SHATTERED DREAMS

CHAPTER THREE

A week had passed since Hlelolwenkosi moved in, and to my surprise, she had started to carve out her own space within the estate. I’d watched her grow closer to MaDlamini, their bond blossoming like a flower in the sun. It was a curious sight, seeing the warmth in their interactions. Hlelolwenkosi had found a confidante in the housekeeper, someone who treated her with kindness and respect.

While I was focused on avoiding the complications of my situation, they spent hours together in the kitchen, laughing over pots of food and swapping stories. I could hear snippets of their conversations echoing through the halls, a stark contrast to the silence that had settled between us.

Hlelolwenkosi had also embraced her studies, shifting to online courses in preparation for her transfer to the nearby university. I was impressed by her determination, but it also made me feel more distant. I was grateful for her focus, even if it meant she was less likely to disrupt the careful distance I had maintained since her arrival.

Despite my efforts to ignore her presence, I often found myself glancing at her during the rare moments we shared the space. She was always absorbed in her work or chatting with MaDlamini, her face lit with purpose. I felt a strange mix of admiration and guilt, aware that she was trying to make the best of a situation I had thrust upon her.

It was on a seemingly ordinary evening that everything shifted. I had just settled down with a drink, planning to unwind after a long day, when the doorbell rang. I felt a wave of unease wash over me. I hadn’t anticipated visitors, especially not from my family.

“Who is it?” Hlelolwenkosi asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Just my family,” I replied, my stomach knotting at the thought. “Stay in the living room. I’ll handle it.”

As I opened the door, my mother and brother stepped inside, their expressions a mix of excitement and expectation. “Sbanisethu!” my mother exclaimed, her voice bright. “We thought we’d surprise you with a visit.”

“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile. “Come in.”

The tension in the air was palpable as they entered. My mother immediately took notice of Hlelolwenkosi, who was trying to remain inconspicuous, sitting quietly on the sofa. “Ah, there’s my new daughter-in-law!” she said, beaming. “How lovely to see you, Hlelolwenkosi.”

“Thank you, Ma,” Hlelolwenkosi replied, her tone polite but lacking enthusiasm.

As the evening unfolded, my family settled in, the conversation shifting from pleasantries to more pressing matters. It wasn’t long before my mother’s gaze turned serious, a familiar intensity igniting in her eyes.

“Sbanisethu,” she said, her voice steady, “we need to discuss the future. You know how important it is for our family to have a heir.”

My heart sank. I glanced at Hlelolwenkosi, who looked taken aback, her eyes widening with disbelief. The weight of expectation hung heavily in the air, and I could feel the tension radiating from her.

“Ma, we just got married,” I replied, trying to maintain control of the situation. “Can we not rush things?”

But my mother waved my words away, her determination unwavering. “You know the significance of family lineage. It’s time for you both to start planning for a future. The sooner, the better.”

I caught Hlelolwenkosi’s gaze, a mixture of shock and indignation written across her face. I could sense the anger simmering just beneath the surface, and a part of me felt compelled to defend her. She had already been thrust into a life she never chose, and now they were demanding something as monumental as a child.

“We need to be realistic,” my mother continued, oblivious to the turmoil brewing in the room. “Our family’s reputation depends on it. Hlelolwenkosi, you must understand—”

“I’m still adjusting,” Hlelolwenkosi interjected, her voice trembling slightly but filled with resolve. “I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility. I just moved here and I’m focusing on my studies.”

My heart swelled with admiration. Here she was, standing her ground against my family’s expectations. But my mother’s expression hardened. “You need to understand that this is not just about you. This is about our legacy.”

I could feel the walls closing in. “Let’s not overwhelm her,” I said, trying to defuse the situation. “We’ve only just begun this journey together.”

But my mother wasn’t having it. “It’s time to face reality, Sbanisethu. We’re counting on you both to carry on our family name. You know how these things work.”

I glanced at Hlelolwenkosi again, her eyes blazing with a mix of defiance and fear. I wanted to reach out, to reassure her that she wasn’t alone, but the weight of tradition bore down on me, pulling me into the fray.

As the conversation continued, I felt a shift inside myself, an urge to protect her from the very expectations I was born into. But how could I fight against my family when I was already so entangled in their plans?

The night wore on, filled with discussions that only deepened the divide between us. I could sense the fragile bond we had begun to build fraying under the pressure of my family's demands. I had to find a way to navigate this labyrinth of duty and desire, for both our sakes.