Uyangijabulisa

chapter twenty-seven

A/N: listen to the song above on repeat please. 🙏🏾

I think I'm losing my mind.

At least, that's the best way to describe my state right now. The past two weeks have been hell. The day since Thabo woke up and didn't recognise me have felt like I was barely breathing, the water trying to swallow me in.

Alas, I have a business to start, the only thing keeping afloat while everything else seems chaotic in my life. Mororiseng has gotten problematic at school. Mama insists on finding a job even though I have promised her over and over again that I can take care of us.

The only way for me to breathe properly is to leave the house and go to woodlands to monitor the progress of the store. The sinks for washing hair, washing feet and washing hands are being installed today. I picked out the kinds I would like in the space a few days ago and I got called yesterday that they were being delivered. My construction guys have confirmed to fit them in today, so I'm going to check on that.

Just like my life, my new space is in disarray. I'm not disheartened though, knowing it will all come together soon. The timeline for this project is two months, we're three weeks away from opening day and to say I'm nervous would be an understatement.

Inside the car, I play music from my gospel playlist, knowing it would lift my spirits up. I back out of the driveway, noting the car that's been following my every moment come behind me after a few beats. I already discovered that it was Thabo, no other explanation because after all this time, why haven't they attacked? Besides, I know Thabo would've wiped them out sooner than later because this has been happening since the first day we moved here. I'm not even fazed by the thought of him killing them.

The ringtone of my phone startles me out of my thoughts. My eyes narrow at the unknown number but I press the answer button just in case it's someone from the construction company.

"Hello?" His voice, deep and smooth, though the static steals a little of its charm away, says. My heart stops, only for a second before speeding up at an alarming rate.

"Thabo?" I question, hope filling me up. Did he regain his memory? Is that why he's calling? Maybe I should pull up the car before I crash from the excitement of the possibility.

"Yes, this is him. Can we meet?" The detachment in his tone deflates my hope, clearly he didn't remember me, or at least that's what his tone suggests.

"Okay. I'm going to woodlands right now, we can meet at the Woolworths cafe there," I say, voice lower than usual. He agrees and tells me he'll see me in a few.

Before I arrive, he tells me he's there already by text, asking if he should order me something. I tell him hot chocolate is fine, the cool autumn air too nippy for an icy drink.

I arrive a few minutes after his text and brace myself to meet him after two full weeks of zero contact. My breath hitches once I spot him at a secluded corner, adorned in dark clothes, his face still as handsome as ever. He's hiding the bandage wrapped around his head with a beanie, the article looking way too cute on him.

I approach him nervously, every fibre in my being wanting to hug him with all my might. Instead, I smile politely at him and get into the booth opposite him.

"Hi," my voice is shy. He smiles small, staring at me in wonder, zero recognition of what we have in his eyes. My heart breaks a little more and I say a silent prayer of strength.

"Hi Rorisang," he says, my name sounding very unfamiliar as it rolls down his tongue. My shoulders deflate but I still manage a small smile. Our orders come then and I thank the waiter. He bought a full burger with fries and a coke. "You didn't say anything about ordering food, so I got just for myself," he says when I eye his plate.

"It's fine, I had breakfast, thanks for the hot chocolate though," I reply. "Anyway, what is it you wanted to meet me for?" I ask him.

"I keep getting snippets of you. They are too sporadic to piece all of them together. But my curiosity has gotten the best of me and I just need to know. I have an inkling feeling that you are someone I hold very dear, a girlfriend, perhaps even more. Ke bone transactions to an account in your name from my bank, frequent ones at that, all are pointing to one thing. These snippets I'm having, none of them show your face, always the outline of your body and they always leave me feeling warm inside," he explains. I can't help the tears that fall.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you cry," he says, looking very uncomfortable right now, like he has no idea what to do.

"This is so unfair. You know, your family contacted me, begged me to keep my distance from you until your memories came back on their own. I obliged them, out of respect but also because I felt like I had no right or claim over you. Being without you has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and now you're here, a shell of the man that once loved me with his whole being, and I just can't handle this! Why can't you come back to me my love? Why can't you remember me? Why did you have to forget only the months where you and I shared something very beautiful? Your brain literally chose to remember everything up until the point before we met. That commotion at the taxi rank? That was me! The start of you and I, and yet you remember none of it!" I burst out, keeping my voice as low as possible.

Thabo's hands reach out for mine and he squeezes, the electricity that passes between us not going unnoticed. His eyes shine with something, and then he starts to wince, one of his hand leaving mine to clutch the side of his head. It goes on for a long while and I sit there, not knowing what to do at all. And then it stops and he falls back on the couch.

"Do you have pictures of us? I think that can refresh my memory better?" he asks after a beat of silence, with him regaining his composure. I bite my tongue, not knowing if it's a good idea. But there's a pleading look on his face, it's clear he's hurting about this too. So I pull out my phone, for now letting go of the scene that just played out seconds ago. I open the folder with all our pictures and give it to him.

We are silent as he goes through each one and after he's done, he places the phone down.

"I loved you didn't I?" he asks, a look I can't decipher passing his face. I nod sadly in response to his question. "And I hurt you too didn't I?" I nod again. "I keep seeing you leaving me at the house, it's the only memory that plays on repeat, the reason I've sought you out now, because it leaves me feeling wrecked every time," he says. My heart breaks at the raw emotion in his voice.

"Can you help me please? I believe seeing you everyday will help me recover some if not all of my memories," he asks. I look at him with uncertainty, my soul torn in two. One part wants to honour his parents, the other is scared to leave him once again, especially when this beautiful chance to be with him has presented itself again.

"Okay," I agree, not caring about the consequences of my actions in that moment.

We finish up our orders and I tell him my business here when he asks. He smiles when I tell him that he's half the reason why I've been able to start this venture and I allow him to go with me to the store. It doesn't feel quite like before, but this will do.

Any little ounce of him that I can take, I will.