so it just feels like taking a half day at work. 

At some point, I enjoyed having sex with Mthunzi. Not because he is amazing, but because he actually made love to me. He expressed his love, care and passion for me in every kiss, touch and whisper. I looked forward to opening my legs for him because it wasn’t a job. I wouldn’t get money for it, I’d get cuddles afterwards and some pillow talk that would leave me laughing and light in spirit. Then those stopped and I suppose I deserved it. He deemed himself too good to touch me because George was touching me. If only he knew the reasons for George touching me, he would stop labelling me a whore and question the kind and size of man he is when as a married woman, I still had to have miscellaneous men having their way with my body so I could subsidize the maximum amount of money I could have with him. Pitiful!

This man is not finishing. He must have taken Viagra or something. Why isn’t this ending? He is heavy and he is tickling me at most. But hey, he will leave me with money that will see me through a lot, save my tender and help me pay people to do all the work now that I don’t have a Zelda and her perfection. So, let me lie here and think about Pearl – my friend whom I miss terribly. If I were still married to Mthunzi, he would give me an update on how Pearl is doing because he works for Thomas. That’s another thing I hated about Mthunzi. He was employed. He was not his own boss and I hated it. I don’t care how close he is to the CEO: he is to Thomas what Zelda was to me and I found it extremely unattractive. He was actually content with that and it bothered me. All he wanted for himself were promotions- not his own things. He was okay with putting in long hours and stress to grow another man’s empire. I never understood that. 

George, with all his flaws, is attractively powerful and I love how he makes things happen for me without having to wait until the end of the month to see if the budget will allow him to do what I needed him to do for me. 

My life has been better, financially, without Mthunzi. George has stepped up and helps me a lot, financially, with Siya. I live in a beautiful penthouse and Siya is in a brilliant school – better than he ever was in. My mom’s house is being renovated again and this time, it’s going from double-story to triple story. But I won’t lie, emotionally, I miss Mthunzi. He was good for that – the emotional stuff. He was amazing at fulfilling me and making me whole. I traded in fulfilment for financial security. I miss the fulfilment until I see how happy my son is, then I see why the sacrifice is worth it. 

I miss Mbali. I’m still unable to bring myself to going to her graveyard. I’m not strong enough. I’ll break. I just know it. But I know I have to go. I have to go see my daughter’s final resting place. Maybe I should call Mthunzi and ask him to go with me. I could do with the emotional TLC right now. 

I hear this one who’s on top of me moaning, screaming and his body shaking as if what we just did was life changing. Mxm!

He rolls off me and catches his breath. I roll out of bed and get a gown. I take a shower. By the time I come out of the shower, he has left the room. Good. But George is in here. 

“Hey”, I say. 

“I hope you have cleaned up for me”, he says. 

Oh fuck no! Seriously? I must lie there and take it again? And with George, I don’t just lie down and take it. I have to participate, fake orgasms, not use a condom and make him feel like he is the best I could ever have. I want to phone Mthunzi and ask him to accompany me to our daughter’s grave. 

But George is my boss, not my partner, so when he suggests that he wants sex, it is not a request and insubordination is not an option with George. 

He has already taken my robe off and he is already nibbling on my neck. His fingers are already inside my vagina. 

Sigh. 

George wanted company today. He wanted sex and fulfilment – the kind that I get from Mthunzi. He seems sad. It is an hour after our sex session and he is still in my bed being needy. 

“You okay?” I finally ask him. 

“How’s Siya?” He asks me. He is definitely not okay. He is deflecting from my question. But again, I’m not his partner. When he asks me a question, I answer his question. I am still at work and insubordination is not an option. 

“Siya is well. He is enjoying his new school a lot. I’m glad my brother is there and that we got him his car. I hated that transport situation Siya was using to get to school. I appreciate my brother taking him to school and fetching him everyday”, I explain. I’m being honest. With Siya, I think we can be partners. 

“I see. But you must be fair. If your brother must drive Siya to a school in the northern suburbs of Johannesburg then drop his own children in township schools, he will start growing resentment. He wants that education for his kids too. Every parent does. Talk to him about moving his kids to Siya’s school. I will take care of it”, he says. Now this I definitely did not expect. Even my brother will look at me like I am crazy when I tell him this. 

“Really?” I ask him, shocked. 

“Yes. It’s fair payment. That’s how you get employees to do their best at what they do for you. You take care of the things that matter the most to them”, he says. Of course he would say that. I just didn’t know that he took my brother as one of his employees. I’m actually feeling offended. But I cannot confront that. It’s George. I try again.

“George, you don’t seem okay. I don’t want to pry, but I am worried about you. What’s going on?” 

He rolls out of bed and gets dressed. 

“You not my fucken wife. Stay within your limits”, he leaves soon after saying this. 

…

“I didn’t know that we had still had anything that connected us for you to call me”, that’s how Mthunzi answers my call. 

“We don’t. I need your help though”, I say.

“With?” 

“I want to go to Mbali’s grave. I’ve been delaying it because I haven’t been emotionally ready. I still don’t believe that I am ready. That’s why I need you to please accompany me to her grave. We both lost her. I just need to do this and I need your support.” I say. 

He is silent. I know this has touched him in ways that I have never touched him. 

“Please, Mthunzi. I’m begging you”, I emphasize before he can change his mind. 

“I’ll talk to my wife and see what she says. I’m not willing to upset her because of you. But even if she agrees to this, it is the first and the last time that we are doing this. I hope I’ve made myself clear”, he says. 

“Okay. Thank you”, I say. 

“And I’ll meet you at the cemetery”, he says.

How cold. But hey, I wasn’t expecting hot chocolate. 

“Okay”, me. 

“In loving memory of our daughter, granddaughter and sister, Mbaliyekhaya Ntandokazi Msomi. 

May your soul rest in peace, Nomndayi.“

This tombstone is everything. I am already emotional. I look hot though. The dress I’m wearing is hugging my body beautifully. Then I did the Zelda look of doek and sneakers and you know what, I look hot. Even Mthunzi stared at me longer than he should have. But he is a disciplined husband, so I didn’t get so much as a “You look beautiful”. I just got a “Hi” and we walked to Mbali’s grave. Mthunzi looks yummy too. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he dressed up for me too. 

“MaMsomi, I am here with your mother, uSindiswa. As I’ve told you, she wasn’t able to come see your final resting place because she also had Covid-19. But she is here now. Nomndayi, I want you to understand that I will probably never come here with your mother again because as I have told you, we have decided to go our separate ways and I now have a new wife. I have also asked you to not turn your back on me from removing Siya from my life. I know that you loved your brother very much, but he wasn’t my son and I cannot claim what belongs to another man.” 

Is this man for real? How is he saying this to my dead daughter? Can he just let her rest in peace? Now my daughter must judge me from her grave? I don’t understand. 

“Keep resting in peace, my daughter. You are now safe with our ancestors, living in a place where you see what we cannot see here on earth. Koena, my wife, is about to have a baby. You knew her as Zelda. Mfundo, your brother, lives with us too. The family is growing, but we have never stopped thinking about you. We miss you.” 

I’m so hurt. I don’t even know what I am crying about anymore. Yes, I miss Mbali. But Mthunzi… he’s happy and he’s moved on and it hurts so badly. Must he really say all these things to my child and in my presence? 

“Keep being an ancestor of light in our lives. Be with our ancestors and keep the light burning for us, Nomndayi.” He says his clan names and when he is done, he spits on a stone and places it on the head of the tombstone. 

It is my turn to speak to my daughter now, but I cannot. I just fall apart. And you know what, Mthunzi hugs me. He comforts me. He embraces me. I fall apart, but my tears also have an element of thankfulness. I am home.