Lydia

Now that I no longer stress about getting to work super early to over-impress ungrateful bosses, I swim every morning. I do a few laps just to wake up and activate the body. In the afternoons, I do a few kilometres on my treadmill. I need to keep this body fit. 

As I reach the edge of my pool to complete a lap that I have just done, I bring out my head from underneath the water and lift my goggles to the top of my swimming cap. I see him standing by my sliding door, leaning against the wall that my sliding door slides into. 

He comes here so often, the security guards just let him in at the gate. 
He smiles at me as he walks towards me. He is wearing a very nice tracksuit. I understand I suppose. It is, after all, 04H30. My helper comes into work at 06H00. 

He finally reaches the edge of my pool where our faces meet and we kiss. This man is so beautiful. He is so charming. At work, we don’t even talk to each other as much as you think we would. There are times where we do not even look at each other. But when he comes here, we are all we know. 
I climb out of the pool and he undresses me from my wet bikini. I undress him and right there, we make love. 

He is on top of me. As he thrusts inside of me, I moan. There is something very spiritual about what we are doing. It is amazing. 
Now, I am on top of him. He stares as I hump on top of him. He smiles at me. His smile turns into a moan as he grabs onto my thighs. Then his entire being releases him inside of me, Tom moaning and losing his breath all at the same time. 

I lie next to him as we both try to catch our breaths. 
Tom’s body is out of this world. He is a fit man. He looks mixed-race. Apparently his mother was British – before she passed on. He is deliciously tall and a beautiful man that looks to have walked out of a magazine. I can see why Pearl wants him all to herself. 

We jump into the pool and do a few more laps. They are playful really, not fitness at all. It is just after 05H30 when we get out of the pool and head into the shower. 
At 06H00, my domestic worker arrives. She already knows that when she prepares my outfits and shoes for the day, she does the same with Tom’s clothes. I prepare breakfast in a towel while Tom gets dressed. When he eats, I get ready for work. He leaves in his Uber, I leave in my car. His car is parked at the office. He usually parks the car there then ubers to my place. His car has never set foot at my place. 
…

I’m at my desk when Palesa arrives into the office, all smiles and chatting about with Pearl and Blake. Pearl spends a lot of time around Palesa. I am wondering if it has always been like this or if she is just keeping tabs on me. 

“Good morning”, Palesa greets her PA and myself. 
“Morning”, we both reply. 
Before we can say anything else, Thomas walks in. I can feel that all eyes are on me. I just glance at him once and not even smile. He does not even look at me. Once he has walked past my desk, he asks, “Where is this meeting happening?” 
His PA and Thando walk in as well. Palesa’s PA tells them which boardroom she booked and they all make their way in there. I am left alone and I just breathe. I’m just glad that people no longer suspect that we are sleeping together. 

An hour into their meeting, two people from the projects team come to my desk. 
“Elle”, Sbu says. The people around here call me Elle and not Lydia. 
“Hey guys”, me. 
“Where’s the warehouse chick?” Travis asks. 
Before I answer, Mushtak and Tyron walk in as well. 
What’s happening? 
“Are you free for lunch? We need to take you through a few things and run a few more past you.” Sbu says. 
“I just need to finish a report for Palesa. Can you give me ten minutes?” I say. 
“Sure”, Tyron says. These guys host a gathering around my desk as I push Palesa’s report. 

Palesa comes out, I suppose weirded out by the noise. She’s the “turn the workplace into the silence of a library” type. 
“And then?” Palesa enquires like a mother reprimanding her children. 
There is silence.
“Some of us are trying to work. What the hell is going on here?” Palesa is now raising her voice. 
“We just waiting for Elle to finish a report she’s doing for you then we taking her out to lunch. We need to run a few things past her”, Tyron replies like the white kid in class who is not afraid of talking back to the teacher. 
“Who’s Elle?” Palesa. 
“Lydia”, Sbu. 
“Elle is not going anywhere. When she is done with the report that she is busy with, I need her in the meeting I am in with the CEO. Schedule time in her calendar or meet with her in your own time”, Palesa says. 

I’m still typing my report because when she is done shouting at these guys, she will want her report as if she didn’t distract me like she is distracting me now. 

“But Palesa, this is work related. And we were strictly instructed by the CEO to prioritize this project”, Tyron. 
“Elle is my resource. My work takes priority in her life. My meetings take priority in her life. This project is also part of my work and takes priority as well.” Palesa says. 
“Palesa, please put that on email to us. We would like to share that with Mr Ramaru should he question us about the progress of this project”, Tyron. 
I love this guy! 
I chuckle under my breath. 
“Anything the matter?” Blake comes out and says, followed by Pearl and Tom. 
“We needed Elle for a few things concerning the project that Mr Ramaru told us to prioritize. Palesa has told us that Elle is her resource therefore her things take preference over this project. I was just asking Palesa to put that statement on email so that it is as clear as Mr Ramaru’s instruction to prioritize this project”, Tyron. 

Dear reader, we all need guts like Tyron. 

“Who is Elle?” Pearl. 
“Lydia”, Mushtak and Sbu reply simultaneously. 

Tom looks at Palesa. Palesa is, simply put, PISSED! She is also as shocked as a black person would be at the audacity of a young person to take a firm stance against an adult – a culture we definitely need to normalize and walls that we, as black people, need to break down. 

“Palesa, what do you need Lydia for that she cannot leave to assist these gentlemen?” Tom. 
“The reporting that needs to take place in the last half hour of our meeting”, Palesa. 
“Why can’t you or Blake do it? Lydia is operational. She is not an analyst, reporter or strategist.” Tom. 
Palesa is silent. 
“Do you have the report itself at least?” Pearl, throwing her best friend under the bus. 
“Lydia is putting it together for me”, Palesa says as she hangs her head in shame. 
“Lydia can you send that report to all of us? Blake and Palesa will take us through it. You can go with the projects team”, Pearl. 
I nod my head. 
“Clearly, Lydia is much more than just an intern around here. We clearly need to change her job title and pay her accordingly.” Tom says as he walks back to the boardroom. 

On cue, I send the report to everyone. Palesa and Pearl check their cellphones and see my email. Palesa releases me. 
The guys and I burst into laughter as we leave for our lunch meeting. 
…

The projects team bought pizza and fizzy drinks. I am off fizzy drinks, so I had warm water with my food. We worked with the rest of the team until 7pm. At 7pm, I make my way back to my desk to pack up and leave. I find Palesa in her office, crying. I don’t bother her. I pack up my stuff and my cellphone pings. 

“Still at the office?” It is an i-message from Tom. 
“Just packing up my things. I should be out of here in the next ten minutes“, I text back. 
“Okay. Come to this address.” He texts me. The text is followed with a location. 
“Okay“, me.

I take my bags and as I head out…
“Elle”, Palesa calls me. 
I turn around and look at her. 
“Do you have a minute?” She asks me. 
“Sure. Is everything okay?” Me. 
“We want to give you a promotion. Here in Gauteng. There is no need for you to go to the KZN office anymore. We will promote you to an operations specialist. Jeff will draft the paperwork. Can you be in the office at eight a.m tomorrow? We will talk through your role and new responsibilities as well as your new salary”, Palesa says. 
“Thanks so much, Palesa. I really appreciate this”, I say. 
She nods her head then says, “I am proud of you, Elle. I really am. You came here and pulled the bull by its horns. You show up every day and you get the job done. I am also proud of you for not letting whatever was going on between you and Tom continue. That was the kind of trouble that you did not need in your life. Keep it up.” Palesa. 

I just nod my head and say, “Thank you, Palesa. I will see you in the morning.” 

I leave. 

I arrive at the hotel that Tom told me to arrive at. I park my car in the parking lot then dial his number. 

“Baby”, him. 

“I am outside”, me. 

“Come to room 3290”, he says. 

“Okay”, me. I hang up and make my way into the hotel. I am received at the hotel reception. I am attended to by a concierge. I tell him that I am headed to room 3290. He looks at me, awkwardly smiles and says to me, “you must be Miss Khalo?” 

“Yes, that is me”. I say. 

“Okay. Where did you park your car, ma’am?” he asks me. 

“In the car parking lot”, I say. 

“May I please have your keys and I will go park it with the rest of our guests’ cars. I will also arrange to have your luggage brought up to your hotel room ma’am”, he says. 

I give him my keys and make my way up to room 3290. After a brief knock, I am welcomed in by Thomas. The room is romantically set up with rose petals everywhere and candle lights. There is also a dinner table that is set up for two. 

“What’s all this?” I ask him. 

“I just feel like spoiling you today. I also wanted to celebrate your promotion”, he says. 

I smile at him. 

“Congratulations, Miss Khalo”, he says. 

“Thank you, Mr Ramaru”, me. 

I walk into the room and we slow dance to the music that is playing in the background. Thomas is such a gorgeous man. He has the most incredible eyes that I have ever seen. His light mixed-race skin tone makes him seem so fragile yet so strong at the same time. His hair is perfectly set into a curly afro. I like the fact that he does not shave it all off. His arms are so warm. I feel so safe and warm. I cannot get too comfortable though. This is not my home. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asks me. 

“Nothing. I am just taking in this moment”, I lie. 

We have some dinner then cuddle on the bed together. 

“Why do you cheat on your wife so much?” I ask him in the still of our silence. 

His entire body tenses up. He does not answer me. Okay, let me start with a lighter, but still a harsh question. I need to know what I am working with here. 

“Why don’t you and Pearl have any children?” I ask him. 

His body is still tense, but he at least takes a deep breath and says, “Pearl does not want any more kids.” 

“Any more kids? So you have kids?” 

“She has a daughter back home from a high school sweetheart. She doesn’t have any kids with me. She doesn’t want any kids with me.”

“You married her knowing this?” Me. 

“I thought it was because of the trauma that she went through when our daughter passed away. She died when she was two days old. Pearl had not even woken up from the coma that she had slipped into while giving birth. She never got a chance to meet our daughter and even hold her in her arms. She never recovered from that and she swore to me that she would never fall pregnant again. I understood where she was coming from, I suppose. But it ate at me because I did want to have children and grow my family. I love children. When she had her uterus removed, I could never touch her the same way again. I just felt like she did not care about my feelings or what I wanted when it came to this matter. Cheating on her started off as me wanting her to feel the hurt that she made me feel when she took away the chance of us having children together. That is why I always cheated in environments where she would always find out. It was never meant to be a secret. I wanted her to be hurt. Most importantly, I wanted her to be as humiliated as I become every time I go to Venda and I am asked when I am having children”, he says. 

Okay, this is a lot. 

“Did you two ever talk to someone about and after losing the baby?” I ask him. 

“We never saw the need. Sometimes, I feel like Pearl blames me for almost losing her life giving birth to our daughter. She looks at me as if I am the one person who has ever hurt her in life and brought her face-to-face with death”, he says. 

These two have issues. They have serious issues. 

“Why don’t you get a divorce? It sounds to me like your marriage is over.” I ask. 

“I have thought about it, I will not lie. But, I still love her. I don’t want to feel like I did not do enough to save my marriage. I wouldn’t fight it though if she initiated the process.” He says.

That hurts me a little bit. 

“But you two have the business together – 

“We don’t share that business. My great-grandfather started it and grew it from nothing. It was passed down to my grandfather, then my father and now myself and my brothers. I run it. My brothers sit on the board. She is an employee like everyone else. I let her behave the way that she does because after we lost our daughter, the business is what kept her sane. It kept her going and she found happiness in drowning herself in work. But she has no shares in it. Plus, we signed a prenuptial agreement so she will get no cent in it”, he says. 

I nod my head. 

“Tell me about your family. Do they know how well you put it on me?” He says, giggling. 
I actually chuckle.
“Well, my mother is a politician. She is a minister in parliament. My dad is a businessman with various companies thriving in various industries. I had four brother that were all prepared since birth to take over the Khalo legacy. But they all passed away in a car accident two years ago. I was in university. They were on their way to some conference in Swaziland and this truck just hit them and they all died on the spot. People believe that it was a hit on one of my parents, if not both. They haven’t exactly made best friends on their way to the top. Now they are just obsessed with protecting me. I sometimes feel that they feel the need to protect me more than they feel the need to love me”, I say. 

A tear races down my face. 

“And how are you coping with losing your brothers?” He asks me. 
“I miss them every day. I just feel as though I can’t tell that to my parents. There is a wound that has been ripped open inside of them and their marriage and it refuses to heal. They don’t even look at me the same anymore.” I say. 
He is silent. 
I cry. 
He lets me. 
When I am done, I go freshen up in the restroom. 
When I walk out of the restroom, I find him sitting on the edge of the bed and fiddling with his phone. He looks up at me and says, “Are your parents Terrence and Phali Khalo?” 
I nod my head.
“No wonder you don’t give a shit about Palesa and Pearl. You come from power”, he says. 
I giggle. 

A call comes through on his phone and he answers it. I take off my clothes and lie on the bed naked. It’s not like I have pyjamas. He conducts the conversation in Venda, so I have no idea what he is saying. 
I use this opportunity to go through my social media. Nothing interesting on the timelines, just random soapies trending. I stalk my mom’s social media and I see that she is still posting about my brothers. I think she has forgot that she has a daughter too. That her daughter is actually alive and still needs her. I sent her a whatsapp telling her that I love her. She just replies with a “Love you too, nana. Sleep tight”. 

I text my father and tell him that I hope that he is well and that things are really working out for me at work. He actually chats to me. We go back and forth with chats and memes on whatsapp. I don’t even notice that Tom is done with his call. He is now lying next to me, naked too, and kissing my shoulder. 
I wish my father a good night then attend to the man next to me. 

Just as we are about to indulge each other, my phone rings. It is Portia. At this time? It must be urgent.
“Who’s Portia?” Tom asks me. 
“The lady from the warehouse consulting on the project”, I say. 
He looks at me as if expecting me to explain why she is calling me. 
“Hi Portia”, me. 
“Hi sisi. I really didn’t know who else to call. My child is not breathing. Please help me. I need to get to the hospital”, she says in great panic.

I actually regret answering my phone. We are not even friends like that. Before I can even answer her, Tom has hung up and we are making out. His tongue is worshipping me in one way and his fingers worship me in another… yet, I am worried about Portia.