Unscripted love Chapter 66 - Mzansi Stories

Monday, June 27


Unscripted love Chapter 66


Deep down I knew better but I wanted to believe otherwise. Kloe Kardashian.
It started out as just a casual conversation about our lives and what was going on with one another. We then talked about our spirituality and what we were struggling with. Forgiveness was finding it hard to mourn the loss of her husband that passed away a month after they were married and I found myself venting and telling her about things I’d struggled with my whole life. It was comfort with Forgiveness and we were immediately drawn to each other because everything my partner didn’t have, she had and I know she felt the same about me.
Forgiveness was just so…. different, and so unique. I don’t think I’d laughed as hard as I had when I was with her. Underneath the hard and cold exterior that members of the church often complained about, she was really a loving woman who had to deal with a lot of pain and hurt in her life. I understood her.

I was content with my family but it wasn’t until I met her that I finally felt whole again and I could be my flawed self as she didn’t put me on a pedestal and hold me up to a higher moral standard because I was a pastor. We became closer and closer. Texts turned into late night phone calls and texts were exchanged at all hours of the day. We were both persistent and curious. I didn’t really see a problem with my relationship with her, at first. We were just friends, after all. Not once before had she ever expressed any interest in me, so I convinced myself that we weren’t doing anything wrong.
Then, one day, all of that changed. I believe we were at her house, that day. It was a cheap two bedroom with cracks in the walls and a pungent odour and I remembered having to tell her over and over again that I didn’t mind. I probably should have known that everything would change when she invited me over right after Maria left for a woman’s conference.
“How is the job hunt coming along?” I asked quietly as I sat next to her on her ripped sofa.
“I’m struggling to find a job. Every time someone knocks on the door I fear that they are here to give me an eviction notice,” she muttered, fiddling with the brim of her glass with her eyes downcast. My heart sank.
“I thought I told you that you could contact me if you needed anything.” I told her gently. “I don’t mind helping you.”
“Yeah, well maybe I do,” was her response.
I sighed. Her pride had always been infuriating. She insisted on doing everything herself, as though she thought accepting help from someone made her weak.
“It’s really no big deal, Forgiveness,” I tried to explain. “You shouldn’t go hungry just because you are afraid to ask me for money.”
“I am not afraid.” She snarled, forcing me to meet her blazing gaze. “I’m not going to abuse your friendship. I’m managing fine on my own.”
“You call this fine?” I frowned. “You’re quite literally starving. You don’t even have juice.”
“Yeah, well, I was late on my payments and I had to pay extra to keep the lights on,” she shrugged nonchalantly. “One month without a ton of food won’t kill me.”
“That’s not the point.” I sighed heavily, not noticing how she had deliberately put her glass down and shifted closer to me. “The point is that you shouldn’t feel ashamed about asking me for help. I care about you.”
“You care about me? In what way?” Once again, I didn’t notice how her eyes were staring directly at my lips, nor how husky and dark her voice suddenly was. “This way?”
Next thing I knew, her lips were on mine.
On instinct, I pushed her away and stared at her wide-eyed, as she loomed over me with a pleading look on her face. I couldn’t believe it. She’d completely changed our relationship in a few seconds and been the only other woman I’d kissed in twenty three years, and there was no going back.
“W-what are you doing?” My voice had barely been above a whisper and I was certain that lighting was going to strike me.
“You said not to be afraid of asking for help,” she leaned closer. “I need you to help me live out the fantasies that have been roaming around in my head.”
She attempted to kiss me again, but I pushed her away and stood up.
“I-I can’t believe you.” I was shaking with anger, hurt, betrayal and lust. “You know that I have Maria!”
“Do you really love her?” She asked calmly as she stepped towards me, a sly yet vulnerable look on her face. She swung her lips deliberately and slowly as she made her way towards me, and didn’t stop until our chests touched. Jezebel was there in the flesh.
“Of course I do. What kind of question is that?” I frowned, not liking the way the shameless way in which her eyes roamed my body stiffened my bazooka.
“It’s just interesting to note that a man can truly love two women at the same time,” she said softly.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded as one of her hands lifted and tried to crawl over the bulge in my pants. I slipped it away. “W-What are you doing? I am married!”
“You know I am not doing well at the moment, Hlome. I don’t have money, I can’t find a job, nothing is going right for me. You are the only good thing in my life.”
I didn’t miss the subtle way she’d pulled down her already low cut shirt.
“I am sorry Forgiveness,” I shook my head. “I love Maria with all my heart and I can’t betray her like that. I am also a man of God, I can’t do this.”
“I need you.” She insisted and pressed her body firmly against me. Deciding that she was too close for my liking I backed away from her and ended up hitting the wall. I was trapped.
Her expression started to shift from seductive to powerful, controlling. She let out a small sigh, one that let me know that she was thinking of something.
“What?” I asked irritably.
“I’m just wondering if your wife knows how much time we have been spending together.” She closed the distance between us and pressed me harder into the wall. “I wonder how happy she’ll be about that.”
My eyes widened, but I managed to keep my composure. “She wouldn’t believe you.”
I pushed her away and immediately headed towards the door. I was roughly grabbed by the arm, shoved towards the door, and hard lips slammed against mine. I pulled her off me and left. My emotions were all over the place, so I didn’t know what to make of this new development. All I knew was that my body ached for pleasure, and those persuasive lips were engrained in my mind.
I wished I could say that this is where the story ended but this is where everything started to spiral. Up or down? I’m still not sure. All I know is, from the moment she offered herself to me, I made the worst decisions that led to some of the best moments of my life. Everything about Forgiveness started to look different in my eyes. Everything was more appealing, and everything made me suddenly want her as much as she apparently wanted me.
She apologised for coming on to me, explained that she wasn’t thinking straight. We both brushed the incident under the rug. The receptionist resigned at the car dealership where I worked, I told her about the vacancy and she got the job. I was determined to keep the relationship purely platonic and casual.
I was happily married and I was happy with my sex life. My wife behaved like a cold fish in bed at times but for the most part she fulfilled my sexual needs and she was everything I wanted and needed in a woman. I shoved Forgiveness at the back of my mind, stopped calling and texting and focused on my marriage.
Forgiveness and I sat on separate floors but I saw her all the time and, being the receptionist, she had to pop into my office ever so often for various reasons. We would digress and end up chatting up a storm. Looking back, she was always flirty. But you kind of lose touch when you have been married for a while, so I presumed that’s just how she was with guys.
There would be times when I thought she was giving me hints, but over two years passed without her making a move, I convinced myself it wasn’t aimed at me. When she walked in front of me in the corridor sometimes I thought she was giving her hips an extra swing with each step, walking slower on purpose, but it could have been in my head.
It was a corporate office, so she was usually in high heels, a pencil skirts, tight pants and jackets. I swear when we were working late she had a little more cleavage and that skirt was a little higher than during the day. It could have been the fact that I noticed her more in a closer environment. Either way, I noticed.
Everyone used instant messenger at work. Now and then we would chat about what we had been up to the night before, our plans for the weekend or the sermon I’d preached. When we were talking about a date she had been on and how she couldn’t find a decent guy, she posted:
“He wasn’t man enough. I’ve experienced a lot. I need someone that can handle me.”
Me: Handle you?
“Let’s just say I have a wild side.”
Naturally my mind played with all the things ‘wild’ could have meant, but I changed the subject. All the crazy sex she must have had during her wild days rolled around my mind for the next two weeks.
These may sound like excuses, but I just wanted to take the time to look back at it all. At how I let it build up, how I got myself into that situation. You know when you look into someone’s eyes and it can go from a normal conversation to some kind of sexual tease. We would be having lunch with a couple of people and I’d be convinced she was trying to eye fuck me, she would slowly lick her top lip from side to side. I told myself it was just fantasy, that I was horny and exaggerating it, for the majority it probably was all in my mind.
When you spend a lot of time with someone, the flirting lines blur, I guess I led her on now and then by asking her lots of questions and joking about personal stuff my wife did. She gave me a CD once, when I asked what was on it she told me it was ‘music to shag to’ then joked and said it was music she wanted me to listen to. I looked back at myself in that situation, wished I could reach in and slap myself with the sense to see what I was playing with.
A day came when we were having a huge promotion on all the cars in the dealership, complete with a braai and drinks. I had been oblivious to noticing Forgiveness looking like a wet dream come true in her royal blue cocktail dress. My mind was occupied with a fun workday filled with pointless banter and relaxation. I didn't get out often, I hardly ever socialised and the braai had been a nice diversion to my everyday life.
As the guys kept passing comments about her petite body in that figure hugging dress, it became harder not to notice Forgiveness. Her high heels gave her calves a shapely look. The bottom of her dress hinted at the place where her legs met the rest of her petite body. The top of the dress consisted of twin strands of material barely containing her perky tits before tying around her neck. Plenty of cleavage and bare back was exposed. I even noticed a few locks of her curly hair extensions had escaped the pinning on top of her head.
A large man towering over her small frame at the end of a long hallway evidently also saw what I saw in her. His hand caressed the bare skin of her back not hidden by her skimpy dress, while he nuzzled her ear. He was whispering something that was making her giggle. She teasingly pushed him away.
“She said get off!” I boomed. Adrenaline rushed through me. I could feel my heart beating in my chest at the thought of her letting that man or any other man touch her in places that I wanted to be. My body flushed with heat and sweat before nausea washed over me. She asked him to leave as I walked towards them. When the man left the two of us standing in the middle of the hallway I mumbled something stupid to explain away my possessiveness over what wasn’t mine.
“Jealous?” she purred.
Either she backed into me or I stepped forward but we bumped into each other. “Sorry” I said. She turned from her shoulders to look at me, urging me on. I felt this pulsing through my body, a kind of animal energy. I turned her all the way round, put a hand on her waist and kissed her.
“Sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t. I can’t. I’m married. Sorry,” I pulled back, looking down stupidly.
“Kiss me.” She said, putting her hand on my chest, leaning in, slowly kissing me, running her tongue over the inside of my lips and into my mouth.
"Look, I really can't do this. I want to but... I'm married," I softly said. My breathy tone revealed my state of arousal.
She took my hand and led me to a nearby storeroom. “It wouldn’t be fair to stop now, Hlome. We’ve been fighting the inevitable for years now.”
I tried not to think about what happened afterwards, blacked it out but I could remember it pretty clearly. I pushed her up against the wall, wrapped one of her legs around me. She undid my pants while I bunched her dress up and pushed her thong aside. We fucked with our clothes on. She was pretty noisy considering there were people marching up and down the hallway.
I blocked all thoughts from outside that room while it was going on. It was this aggressive, pent up, raw sex, but the second I plummeted from my climax a black doom rolled over me. I told her it could never happen again. I prayed, I fasted and did everything short of wearing sackcloth to cleanse myself and build will power to stop it from happening again but it happened again two weeks later.
From then on we were stealing kisses, seeing each other when we could and sneaking around like a couple of kids in high school. It made me feel young and alive. We often joked about how we are both going to hell because of what we were doing.
It was just two months into our whirlwind romance that she told me she had a very serious long-term boyfriend who split his time between Cape Town and Durban. I was furious and wanted nothing to do with her after that (or so I thought.) Having witnessed first-hand the turmoil and aftermath of an affair, I vowed I would stop being “that pastor.” Especially when my wife and I spent so much time counselling couples whose marriages was wrecked by infidelity.
Yet somehow, Forgiveness managed to reel me back in. She broke up with her boyfriend and made me promise that I would marry her. I made the promise and continued to see her for months to come. Guilt would wash over me in waves, and I would flip-flop back-and-forth from being overjoyed to feeling awful.
There were moments that I felt like I was the most malevolent person in the world—evil, deceitful, and a sad excuse for a man. And then other times, I pushed the idea of belonging to someone else out of my mind completely and convinced myself that it was just me and Forgiveness—looking the other way when my wife’s name would pop up while cuddling on the couch. In those moments felt nothing but happiness and completeness.
Guilty pleasure is an…. Interesting thing. It’s addictive, really. It’s manipulative. Your tastes start to change, wanting to experience more of the forbidden fruits. It makes you never want to be good again.
I was hooked. My heart was certainly doing all the thinking, with my brain following far behind. I became the liar and cheater and everything in between that I loathed in a person. It became hard to look in the mirror. All the lies consumed me.

It became an obsession to see Forgiveness. We had “our guesthouse” where we’d slip off to during lunch. I would dress up in the best suits chosen and ironed by my wife and groomed myself for Forgiveness. She made me feel so handsome and so ugly all at the same time. I was addicted and in love. Blinded by lust, it seemed clear what I had to do. I had to marry her.
I can’t tell you how many times I told her, “I will talk to Maria and my family about taking a second wife when the time is right. I can’t put you in this situation anymore.” We both knew it would be a hard sell but it’s what kept her waiting around.
Something I couldn’t admit to myself until the skeletons tumbled out of the closet was that I was in love with Forgiveness. What I had felt was beyond real, despite how wrong the relationship was.
I couldn’t call myself a victim—because I certainly knew what I was getting myself into—but I was heartbroken. I was now the man who screwed Forgiveness and Maria over and left them in pieces. They were hurting and I was probably the villain in the story but I was hurting too.
I also had to deal with the aftermath of being the person I swore I would never be. I swore I would never allow myself to cheat, and yet I allowed my heart to get in the way and went against my own morals. I felt like the scum of the earth, and I was in the process of letting go of the crippling guilt I felt whenever I thought about what my actions did to my children and my wife, especially now that I had no reason to push the thought of her out of my head.
The look on Maria’s face when she closed the door on our marriage and our home for the last time would stay with me forever. I thought she would come back. I survived on hope that we could scrape the pieces off the floor and put together something that resembled what most called a marriage. When the sheriff showed up at work with divorce papers I knew then that she wasn’t coming back. That knowledge was cemented by a call from her family that morning, informing me that her uncles wanted to meet to discuss my unwillingness to sign the divorce papers.
I couldn’t really say sorry for what I did, anything I did to make up for it brought attention to it. My father urged me to fix it. The fact that there was nothing wrong with our relationship in the first place made it even harder to fix it. My lies just sat there stewing like some sort of contagious disease that was slowly killing my wife, kids, my parents, Forgiveness….. me.
Now, as I sat weeping at the altar, praying for redemption. I knew my wife and I would never be the same again. Together or apart. Every teardrop represented a lie my body needed to purge in order to move on from the monster I had become.
After many hours spent crying out to God, I picked myself up and promised myself not to be so dumb again. I called Forgiveness and told her that I wouldn’t be coming to see her later. It was really over between us. All probabilities indicated that I was more likely to cheat in the future because of my past. But in my case, all of the betrayals that gave life to the monster inside me were dead and gone. Lesson learnt, I would never do it again. I just needed my wife to come home, I wanted my family to be whole again.
I gazed sullenly at the three stacks of resumes covering my desk and sighed. The piles were divided and labelled with sticky notes reading "No," "Hell no," and "If it comes down to that..." I was not surprised by the noteworthy number of admitted attorneys looking to fill various vacant positions at the firm. What surprised me was that their accompanying cover letters, every last one of them, was nondescript, arrogant and forgettable which portrayed a distressing lack of ability to humbly set out what set them apart from the rest.
My heart smiled when my phone buzzed and the words “Hubby” were splashed across the screen.
“Hey handsome.” I beamed.
"Hey hun, do you know what I've been thinking about?" Levi asked over the phone.
"Umm, me I hope?" I laughed.
"Well of course, but specifically I have been thinking about the first time I made you cum."
My cheeks reddened, "Oh my god, Levi...I'm at work and you are supposed to be at the press conference! You're so naughty."
"It was so sexy, feeling the inside of you for the first time, then feeling you cum on my two fingers."
"Hmmmm...I certainly enjoyed it. Everything was perfect that day."
"I can still hear the little sounds you made in my ear. I want to hear that again."
I laughed, "Well, you know how to make that happen, Mr. Cohan."
"…in public."
"You heard me," Levi laughed.
“Nyaope is not good my husband.” I joked. “What time is your press conference?”
“In about an hour.”
“So you are going to be sitting in front of the nation with a boner?”
“Not if I can convince my wife to take of that for me.”
“As tempting as that sounds, I’m having an early dinner with my mom when I get off work and it just feels wrong to show up with a just fucked face.”
Levi laughed, “I wasn’t aware that you had a just fucked face.”
“I know yours all too well. All sweaty and grinning like an ape.”
We giggled deliriously. “I do not grin like an ape.” Levi said emphatically when he actually did. “What are you doing now?”
“Trying to shortlist people but none of them are inspiring.”
Levi: Don’t be too harsh, give them a chance.
Me: Some disqualify themselves. I check their profiles on social media before I read their CVs to gauge their personality type, you will be shocked to see some of the stuff people post on Facebook.
Levi: That’s doesn’t seem fair. Status updates and pictures have nothing to do with work.
Me: According to Jean and Sarah, if you work here then you represent the brand at all times. We are looking for people that are pleasing to the eye, sophisticated and politically correct at all times. People like me.
Levi tittered, “Wow, you are sooooo modest.” He said sarcastically. “That’s no fun. You need the offbeat people to make the workplace fun and exciting.”
Me: Unfortunately you need to fit into a mould. I had to sit in on a performance appraisal this morning and the guy was told that he needs to lose weight.
Levi: What’s wrong with that?
Me: Babe, we aren’t soccer players here. I don’t see a problem with a person picking up some weight. Alas, he was told that he needs to shed a few pounds and I have to be the baddie that sends him a friendly reminder if we don’t see noticeable changes in three months.
“Well, you won’t be there in three months so someone else gets to be the baddie. I just sent you an sms with an address and instructions. Be a good girl and follow instructions issued by the head of the house.”
“Oh, we are pulling rank now?” I cooed.
“Yeah, I’m your boss. If you don’t listen to me I will storm off with my blanket.” He joked.
I laughed. “Remind me not to tell you about tiffs I have with people at work. Lest you turn poke fun at them.”
Levi: This Thato guy was tryna charm my wife with a blanket and his sweaty gym clothes, I don’t like him. Anyway, hurry up.
“Hurry up?” I asked.
“Read the message.”
Something told me that Levi was up to no good.
I parked my car next to Levi’s car in a dimly lit parking lot. I yelped in surprise when I opened the door and he pulled me inside. Soft music by Beyonce filled my ears as the lights from the dashboard cast shadows over the closeted Beyoncé fan’s sharp features.
“Are we going upstairs to one of the bathrooms or something?” I asked, convinced that I was high on something for even entertaining the idea.
“Nope. We are staying right here.” He smiled impishly.
“Oh, my god, Levi! People are doing to walk in here! We can’t do it here!”
“Sure we can. It’s dark and no one is gonna care anyway.”
My mouth might have been telling him no, but as he leaned over, I accepted his hot kiss without complaint. I smiled at the first taste of him, my hands flattened against his chest, my body leaned in as close as I could get to him with the console between us. I felt my nipples harden as his hands slid slowly up my arms as I tilted my head to deepen the kiss he sunk them into my long, thick brown hair.
He broke the kiss and leaned back a bit to reach between his legs, moving the seat as far back as it would go. I took the hint from the smile on his face and climbed over. My pussy was already throbbing and wet as I settled on his lap on the driver's side before resuming the kiss.
I groaned into his mouth as my pussy pressed against the length of his already hard cock just behind the opening of his formal pants. I was glad I wasn't the only one affected in the small space as I shifted my hips, pressing my sex full on against the bulge there.
He slid my jacket off and unzipped my dress before his hands moved to my shoulders pushing down the straps of my dress, the cool air moved over my skin like a light caress making my nipples hard as his mouth moved from mine to nip at the tender skin at the base of my throat. I ran my fingers through his hair as he licked and teased me there, both of us breathing heavy.
He dipped his head and captured one hard nip between his teeth. I gripped his head tighter as he ran his tongue slowly around my areola then flicked it across the tip. My back arched, pushing more of my breast into his mouth as his other hand came up, cupping and squeezing as his mouth drew me in slowly. I braced my hands on the roof as me teased me, my hips rocked against his, making my already wet pussy even wetter.
His hands trailed up my thighs slowly, under my dress. He groaned low in his throat as he realized I wasn't wearing anything under the little black slinky dress as instructed. The dress was hardly appropriate for the workplace but it had to so as I hadn’t slept home the previous night.
His hands gripped my ass and pushed me hard against his cock. I brought my hands to his head and lifted his face; kissed him as we ground against each other, dry humping in the small space. I knew if I kept this up, I could come without him laying a finger on me, just from the rubbing of his body against mine and the song, speechless, humming in the background. But I didn't want that, this was about him working off his nerves, not me.
I shifted slightly, slid my hands between us and gripped the top of his beige pants, tugged hard and slowly popped open his button. I looked up and smiled at him as his cock, hard and hot, popped out into my hand.
Seems I wasn't the only one to forgo under garments.
I wrapped my hand around his shaft and squeezed, sliding up and down as his hands moved over my breasts. I leaned closer and rubbed my clit against the head of his cock, moaning into his mouth as my body clenched in anticipation. I trailed my hands up, running my fingertips over his tight stomach as I slipped them under his shirt and tugged it over his head pressing myself close to him so my breasts were squashed against his bare chest.
We moved together as my wetness coated his cock, my clit throbbed as I bumped and ground it against the silky hardness of his shaft. I lifted off him, desperate to have him inside me as his hands gripped my hips and he shifted, positioning me over the tip.
The head of his cock opened me, I groaned as I sank down slowly, letting myself feel every inch as he slowly penetrated me. I arched my back, braced my hands on the roof of the car as my muscles gripped him tight. I slowly started to roll my hips, sweet sensations coursed up and down my body as I moved up and down.
I felt it coming, that tell-tale flutter in my lower belly. My pelvis came down against his harder, the sounds of our skin slapping against each other filled the car as I rode him harder and harder...reaching for that little taste of ecstasy that would render me speechless.
His hands never stopped. Teasing my nipples...cupping my breasts...and driving me higher and higher. He slid one down over my hip as his mouth took the place of his hands on my breasts and his fingers moved across my stomach to where we were joined. My body shook as his fingers opened me and started to stroke rhythmically over my hardened clit, I gripped his shoulders and slammed myself hard down on his cock as my pussy clenched around his cock, gripping him tight, his name a low moan on my lips.
"Yes baby, come for me."
His words were low and breathy as he took over the pace, his hands on my hips gripped me tight as he pulled me down hard against him. My body clamped around him like a vice as I moved with him, meeting his strokes, coating his cock as he fucked me harder and harder reaching for his own release.
I leaned forward, one hand snaking below him and gripping his lower back, pulling him hard against me as my teeth bit into the soft skin of his neck and shoulder. I half whispered and half groaned into his ear as his thrusts sped up, knowing it would set him off.
He tilted my head to look at his face, into his eyes. He indulged me with soothing words and ragged breaths accompanying each thrust as I took him in deeper and deeper, my nails digging lines into his ripped chest, taking in the feel of them, every little ridge there that separated one from the other. It was as if he could tell that I was spinning into trajectory and didn’t know what to do with myself but speak in languages that even I couldn’t understand as he tore that ass up, gently. I wanted to scream but I lost my voice and my ability to breathe.
His eyes were so connected yet so calm, they looked at me like they were reading my mind. Like everything I was thinking and feeling was written in my eyes. His hands moved over me like they were reaching a familiar place. Like they’d been there so many times before but still had so much more to explore. It’s like he knew me so well, but not at all. I was comfortable and amazed at the same time.
When I had just about made up my mind that Speechless purring in my ears was the best song in that moment Rocket looped over.
He swallowed me in his arms, grounding me when everything was spinning, and knuckles white from grabbing the headrest as we detonated from the sweet torment. I kissed him hard, our teeth hitting as I groaned into his mouth, as I felt his cock pulse and throb inside me, capturing his groans and low grunts in my mouth as he emptied himself deep.
I collapsed against his chest, my body like jello as I felt his cock slowly pull from me, our juices coating the insides of my thighs.
My head snapped up as I saw the red and blue lights flashing behind the car. "Shit!" We cried out in unison as I all but leaped from my position on his lap and dove into the passenger seat as we hurried to straighten ourselves, finishing just before the light rap on the window.
I couldn't help it and laughed quietly to myself as Levi lowered the fogged glass and blinked into the bright flashlight that shone in his eyes.
"Everything ok here folks?"
The security guard’s voice had a trace of amusement in it. Every window in the car was fogged up from the heat we had generated was a dead giveaway.
"Everything is fine Sir...we were just umm...talking?"
I tried not to smile as Levi’s statement came off as more of a question than an answer.
The security guard looked us both over then pulled back, "Well I trust your 'conversation' is over now... next time wait until you get home to have a ‘chat.’ "
His emphasis was on the words conversation and chat; letting us know that he knew exactly what we were up to when he'd arrived.
We both laughed out loud as he went on to finish his rounds, feeling like kids who got caught with their hands in the cookie jar. My promise rang clear in my words as I spoke, "We will 'talk' more at home baby...maybe a 'chat' in the shower?"
“Of course.”
My attention was diverted to my ringing phone. I fished the device out of the pocket of my jacket and let out a sign of relief when an unknown number was displayed on my screen, glad it wasn’t someone at the office looking for me.
“Don’t answer babe, they will call back.” Levi urged.
“Hello?” I answered, being the stubborn person that I was.
“Hi, is this Thandolwethu Khoza speaking?” A male voice asked.
Me: Yes.
“You are speaking to Grace Mashesha from Drum magazine. I was hoping to set up sometime with you to get your comment on a story I’m working on.”
I was confused, “A story?”
“The story around your abortion and subsequent pregnancy. I believe you are pregnant with Luvuyo’s child. You might want to also comment on how the abrupt end of your six year relationship with Sandiso landed him in a mental institution.”
My stomach knotted. I couldn’t think fast enough. Levi’s mother, my mother and Levi were the only ones that knew about the abortion and I just couldn’t figure out who leaked the story to the papers.
“Who is that babe?”
I looked at the face and brand that was going to be tarnished and immediately regretted giving up on our no-phone policy during after play.
“Wrong number,” I managed to muffle with a voice so shaken with shock, I could barely make out the words and cut the call.
“Doesn’t seem like it was a wrong number.” I sometimes hated how well Levi knew me. I couldn’t tell him just before he had to face the nation in a press conference.
“It was. You’ve worked off your nerves now I am nervous for you.” I averted his gaze and started wiping the lipstick off his lips and cheek. “I have to get back to the office.”
He smiled. “Okay, we will ‘chat’ later.”
“Yeah, we will chat later.”
If only he knew we had two completely different conversations in mind.

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