BURN for Better or Worse (COMPLETED)

Chapter 24

In human sexuality, top, bottom and versatile are sex positions or roles during sexual activity between two men. A top is usually a person who penetrates, a bottom is usually one who receives penetration and someone who is versatile engages in either or both roles. The terms may be elements of self-identity that indicate an individual's usual preference and habits, but might also describe broader sexual identities and social roles.

NQABA...

"How I wish I can offload the burden you're carrying? I will take care of you Tan-tan, you will never have to shed another tear in your life." Sleep can seem like a beautiful thing, the real definition of 'not all that glitters is gold.' I've been watching Thandiwe sleeping for over an hour now.
Her rhythmic breathing, the rise and fall of her chest. The peaceful appearance her body has taken, would fool you into thinking her life is perfect, not knowing her every day struggles.

Neo and Styles haven't gotten back to me regarding Zulu, their phones are not going through. I was hoping that Zulu would be home when Thandiwe wakes up in the morning. I should've gone with them. I promised Thandiwe that I would bring him home, I've seen the trust she has for me in her eyes.

A soft knock on the door scoops me away from Thandiwe's bedside, father peeks in with a ghost of a smile. There's a quiet moment as he stares into my eyes from a few feet away, he's trying hard to read me and I am not giving anything off. A snigger sashays between his lips, followed by the shaking of a head.
"You can't hide anything from me, Mzi." His first words. I can proudly announce that father is the only man who can put me into a boat of nervousness. I'm talking about sweaty hands, heart racing, dribs of sweat forming on the eyebrows and wanting to hide away from his probing gaze.
"I don't understand baba," my foolishness births another chortle from him. Of course I know what he means, the man is not blind and my eyes have probably sold me out. The love I have for Thandiwe can be naïve.
"Come with me," he wants me to follow him and I am not sure about leaving Thandiwe alone lest she has another bad dream.
It's around 10pm, she went to bed early today and nothing has happened yet. My brother left right after lunch, he wasn't happy about having to leave Thandiwe behind. Duma's word stands, it's always been this way. He taught his sons discipline and respect which some abandoned on the way to adulthood. I respect this man and trust him with my life.

I make sure not to be far away from Thandiwe's room, the TV room is a good place to talk. A small room with a two seater couch, an old room divider Barbra refused to throw away. It has everything inside, Tupperware, plates, spoons and glasses that are only used on special occasions. The room accommodates about four people who do not mind being squashed up in a couch during an episode of a good television show.
Father bought this house before taking my mother to live with him years ago. It was a two bedroom house, they renovated over the years. It's not their dream home, but it is a comfortable home.

"You're around a lot these days," he introduces as he settles on a couch, I perch myself at the far end corner.
"Ingabe ubaba uyakhononda?" (Is father complaining?) I know he's not, it's good to pull his leg sometimes.
"Get me my special drink in the fridge and a glass of water for yourself." He orders.
"Shouldn't it be the other way round? Alcohol is not good for you." There was a time in life when he had become an addict, Barbra's hand. She will drive my father crazy one day and I am afraid he won't survive the news about her infidelity. He worships that woman. She is all he's ever known.

"Here," I hand him a bottle of Castle Larger, he doesn't drink anything else and I have adopted to his habit over the years.
"How is MaMshengu?" My eyes almost fall out as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. Duma doesn't smoke, as far as I know.
"Being married to your mother is nie pap n vleis nie, don't worry it's not an everyday thing." (Is not easy.)
Yet he's puffing it like he's been doing it all his life.
"Should I be worried, Makhathini?"
"Am I not allowed to smoke Nqabayomzi?" His question is icy and dismissive, I know better than to continue. "You know when I found out you left the village for Joburg, I knew you made the biggest mistake of your life."
"What do you mean?" I query, with a look of curiosity.
"You left Thandiwe behind Mzi, you never should've done that. Look at you going after your brother's wife." It can't be as bad as he makes it sound and how did he know about us?
"It's not like that baba, Thandiwe doesn't love him." I riposte, my father cannot be against this. I will hate having to go against him.
"So? She is still your brother's wife. You had eight years to fight for her, Mzi, but you wait for your brother to take her as his wife." The disappointment in his tone worries me, his approval would mean a lot to me. "I don't want any conflict between you two, my sons will not kill each other."
Too late for that, I am ready to kill for Thandiwe.
"I'm not giving up on her..." talking back is not my intention, but he doesn't understand where I'm coming from. His love was not taken from him.