Uyangijabulisa

chapter twenty-two

It's only been a few hours, not even a full day, and I'm already contemplating going back. The one thing that's keeping me here is the fact that he's killed people. I would've been fine with him being a mobster, but human life is something completely different, something I can't take lightly.

My mind has reasoned with me multiple times, memories I've created with him flashing in through it like a montage of the moments we've shared, reminding me that despite the fact that he's all these ugly things, he's always been a kind, loving and genuine gent with me. Except for the one time he had a target on his back, I wouldn't have even had suspicions about his occupation.

Logically, my mind is saying that it should count for something, my heart is in agreement with it, but there's this sixth sense, this feeling that is keeping me at bay, telling me to evaluate my stance on the matter.

My mom places a tray of tea in front of me. I've been crying in intervals, one minute wailing and the next staring off into space. I haven't told her what's up and she's not pressing either. But I reckon she thinks I've lost my mind and maybe, I have.

Because why am I even considering going back to a killer? It should not even be a question where I stand, but I can't help myself. I love that man with my whole being, my entire heart, and being apart from him like this is tearing away at me.

"Thanks ma," I say and wrap my hands around the big mug. The heat is scalding against my skin, but I'd rather feel that pain than the one in my heart. I keep telling myself I should leave him, and whenever that thought crosses my mind I feel like my heart is being stomped on.

When the cup isn't as hot anymore, I place it on the bed side table and get under the covers. I need to sleep, staying up is only proving to be detrimental to me. I don't want to think about it, about him, about us, it hurts to much and the decisions I have to make are a lot to to figure out right this instant.

•••

Someone shakes me awake. It's a struggle to open my eyes and my head hurts like hell. Finally, I manage to summon my eyes open and I see my mother looking over me, a crease of worry between her bushy eyebrows.

"There's a delivery for you outside," she says. My face scrunches up, what delivery? I didn't place any orders.

"What time is it ma?" I ask, rubbing my eyes. The speed in which I try to get up has my head hurting ten times worse and I slowly lay back down and collect myself.

"It's 10 in the morning. Come on Rorisang, the poor guy is waiting for you," she says. What poor guy? I struggle to get up but manage to. I scan the house and notice my brother on the sleeper couch still sleeping. My mother must have been in a good mood, she hates it when people oversleep.

"Did he say who it's from?" She shakes her head and tells me to get up and stop wasting time. I'm wearing the pjs I changed into yesterday after I got home, so I grab a gown and wrap it around me.

With a banging head, swollen eyes and a disoriented mind, I make my way out the room and towards the gate. Outside, a big white Hyundai car is parked, some man in a suit standing by the driver's door. He approaches me when he sees me step out the yard and bows his head in greeting.

"Good morning. I've been send to deliver this to you. This is the keys to the car and these are the keys to the house. Boss says I should drive you to the house so you know where it is," he says. My eyes pop wide open. I don't even have to ask who did all this. There's only one person in the world crazy enough to give the woman who asked for space all these things. I can't even say I'm mad, many might see this as manipulative, and maybe it is, but I'm too out of sorts to even process things.