"How about we make this love thing real, yeah?"~Qaphela Makhathini.
In this fleeting span of mortal existence, Ayize and Qaphela are graciously granted another opportunity to love each other. However, circumstances don't appear to be as delightfu...
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"𝚈𝙴𝚂, 𝙸 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙼𝚈 𝚆𝙸𝙵𝙴, legally. That's my condition," Qaphela states ever so bluntly. I gnaw at my bottom lip and scoff in disbelief.
"Ayize. Don't you have anything to say?" Lydia intervenes, offering me a faint smile.
"No! What I need is for you to explain this damn contract so I can formally say no and carry my ass home," I snap. God knows how I'll even do that considering I don't even have my cellphone.
Qaphela suspires sharply and takes a moment to look at me before telling Lydia to go ahead. She modestly nods before opening her folder, pulling out papers that resemble the ones in my hand.
She clears her throat. "Well, let's continue." She inhales another sharp breath. "The intent of this contract is to set the terms of the intended marriage between Qaphela Makhathini and Ayize Gxarha. They are to be married in no more than a month from the signing of this agreement. Once the contract is signed, it is expected that the engagement be announced to the respective families within a week's time and that the parties begin to cohabitate within two weeks of the announcement. The marriage must be maintained for a minimum of five years from the date of the wedding. Ayize Gxarha is to have a child within the first twelve months of the marriage—"
"Just wow! Wow, Qaphela! All of this for an heir?" I plague. I'm baffled by his last condition.
"We both know that's not true Ayize! I love you and I'm not getting any younger. I don't see myself procreating with anyone other than you. Kill me for going for what I want." He shifts his gaze to Lydia. "Lydia, please continue," he instructs. Lydia nods, giving me a tight yet jittery smile.
"O-kay. Failure to sign this agreement will result in Ms Gxarha's arson charges being revisited—" My eyes immediately balloon at the latter revelation.
"Hold it right there. So you mean that if I don't sign this bogus contract, the charges against me will be revisited? So what now? You're blackmailing me, Qaphela!" I snarl at Qaphela, who remains composed.
I let out a boisterous laughter, seeing the need to laugh at this bullshit. I turn in my seat to directly face Qaphela. "You're doing all this bullshit to make sure you have some sort of ownership over me, right? Mfondin, your obsession with marriage is nauseating at this point. Wow, Qaphela Adewale Makhathini! I knew you had some fuckery in you, but not to this degree!"
"Baby—"
"Fuck you, fuck this!" I bark angrily whilst storming off to the long ass hallway.
I swiftly escape to the sanctuary of his bedroom, securely closing the rich mahogany door, which acts as a barrier for me and him. In silence, I find myself engulfed in tears, muffling my cries with my hand pressed firmly against my mouth. The weight of despair overwhelms me; I cannot bear it, for the love of Jesus, I truly cannot. The very thought of uniting my life with Qaphela through marriage feels like a devastating step backwards—a monumental regression in my journey of healing.
