Unhinged

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

It has been a hectic couple of weeks of me lying and keeping a secret from my husband. Yes, this is related to the divorce attorney that my father-in-love asked me to find for him. I tried multiple times to convince him to inform his sons about his decision, but he flat out refused even after I'd told him how supportive they would be considering how treacherous their mother is/was, but the old man maintained his position. The fact that I didn't know of any divorce attorneys didn't matter to the old man; all he wanted was for me to assist him and without any of his son's knowledge, and I did. Well, I still am. After battling with my head on how I was going to find one, eBhayi nogal, I decided to put to task the one person I'd prohibited Siya from using, especially for our personal matters: Thando. (In Port Elizabeth even) Yes! Yes! Yes! I went back on my word, I know. How hypocritical of me, but I had no choice. He was the only person I could think of, well beside Themba, who, not to sound judgemental or anything, I doubt knows of any divorce attorneys, so my only option was Thando. You may be wondering how we've been able to do all of this behind Siya's back, who, by the way, has not gone to work since his father and brother returned back home almost four weeks ago. Well, he said he doesn't want to leave me unattended since I'm getting even heavier and bigger. Ei, that's another pandemic nje on its own. (Just) These children have managed to make me gain an entire 10kg in just four weeks. Can you imagine how big I must be right now? Ingathi ndiyindlovu. (It's like I'm an elephant) Anyway, back to how Thando and I have been nyonyobaring behind Siya's back. (Sneaking) Well, Thando has been coming to the house once or twice a week, all under the pretence of helping me organise a few things in preparation for Anga's registration in varsity. I know Siya finds all of this a bit suspicious considering that Anga is a grown ass man who could handle registering himself all on his own without me, but I played the 'big sister' card and the fact that I financially contribute to some of his expenses, which is true by the way, and he let us be. When it comes to communicating with my father-in-law, I communicate with him when Siya is on a business call or when he's stepped out to go check on something at the warehouse but either than that, I sit my fat ass down and act like I'm not 'colluding' with my father-in-law and Thando behind his back. As much as I want to honour my father-in-love's request, I've told myself that I will come clean to Siya as soon as both parties have signed on the dotted lines. For now, I'm keeping my mouth shut as I don't want Siya or Jongi to interrupt this process by being hot-heading and disrupting everything. Utatazala wam deserves this, and if we're being honest, they do too. (My father-in-law) As for how they are going to handle the news... Andiyazi and andizingeni. (I don't know, and I don't want any part of it)

I'm currently sitting in the lounge, stuffing my face with my latest craving addiction, pickles coated in strawberry jam. Don't you dare say 'eew'! This is all Siya's fault! Well, and his babies. My some-what okay figure is becoming something of the past with each passing day and I honestly can't wait to give birth. My phone rings beside me, interrupting me from my favourite show. Nxa, abantu abana timing yazi! (People don't have the correct sense of timing, you know) Annoyed, I lower my eyes to the screen and see Anga's name flash on the screen. Yaz'ba ufuna ntoni lo? (I wonder what this one wants) I am sorting out his registration things, andithi? (Am I not) "Anga," I irritably call out his name when picking up. Silence looms for a few seconds before his voice vibrates through the speaker, "Sisi." (Sister) I listen to his despondent voice and become worried almost immediately, "Yintoni ingxaki?" (What's the matter) One of the few things that I know about my brother is that when he's troubled or something is bothering him, he always inhales and exhales sharply before speaking. That's his way of trying to calm himself down. "Kufike abantu apha endlini abathi ngabakwa Modisele," he says like I'm supposed to know who the hell those people are and why their arrival has left him this disturbed. (There are people who arrived here at home who say they are from the Modisele family) "I don't know of any people with such a surname," I inform him in case I'm a possible suspect in the list of individuals who know these people. "I know sisi. Ngabantu bakulo mama kaWami," he says before releasing a deep sigh, defeated. (They are Wami's mother's family) Immediately when he mentions my brother's girlfriend's family, I sit up straight. "Uthetha ukuthini xa usithi ngabantu bakulo mama kwaWami? What do they want?" I scream, though it's unintentional. (What do you mean when you say that those people are Wami's mother's family) Those people not only treated my brother like the scum of the earth, but they also disowned my niece and called her a bastard. Ngoku bafuna ntoni kuthi? (Now what do they want) Before he responds, he releases another exasperated breath, "They are here to ask for shared custody of Wami." I jump out of the couch, forgetting that I'm 10kg heavier than I was a month ago and I almost fall on my face. Luckily, I manage to stabilise myself before any harm befalls me or my babies. "Unotshe! Where were they when Inga was working and studying while trying to take care of THEIR granddaughter whom they chased away like a dog? Bebephi?" I roar. (Never! Where were they) I start pacing up and down the lounge as thoughts of how hurt Inga was when he narrated the story to me, now they have the audacity to not only hunt us down but want shared custody of Wami? Banganya! (They can go to hell) Wami is ours now! Mine, to be exact!