Zamageda his heart

chapter 12

He lies next to me, catching his breath, and I marvel at his beauty - chiseled features, piercing eyes, and a strong jawline that speaks to his resilience. His dark hair is messy, and his lips are swollen from our intimate moments. His broad shoulders and chest taper to a defined waist, a testament to his dedication to fitness.He gently pecks my lips, 'Is your Uber still on its way?' he teases, and I let out an exhausted giggle. He gets off the bed and walks towards the ensuite, and I gawk at the back of a man who clearly works out - broad shoulders, toned back, and a hint of muscle definition.I want to take a nap, but these sheets are soaked, how embarrassing, Zama. He walks back and reaches for my hand, motioning me towards the filled, foamy tub. The familiar scent of lavender graces my senses, and I feel my muscles relax.

'I've never imagined you as a sassy, feminine man, Mbulazi,' I tease, and he chuckles, leaving me to soak neck-deep in the warm water. As I replay every scene and emotion, I feel my heart flutter, and my mind whispers, 'Maybe this is more than just lust'.He takes a quick shower and walks out, leaving me to soak in the tub. I think it would've been nice to sit together and bask in our blossoming love, but I've had enough physical touch for tonight. He returns, places my vanity bag on the sink, and pecks my lips before walking out without saying a word. He's not a man of many words, and I adore that about him. I can sit comfortably in silence with him; his presence speaks volumes, and no words are needed.

I wash up, get out of the water, and begin my skincare routine, making a mental note to cut my hair tomorrow. As I walk into the bedroom, I find him making the bed, the wet bedding on the floor a reminder of our passionate encounter. A wave of shame washes over me as I recall my escapades, but I push it aside, feeling a sense of comfort and security in his presence.The simple act of him making the bed, taking care of the mess we made, speaks to his thoughtful and caring nature. I feel grateful for this quiet, gentle moment with him, and I know that this is where I want to be – in his presence, surrounded by his love and care

Kumele sithole indlela yokuwaqeda lamahloni akho, mama,' he says, walking towards me and capturing my lips in a lingering kiss. I crave more of him, but he chuckles, pulling away as my breath hitches. He hands me a hoodie similar to the one I had threatened to steal in PE, and his response, 'Okwami okwakho nje, manje uzoyebeleni,' makes me a blushing mess. I smile at the memory and thank him, quickly slipping it on.

'I cooked, should I dish up?' I ask, my voice filled with striking submission. He nods, and I walk to the kitchen, wearing only his hoodie, my core getting much-needed fresh air. I warm up the food, carefully plating it and pouring two glasses of wine to pair. I smile at the thought: my first of many 'Sundays are for lovers,' even though we're yet to give us a title.The hoodie envelops me in his scent, and I feel a sense of belonging. The simple act of cooking and sharing a meal together feels intimate and domestic. I realize that this is what I've been craving – a connection that goes beyond physical touch, a sense of comfort and security in someone's presence.We spend the rest of the evening basking in our undefined, newly found love, and surrendering to our desires. 

At 6:30 am, I'm rejuvenated and ready to return to my house, feeling like I've been born again. He drives me back, our hands intertwined, and I'm grateful he met the healed version of me, as I doubt I would have allowed this connection to flourish otherwise.It's undeniable – I've fallen deeply in love with him, and I'm willing to let him love me without boundaries. I left my past in Durban for a fresh start, and he's undoubtedly the one I've been searching for. 'I'll pick you up at 4,' he says, leaving no room for argument. I look at him expectantly, and he continues, 'Leya date ongikweleta yona' ( the date you owe me ). I chuckle, remembering my promise to make it up to him.He pulls me in for a kiss, confessing his love for me between pecks. This feels warm, like home. In this moment, I know I've found my haven, my safe space, my love.

I quickly get ready for work, feeling like a happy and loved woman. However, the thought of going to work hits me when I see Amanda at reception, and a pang of grief resurfaces. She greets me with a remark 'Korean glass can only mean one thing Zama' and I laugh, i am not feeding her any gossip, we're not cool like that. I focus on my work, sending a request to HR for a student, and try to avoid thinking about crime scenes. The day flies by, and I leave at 3:30 pm

As I arrive at my place, I cut my hair before getting ready for the night. I slip into a stunning white long-sleeved bodycon dress, accentuating my curves and showcasing my best assets. I complete the look with sleek silver strap heels, elegant silver hoops, and subtle yet radiant makeup.Just as I'm finishing up, uMbulazi wami calls at 4 pm, instructing me to pack an overnight bag - as if I had any intention of returning home tonight. The thrill of the unknown sends a shiver down my spine as I prepare for a night of adventure and romance.

As we drive out of Kimberly towards Douglas, our comfortable chatter is interrupted by his ringing phone, connected to the car's system. 'Thandoluhle' flashes on the screen, and a cheerful female voice fills the car, addressing him as 'my love.' I feel a knot in my stomach and a sting in my armpits as he tightens his grip on my hand. 'Don't call me that, ungiqhatha nomkami,' he says with a chuckle, but the woman continues, oblivious to the hint. 'How can I help you, Thando?' he asks softly. 'Namisa wants to eat out, and we need money for the bill,' she replies in a pleading tone. The thought of his baby mama being so comfortable with him aggravates me, and I start to wonder if I want to be in this kind of setup.

"A different voice chimes in, saying 'please, bhuti,' but he laughs and tells them to pay the bill themselves, since they willingly took out their niece. He suggests they should ask one of their many brothers for help instead. The callers are not pleased with their failed attempt at getting money from him and bid farewell, with Namisa repeating 'I love you a million times' before hanging up. He gently releases his hand from mine and sends the money he had just refused to send.