“Mah”, Mfundo calls out to me as he eats his breakfast and I finish up tidying up the kitchen. 

“Yebo Mfundo”, I answer, but don’t quite look at him. 

“You haven’t been okay since ubaba came back from Mbali’s grave with uMah-ka-Mbali. Did something happen?” He asks me. 

I sigh because honestly, I don’t know what to tell him. His dad hasn’t been okay since he came back from Mbali’s grave. I have been feeling him drift away from me. It’s been a week and we haven’t spoken about it. He comes home after I’ve gone to bed and by the time I wake up, he’s gone. He will come back to get Mfundo around 7am to take him to school because I cannot drive anymore. 

“Talk to me, mah. What’s going on?” Mfundo persists. 

“Him going to the cemetery with Sindi made me question a lot of things, one of those things being if Mbali would be happy to see me with her dad. Who I was when she was alive is different to who I am now. I was her domestic worker and the nanny that looked after her and Siya. Now, I’m the reason her parents are divorced and I’m her step-mother. I wonder if this would have hurt her. And I wonder if Mthunzi thinks about this too. I’m wondering if we made the right decision”, I say. 

“Is that the reason you agreed for him to go with uMah-ka-Mbali?” Mfundo asks me. 

I nod my head then I say, “I honestly have no right to stop it. Mbali is what they shared and that will never change. Mthunzi and Sindi going to the grave together reminded me that they’ll always have Mbali and that is a part of Mthunzi that I will never share in”. 

He nods his head and eats his food. 

Then he says, “For what it’s worth mah, I think Mbali would be happy that our father is happy. My sister-the Mbali that I knew- she would have never hated you.” 

The morning flies by and before we know it, Mthunzi is here to pick him up and take him to school. I use this time to shower because Mthunzi and I are not exactly missing each other. 

When I am done showering, I go to sit in the TV room and lift my legs. I cannot wait to give birth to this child. I have a few weeks left of this pregnancy and I just want this baby out. I am honestly just tired. 

My domestic worker arrives. She briefly greets me then goes to get started with her cleaning. 

I get a call. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi. Is this Koena Msomi?” The polite lady asks. 

I’m still not used to being called Koena Msomi. I like it, but I’m not used to it. Mthunzi just paid lobola and we went to sign at home affairs. I was not prepared to be a pregnant bride. We will have the wedding after the baby arrives. 

“Yes it is. Who is this?” I ask. 

“Ma’am, you are speaking to Tarryn White. I am phoning you from the K-pable-C Beauty Bars. This is in connection with your application for the brand coordinator role”, she says. 

“Yes, hi Tarryn. Thank you for getting back to me”, I say.

“Mrs Msomi, we have a better fit for the coordinator role, but there is a role that we believe you would be best suited for considering your qualifications and experience”, she says. 

“Okay, I’m listening”, me. 

“Our international beauty bar line is coming into South Africa and we will be opening stores in fifteen different regions, for now, to pilot the landing of the brand. We would like you to manage our Fourways branch. You will be the store manager. You will be given an assistant brand manager, but you will have final sign-off on most things, including brand-related matters. There is a standard look and feel we want our beauty bars to have, but you will have carte blanch on the rest.” 

This lady is going on and on and my heart is already dancing. Yes! I’m taking the job. Hell yes! Now this baby really needs to land. 

I give Tarryn my resounding yes when she is done talking. She explains that she will email me further documents. The store should be up and running in the next six months. That’s perfect for me because I will take it as maternity leave. But there is training that I have to attend. It’s three months of training on management and branding. I am excited. 

I am making myself some lunch when Mthunzi walks into the house. This is different. He has been avoiding me for the past week. I never imagined him walking in when he knows that I am home and without Mfundo. He sees the shock on my face as we stare at each other. 

“Hey”, he greets me. His tone and spirit are deflated. 

“Hello”, I say. 

“What are you making?” He asks me. 

“Lunch”, I say. 

“Please make me some as well”, he says. 

I nod my head then I continue to make food. He disappears from the kitchen. I hear the TV go on, so I conclude that he is in the TV room. I have a feeling that Mfundo told him about our conversation and now he is here to reassure me that he loves me. I’m not ready for this, honestly. 

I walk to the TV room with a tray filled with two plates of food and two glasses of juice. I put the tray on the large rectangular coffee table in front of our couches then settle next to him on our big couch. 

“Thank you”, he says to me. He is actually looking at me – really looking at me.

I nod my head. 

I take my plate and start eating. 

“I spoke to Mfundo”, he says. 

I thought as much. 

“Mrs Msomi, I wasn’t happy in my marriage with Sindiswa. I’m not with you because my marriage didn’t work. I’m with you because I love you. You are not the reason that my marriage came to an end. My marriage ended long before you and I started seeing each other. I chose you because I love you. I married you because you are the woman that I love, want to be with and want to build with. Choosing you, loving you and marrying you are the three best decisions that I’ve ever made in my life. Baby I love you.” He says. 

“What happened when you and Sindi went to Mbali’s grave?” I ask him. 

“She fell apart. She didn’t take it well at all. I was just there for her”, he says.

“You were there for her how?” I ask. 

“I didn’t sleep with her if that’s what you are asking”, he says.

“You were there for her how, Mtunzi?” I repeat my question. 

“I hugged her. I held her as she was falling apart.” He says.

This hurts me a bit and he sees it. 

“So, you connected with her again?” Me. 

“Don’t do that”, he says.

I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to cry. I stand up from the couch and walk to the guest restroom. It is the closest restroom right now. I lock the door. I get emotional, but not hysterical. I cry a little then I pull myself together. 

I step out of the restroom and find him leaning against a pillar in the middle of our living room. 

“Come here”, he says to me, already extending his arms at me. 

I walk straight to him and he embraces me. We stay locked in each other’s arms and in silence for a few minutes. 

“I love you. I’m sorry if I don’t show that to you enough. Love, I’m your husband. I’m the one you come to when you are hurt or when you are feeling insecure. I’m the one you come to when things don’t make sense and you want answers. You have a right to answers to anything in my life. You are my wife. Come to me, love. Please.” He says. In other words, leave Mfundo out of this. 

“I felt like I was losing you. You came back and couldn’t even spend more than three minutes with me”, I say. 

“I was hurting. Going to Mbali’s grave always does this to me. Baby, she was my daughter. I can never get used to her being gone. I’m sorry if I pushed you away. That’s the last thing I wanted to do”, he says. 

“You should have come to me. You should have been vulnerable with me. I am your wife. You don’t shut me out when you are hurt. You don’t shut me out when you go through stuff. You come to me and we deal with it. We love each other through everything”, I say. 

I feel him nodding his head. 

“You need to trust me with everything. I am your wife”, I say. 

He is nodding his head.

“I love you”, I say.

He pulls my head up towards him and he kisses me. 

The baby kicks and he feels it too. We stop kissing, look at each other and giggle. 

We hug. 

He pulls me to the couch and we start eating. 

“I got a job”, I say.

He looks at me unimpressed. Does he actually want me to just be a housewife? I tell him about the K-pable-C Beauty bar job and the training I’d have to do. He is not against it, but he does admit that he wanted me to be home with the baby for at least a year. I tell him we will be okay.

“By the way, your mom is arriving next week. She phoned me telling me she will take the bus. I told her I’d drive down with Mfundo and fetch her. She’s coming up with your dad”, he tells me. 

“Why would she phone you and not me?” I ask. My mom is weird.

“I don’t know. I guess she loves me”, he says and chuckles. 

They do love him. Sometimes, I think they love him more than they love me.

“I have to go back to work love. I’ll try knock off early and just spend the evening with you, okay?” He says.

I frown.

“And now?” 

“Do you have to go?” I ask him. I really don’t want him to go. 

He chuckles. 

“I do, baby. But I’ll do my best to come back early. Things are really hectic at the office”, he says. 

“And if I cry?” 

“No, don’t do that. Please. Okay, you want to go to the office with me?” He asks me. 

“That place is so dry. What will I do when you work?” 

“Baby, I really have to go to work. You are welcome to come with me.” 

“And if I give you sex?” 

He laughs aloud. He is saved by our domestic worker coming into the room and asking me for something. He kisses me and leaves the house.