Zamageda his heart

chapter 8

As I drive home, his intoxicating scent lingers on my blouse, captivating my senses. 'Kodwa lendoda ingenzani?' I think to myself, questioning my own sanity. I'd like to blame ovulation, but I know it's not the culprit - I genuinely crave him. The thought of taking the lead is tempting, but I reprimand myself, remembering that I'm not ready, and two years of drought have made me a danger to both him and myself.I arrive home, freshen up, and catch up with my mother while packing. The thought of driving down to Port Elizabeth weighs heavily on my mind, and I find myself wanting to delay this trip as much as possible. The looming task ahead, combined with my unresolved feelings , leaves me feeling anxious and uncertain.

I warm up my food and settle in with a bottle of wine, ready to wash down my dinner, my grief, and these growing feelings. As I try to catch up on Succession, my phone rings, interrupting my moment of solitude. It looks like lendaba yama feelings aykakazophela.'Hello,' I answer, and his deep, husky voice responds, 'Manzini.' The sound sends a shiver down my spine, like a gentle caress. I clear my throat, trying to compose myself, and we engage in meaningless chatter. He asks about my travel arrangements again, and I truthfully tell him I was planning on driving down and staying with her family.

He clearly doesn't agree with me and tells me to send him my details so he can sort everything out. A few minutes later, I receive an email confirming my flight for 9:00 a.m. I don't even bother protesting the early time. He then tells me I can drive to his house, and he'll drive me to the airport since it's closer to his place.He wishes me a good night and hangs up before I can even thank him. I'm left sitting there, feeling both grateful and frustrated, wondering how he's taken control of my trip and my emotions.

I sigh in defeat and go to bed, but morning arrives sooner than I'd like. However, the thought of Zipho driving me to the airport makes it more bearable. I get ready, slipping into comfortable tracksuits and trainers, planning to change into something decent when I arrive in PE.I call him for his address and take an Uber to his place. The neighborhood is picturesque, with manicured lawns and tidy houses - a suburban paradise that makes me want to live here someday. The Uber drops me off at his gate, and he opens it, looking utterly captivating in his grey sweats and white T-shirt. His masculinity is defined by the broad shoulders, chiseled jawline, and piercing eyes that seem to see right through me.He hugs me warmly and places a gentle kiss on my forehead, but I crave more. He knows it too, his eyes sparkling with awareness as he pulls back, his gaze lingering on mine.

He clears his throat and motions me towards a car parked outside the garage -  a sleek, Ford Ranger Wildtrak, its exterior a stunning shade of 'Conquer Grey' that seems to shimmer in the morning light. The rugged yet refined design of the Wildtrak trim is evident in its sporty wheels, bold grille, and chiseled lines that flow smoothly along its body. The grey paint job is flawless, with a subtle sheen that hints at the car's superior quality. The Ford logo gleams on the front grille, and the Wildtrak badge on the side decals suggests a vehicle built for adventure and power catches me off guard. 'I only use it when I'm going to sites,' he explains, as if reading my mind. 

He packs my suitcase in the back, next to a duffel bag already placed on the seat.The drive to the airport takes less than 30 minutes, and instead of dropping me off at the designated zone, he parks in the airport parking lot. My mind is preoccupied, so I don't question him. He gets out, opens my door, and offers his hand to help me out. He then takes my suitcase and slings the duffel bag over his shoulder, his free hand still holding mine. We walk inside, and he leads me to Wimpy, where the aroma of food tantalises my senses. Despite my hunger, the thought of waiting fills me with anxiety.

We're ushered to an empty table and place our orders, engaging in light conversation as we navigate the unspoken dynamics of our relationship. The intense chemistry between us remains unaddressed, lingering like an elephant in the room. As we eat, he shares the story of how he met Graig, and I'm quietly grateful for their friendship, realising I wouldn't have met him otherwise. As the time approaches 8:40 a.m., I ask the waiter for our bill and a speed point. I can feel his gaze on me, but I'm determined to pay, considering everything he's done for me, despite still being a stranger. When the bill arrives, I take care of it and thank the waiter.He reaches for our bags and walks towards our boarding gate, his free hand tucked into his pocket - i feel a slight disappointment as i was expecting him to hold my had as he has been doing.

We swiftly board the plane, carrying our light baggage with us. As we settle into our seats, I gaze out the window, trying to avoid his piercing eyes and overwhelming presence. I attempt to take a short nap, but my mind is flooded with haunting memories of Liz's lifeless body, and the lump in my throat grows unbearable. I need water, but my voice is barely a whisper.Tears blind me, and I tilt my head up, trying to push them back, but they trickle down my face and onto my ear. He notices my distress and sneaks his arm around me, pulling me into his warm embrace. My walls crumble, and I surrender to my grief. This trip has solidified a massive loss I'm struggling to comprehend. The pain feels crippling, suffocating me.He gently brushes my back until I'm calm, and I don't leave his embrace. Instead, I inhale his scent, a unique blend of floral and masculine notes - a subtle hint of lavender and geranium, intertwined with the warmth of cedarwood and a touch of spicy bergamot. It's different from the scent I've grown accustomed to, yet it brings me comfort.