TILL DEATH DO US PART

Chapter 1

Nsika
I'm currently filled with frustration; I stormed out of the office in a fit of rage after discovering that the clients I was supposed to pitch to had already left. These past weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster, and my default coping mechanism of turning to alcohol has only intensified the downward spiral. Predictably, I overslept and completely forgot about an important meeting, despite it being the third chance I was given.

Unwittingly, I find myself speeding towards The Underground Bar in my powerful BMW M5 – a sanctuary of sorts, co-owned by a friend, where we often unwind. The weight of yesterday's heavy drinking hangs over me, making me increasingly drowsy as I navigate the road. Recognizing the need to pull over and clear my head, I make a mental note to do so soon. However, before I can execute it, I collide with something—or rather, someone. Panic sets in as I force my eyes open, realizing I've hit a woman.

Stepping out of the car, I assess the situation. The lady attempts to sit up but fails, and I instinctively rush to cradle her head. Concern fills me as I observe a scratch on her leg, oozing a trickle of blood. She gives me a faint smile as if she'll pass out soon. Knowing that waiting for an ambulance might take too long, I decide to take matters into my own hands. Gently, I pick her up, holding her in a bridal embrace along with her bags—particularly noticing the Ted Baker tote and a small clutch bag. Swiftly, I transport her to Redlands Private Hospital, where she immediately gets admitted.

As the medical professionals attend to her, I find myself in the waiting area, contemplating the seriousness of the situation. The first instinct is to reach out to my brother and share the unfolding events.
Lizwi: Bafo (I sigh).Ukahle??

Nsika: Ey, sekwenzeke inkinga la. I accidentally hit someone while driving, and now I'm worried because I didn't even get her name and emergency contacts to inform her family.

Lizwi: That's bad. Is she okay though?

Nsika: Well, she was stable when we arrived at the hospital , but she seemed weak.

Lizwi: Where are you? I'll be there soon.

Nsika: Redlands.

Lizwi: Alright, I'm on my way.

(Lizwi arrives in 15 minutes and comes up to me, patting my back. He's two years older than me.)

Lizwi: Did any officer arrive at the scene?

Nsika: Yeah, there was one around. I think they came immediately after the accident. I gave him my business card after he took photos. He said he'll call me for my statement and probably take the lady's afterward.

Lizwi: Hmm, okay. Are you okay though?

Nsika: I'm going to be fine. (He looks at me with concern.)

Lizwi: Okay. (A nurse approaches us.)

Nurse: Sir, the lady woke up briefly, and we got her name before she dozed off again. It must be the medication.

Nsika: Okay, go on.

Nurse: She said her name is Nozibusiso Zungu, if I heard correctly.

Lizwi: And how is she?

Nurse: She's fine, just a few scratches on her leg and some swelling and disorientation of bones, but she should be fine after a week of physiotherapy. (I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.)

Nsika: Can we see her?

Nurse: Visiting hours start in 30 minutes, so I can let in one person at a time for now. (I nod.)

Nsika: Alright, thank you. We'll wait.

Earlier events unfolded quickly, and in the midst of it all, I neglected to introduce myself. I am Nsikayekhaya Melizwe Ngcobo, a 26-year-old, tall, dark, and handsome man.  I am the CEO of Pholoba Logistics, a company specializing in offshore and onshore transportation of goods, I oversee operations under the umbrella of Fuze Holdings, a firm established by my father. All my siblings are actively involved in the family business. Besides my role in logistics, I am also a property magnate, engaged in lucrative real estate ventures on the side. This flourishing aspect of my life is evident in the opulent mansion I call home. Despite its opulence, the solitude within its walls reflects my bachelor lifestyle. I refrain from bringing women into my residence, as I find no potential for a lasting connection. Recent weeks have been full of upheavals, marked by a continuous loss of business deals. Regrettably, I lack the motivation to tirelessly persuade clients to collaborate with me. It's now 6 o'clock; visiting hours have commenced. Lizwi had prior commitments so he left, while the nurse signals for me to enter the private ward where she lies. Upon entering, I am left alone with this innocent soul, her serene appearance contrasting with the turbulence in my life. Overwhelmed with guilt for entangling her in my problems, I'm curious if her family is worried about her well-being, given that it has been a considerable amount of time since she has been in touch. Checking her phone for missed calls or messages, I find none from family, and I return it to its place, contemplating the beautiful yet fragile existence before me.