Unhinged Love

Epilogue 3

NQOBILE MSIBI

Love is a gamble. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. The trick is to play with honesty, even when others use tricks to win. But in the end, there’s no real winner. Just like in a casino, the house always wins. Silly, isn’t it? That I’m using metaphors like this when I’m supposed to be crazy in love like all my friends. But life had other plans for me. At 21, I realized I couldn’t give 100% of myself to a man while I hadn’t yet achieved the things I dreamed of.
Phelelani was a good man. My charming doctor. Our love felt like something out of a fairy-tale — wild, beautiful, grounding. He brought out the reckless side of me, the laughter, the spontaneity. But he also anchored me, gently, without ever making me feel trapped. I truly believed he was my forever. And maybe, in some quiet part of me, I still do. Because how do you forget someone who felt like your soulmate?

We conquered so much together. But the one thing we couldn’t conquer — the one thing we couldn’t set aside — was our dreams. Just days after my 22nd birthday, which Phelo made unforgettable, he received an offer to work at one of East Asia’s most prestigious hospitals — in North Korea. It was everything he had ever wanted. A chance to chase his passion for clinical trials and ground-breaking medicine. He used to speak about it with stars in his eyes, like a boy dreaming of miracles. But Empangeni could never give him that sky.

North Korea offered him funding, a generous salary, a home, and the freedom to chase miracles. And I knew — I knew — I couldn’t be the reason he stayed behind. So I made the hardest, most selfless decision of my life: I broke up with him before he could offer me choices that would tempt me to stay.

We fought. God, we fought. He couldn’t understand why I made the decision alone. He forgot that I had watched Hlengiwe — my best friend — build her empire from scratch, never letting love or loss derail her dreams. I wasn’t going to let him give up on his. One night, he came to my place, drunk and broken, tears streaming down his face. He begged me not to leave. He asked me to come with him. And for a moment, I wanted to say yes. But I had to stand firm. Not just for Hlengiwe, who needed me, but for myself. I needed to learn to stand alone, to chase my own dreams without being someone’s shadow.

That night, we made love like it was the last time. We cried as we held each other, as if our bodies could speak the words our hearts couldn’t. And in that moment, we said goodbye — not with words, but with aching silence and trembling hands.

When he realized I wouldn’t change my mind, he packed his things and left.

A week later, I was curled up in bed, drowning in grief, when a knock came at the door. I dragged myself across the floor, tears blurring my vision, and opened it. The delivery man looked at me with quiet concern but said nothing. He handed me a box and left.

Inside was the title deed to Phelelani’s house — now in my name. Car keys to his Brabus. Paperwork that made me the legal owner of everything he had left behind. And tucked beneath it all was a journal. His journal. Daily entries from the day I suggested the breakup until the day he left. I spent the entire day reading his words, feeling his pain, his confusion, his love. And I broke. I shattered.

My friends found me like that — curled up, sobbing, surrounded by memories of a love that had ended too soon. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t talk about business or plans. They just held me. And for once, I let myself be held.

×××

It’s been two years since I broke my own heart — not because I was betrayed, but because I loved someone enough to let him go. I watched the man who owned my heart fly away with it, leaving me hollow and aching. It was a self-imposed heartbreak, yes… but it was for his sake. For his future. For the dreams he had whispered to me in the quiet of our nights.

And somehow, in the silence that followed, I picked myself up.

I poured my pain into purpose. I focused on growing in our industry, diving into recipe development and traveling to different countries for experience and research. I wanted to taste the world, understand its flavours, and bring something new to the table — literally.

When Hlengiwe saw my findings and the dishes I had created, she laughed and said, “You should write a cookbook. I’m not doing it.” It was a joke, but It planted a seed. I slept on the idea for a week, and by the next, I was already sketching out the chapters.

I used the rent money from my flat — my little cushion of savings — to book consultations with a publisher. Three months later, the dream took shape. And five months after that, I launched my first cookbook: Savouring The Seasons. It was more than just recipes. It was a piece of me. A story told through food. The first 500 copies sold out faster than I could have imagined.

Hlengiwe, in her usual generous spirit, made me head researcher of Healthy Eats. That title gave me wings. It gave me freedom to explore, to experiment, to sharpen my skills and stretch my creativity. I’ll never stop being grateful to her — not just for believing in me, but for trusting me with something so close to her heart.

×××

Today was a good day. A fruitful day. Another win for the books — literally.
Due to popular demand, we launched Savouring The Seasons Too, and the response was overwhelming. People went crazy. And I think I know why. My cookbooks aren’t just instructions — they’re stories. I lace each page with a dose of my madness, my humour, my heart. So when someone reads it, they don’t feel like it was written by AI or some distant chef. They feel me. They feel seen.

Taping into that creative part of your brain is like exploring a totally different world that you never knew existed. At least that’s what it felt like for me. Savouring The Seasons is not just a cookbook to me. It’s a gateway to my heart, my soul, the thing that drives me to being the best version of myself. Today made me realize that the future is in my mind. All I have to do is open it and let the magic flow.

“Congratulations my beautiful butterfly.” Hlengiwe exclaims as she rushes to hug me. Her husband is hot on her heels. I smile and hug her back. Despite her busy life, she makes time for me, someone she considers her little sister, and I will forever be loyal to her for that.
“Thank you, Queen Bee. You and hubby are serving goals. #PrinceHarryandPrincessMeghan.” She giggles and steps aside to let Melisizwe hug me.

“Congratulations, lastborn. You continue to make me proud.” He compliments as he hands me a bunch of flowers and I smile genuinely. I may have forced him to call me lastborn at their wedding and he has not called me anything else ever since. Maybe he is scared of me.

“Thank you, Mr Mzimela. These are gorgeous. Now, you are going to make my man jealous.”
He gives me a scolding look. “Any man who wants to date you has to go through me first.”
My eyes pop out. “Chill, Silver fox. You might actually scare your potential son-in-laws away.” Hle laughs while Melisizwe rolls his eyes. I just love rolling him up.

I move around the jazz lounge to greet my friends and mingle with people in our industry. A lot are interested in going home and actually using the cookbook. That makes me proud, to hear them long for using something I created. Even though it won’t taste as great as when I make it, but knowing people will be making dishes inspired by me is such a flex. I head over to the bar after socializing and place my flowers there. I lean over and order a drink while taking a seat on one of the barstools. The bartender smiles as he slides my drink in front of me. I smile back and Take a sip.  Taking a deep breath, I allow myself to let go and bask in the success of the evening. It was a good one and I am very proud of myself. The woman I am becoming.

“Can I get an autograph?” an oddly familiar voice startles me and I nearly drop glass. I carefully set it down and slowly turn, only to come face to face with the one man who has truly ever owned my heart and soul. His eyes pop out. “Wow, ahem, you look more beautiful than I imag…” he stutters and that gives me a moment to collect myself and really look at him. He is here. In front of me. In flesh. Not a figment of my imagination. And he has two of my books in his hands. He looks way better than the last time I saw him. More handsome. More muscled and sexier. He is any woman’s wet dream main character and he is standing right in front of me.

“Doctor.” Somehow I am proud that my voice doesn’t betray the whirlwind of emotions I am experiencing.

I think something snaps in him because he curses before closing the distance between us in one stride and wrapping his arms around me in an almost crushing way. He deeply inhales my scent, making me swallow any pride I had and hug him back with the same intensity. God, I have missed him so much. I have missed being in his arms. I have missed the feel of his body against mine. I have missed everything about him. The sound of his voice. The way he breathes. The way he touches me. Fuck. It’s true that I have only turned to machines for pleasure the past two years because I couldn’t handle having another man touch me. A man that isn’t him.

He breaks the hug but doesn’t step back. He keeps me at arms length. “I should have never left. I should have never asked you to forsake your dreams while I was pursuing mine. I was selfish and inconsiderate. I am sorry, baby. Please forgive me.” I want to jump him, kiss him, undress him, but I don’t want to get carried away.

“Not that I am not happy to see you, but what are you doing here, Phelelani?”
He smiles as he cups my face. “I can’t live without you. I know I am an idiot because it took me two years to realize that. But you are my life, Nqobile. No dream matters if you are not by my side. I know that now. We have a lot to discuss, but I need to know if you have moved on or not. Even if you have, I will respect your decision but I will never stop pursuing you because there is no Phelo without MaMsibi.” Fuck, this man is good with his words. But I can’t break down. Not at my own launch party. I don’t want to trend for the wrong reasons.

I slowly slide my hand down his pants and cup his balls. “Have you given any Japanese doll what’s mine?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Hlengiwe made sure of that. She ordered a silicone doll for me and a note saying “I am rooting for y’all. Just don’t get addicted.”

I laugh. That one is my sister for life. “Then marry me. I also don’t want to spend another day miserable and longing for you.”
He nods multiple times. “Tomorrow, we will go to Home Affairs and make things official, but tonight, I want to celebrate your success and worship you.”

I smile widely and let him consume me and kiss me, pouring his heart out. As I said, love is a gamble and I am glad I showed my hand at the beginning. I might have lost the first round, but against all odds, I won the last one and boy am I glad to be the Victor. Our love has conquered all, and I don’t care if we might face some troubles in the future. As long as we are together. Oww, my man, my man, my man. Now all that’s left is to fuck him and remind him who he belongs to.
.
.
.
It’s been a blast my lovelies. Thank you once again for being an amazing audience. Till we meet again in the next read. And Unhinged Love full pdf will be available for R70 from Monday the 1st of September 2025.