Unscripted love Chapter 72 - Mzansi Stories

Thursday, July 14


Unscripted love Chapter 72


Broken Crayons Still Colour
The delivery man placed the last box of Our Love’s stuff in our house. He set it in the room we were using as temporary storage and looked up. The room was filled with plastic bags of stuff Our Love packed in haste and boxes packed by the moving company we hired to fetch the rest of her belongings when her parents eventually vacated her apartment. I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face because I’d been waiting for this for so long.
“Babe, where are you?” I placed my hands on my hips as I yelled out for her.
“I’m in the kitchen.” She stepped out of the kitchen with some silverware in her hands and her phone glued to her ear. She had on an old white shirt that was a bit big, some jeans and her uggs that I really hated. She also had a beanie on her head. I guess this is what she really looked like when she was at home but she still looked beautiful.
She smiled then stepped back in the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen and wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her on the side of the head. “I’m talking to Futhi.” Thando mouthed to me before she placed her hand over the speaker and asked me for the name of the period pain medication I got for her. 
“Nurofen period pain.” I said just above a whisper. Thando passed on the message and spoke to Futhi briefly about places to go on dates while I leaned against the fridge, waiting to get a scoop.
“Are you going to help me unpack?” Thando asked me as she got off the phone.
“Are you going to tell me about Futhi’s boyfriend?” I answered a question with a question.
“The poor girl is having one of those I-can’t-even-walk or feel my legs period pains, hopefully the pills will give her some relief. I am so glad I get a break from periods for nine months. I-“
“The boyfriend?” I asked impatiently.
Thando: Futhi is keeping her cards very close to her chest and she doesn’t want to discuss her love life. All I know is that his name is Nkosi but he isn’t a boyfriend, it seems like they are just getting to know each other. He asked her out on a date but he wants her to come up with ideas so I was helping her brainstorm. She is tight lipped about him so all I know is that he is 18 and he goes to Hilton College.”
I gasped. “That is the most expensive school in SA. His parents must be loaded.”
Thando shrugged. “Loaded or not I’m just glad Nkosi is going to distract her from that paedophile. I have tried to get her to talk about Solomon to no avail. She won’t even entertain the idea of going to the police to file rape charges against him.”
Me: I still cannot believe Futhi had sex with Solomon of all people. Were they even dating?
Thando: I didn’t even know that they were a thing. He still has the audacity to call and pester me about marriage. In his head he made a mistake and I made a mistake so we should forgive each other and get married like God planned.
I laughed. “He is still talking about marriage? Who in their right mind would marry a person who has slept with their sister?”
“That man is psychotic and I will not rest until I expose him. It’s a pity I can’t really do much about it, Futhi is an adult in the eyes of the law and she insists it was consensual even though she was intoxicated at the time. Are you going to help me pack?” Thando asked as she put more silverware away.
“Nope. We paid people to do that so we can just chill and maybe have a ‘chat.’” I chuckled and pulled her closer to my body.
“Babe we have to unpack. We’ll do that later, I promise.” She peeled my arms off her and placed them on my side. “Help me put stuff away.” She tapped my bum and went back to putting silverware away.
One thing my wife was yet to know about me is that I am lazy. Very, very lazy and spoilt. Growing up I never had to pack or unpack my own bags, do my own bed, run my own bath or take my plate to the kitchen, someone was paid to do that for me. I rang a bell and whoever was on duty was at my service.
I walked into the living room and started unpacking some boxes. I came across a picture in one of the boxes and it was of Our Love and I when we went ice skating. Granted, Sandiso was there and a couple of other people but I was only interested in her that day. I smiled as I examined the picture closely. I couldn’t remember why we were laughing. I slowly brought up my hand and brushed some dust off the glass in the frame. After looking for it for a while I set it down on the coffee table then looked back in the box.
Next I found a makeup case. I realised that this box was supposed to be in our bedroom. I carried the box with both my arms and walked down the hallway. I tripped over another box and some of her things fell out.
“Are you okay, Levi?” Our Love yelled from the kitchen since she heard a thud when my body and the full box hit the floor. “I’m fine, love.” I yelled back in response. I stood up and brushed some dust and dirt off my outfit. Then I leaned over and started pulling the stuff that fell out back in the box. I picked up a small bag that was unzipped. When I looked inside the bag I saw unmarked CDs in a case.
I placed the small bag on top of the box and carried it to the bedroom. Curiosity and laziness got the best of me. I stopped unpacking and powered up my laptop. I slotted an unmarked CD in, I was greeted by the sight of a woman only wearing a balaclava lying on her stomach, facing away from the camera. Her legs were slightly parted, and I could just barely see the smooth, pinkish lips of her pussy peeking out.
I went back to a conversation Thando and I had about pornography and masturbation when we first started dating. I had told Our Love that I watched porn from time to time. She seemed embarrassed to talk about it, and I came away from that conversation fairly sure that she would never look at porn. But now, it seemed, I had been wrong. I had no idea I was with such a naughty little pervert and I liked it. I quietly sat on the bed, deciding to enjoy this arousing scene for a bit while I decide what to do.
Back on the bed, she spread her legs a little wider, giving her easier access to be able to touch herself at the instance of the cameraman whose terrible Arabic accent was clearly put on. Her fingers glided over her dampening lips and she continued to lightly stroke herself as the scene filled my laptop screen causing my cock to stiffen.
The cameraman put the camera down and came into view wearing a balaclava. They were both bony which gave me the impression that they were young. They kissed and caressed each other's naked bodies, hands grabbing asses, lips brushing necks and tongues teasing hardening nipples. Eventually, he turned her around and led her to the bed, laying her down on her stomach. I felt my arousal becoming physical at the scene before me. My cock was straining against my pants as I watched him making contact with her clit while she waved her cute little ass in the air, and I knew I had to do something about the sexual hunger I was feeling.
Her fingers continued to dance across her clit as he leaned down and lightly kissed her ankle. He then proceed to run his tongue slowly up the back of her leg, as if following an old fashioned stocking seam. When he got to her ass he give her cheek a little love bite, and I heard her take in a sharp breath. He give the spot a kiss and continued his journey, licking up to her back and then over to her tailbone. The hand she was not finger-fucking her pussy with was grabbing violently at the sheets.
He now put his hands on her ass cheeks, parting them slightly. Her fingers were busy on her clit as he slowly ran his cock down her crack, stopping just before her asshole. I could almost feel his anticipation as I focused on her for a moment, listening to the moaning from the video and heavy breathing from her. She pushed her ass back a bit, wanting to be invaded, but he teased her for a while - coming close, but not quite delving into her sensitive spot.
But it could only go on like that for so long. It is like he was teasing himself as well, and he finally give in, sinking balls deep into her. He took his time pleasuring her and I could tell that they had a genuine chemistry as he moulded her like putty in his hands. Her orgasm was definitely starting to build thirty minutes into him flipping her in different positions and finally, pulling her to the edge of the bed and popping her legs open into a v for deeper penetration. The idea of how dirty I was being for watching them almost equalling how good what's being done to her must have felt as her body convulsed.
He removed her fingers from her clit, took them into his mouth and sucked on them, leaving her gasping and whimpering. I couldn’t help but grunt as I watched her toes curl and her legs quake with passionate abandon.
“Fuck… baby I’m about to cum again.” She moaned and almost immediately she squirted. I froze at the sound of Thando’s voice and slammed the laptop shut. I stared at the closed laptop in front of me in disbelief, wishing I could unsee my wife getting fucked by someone else. Someone who evidently fucked her better than I did. I could only recall one time when we came close to having sex that long and we were drunk and high. Needless to say I didn’t even know she was a squirter.
“Levi, I have been calling you. Please come and help me pack stuff in the top shelf. I can’t reach and I don’t want to risk falling off a chair.” Thando requested as she stuck her head through the door.
“I’ll be there in a second.” I quickly slid my laptop back in my bag. I swiftly moved down the hallway and into the kitchen. I saw Thando standing there with a box full of fancy looking tea cups.
“Mom got these for me when I moved out. I’ll bring them out when we have special guests.” She gushed over the white and gold set while I was nursing my bruised ego.
I walked up close to her. “Would you say that you are happy with our sex life?” I found myself asking as I took them from her. She tilted her head slightly in confusion.
“Y-yes why?” she hesitated, an indication that she was lying.
“Yes, really. Where is this coming from?” She questioned.
“It’s not exactly what you are used to, or rather the best sexual experience you’ve had.” I mumbled.
She put her hands on her hips and gave me a confused but annoyed kind of look. “Is this because I wanted to unpack instead of having sex?” she crossed her arms over her chest. I didn’t want her to know that I now knew just how substandard I was compared to other people she’d been with in the past.
“I was just thinking…. forget I said anything.”
She snatched the tea cups from my hands and placed them on the kitchen counter. “I am sorry for saying that you climax in the blink of an eye. I was angry.” She said and wrapped her arms around my neck.
“Yeah.” I smiled awkwardly. “Before I forget, my family is organising a farewell mini holiday for me over the long weekend. Mom asked me to invite you to join us in Plettenberg Bay.” I told her, changing the subject.
“Do you want me to be there?”
“Of course. Why would you even ask that?”
“Because we seem to be asking questions that each of us should know the answers to this afternoon. Why are you asking about our sex life? Is there something that I’m not doing right or something?” Her question came out as more of a desperate whisper. I wasn’t intending on making her feel insecure.
She let go of me and bent over, about to pick up a contraption that looked like a giant bowl with a huge whisk, but before she could I swooped her up and ran with her in my arms to our bedroom. “You are squashing the baby,” she said between giggles.
“We have paid people to unpack, let them do their job.” I said before I set her down. “You must lay down and relax.” I commanded her. She rolled her eyes at me with a smile.
“Babe, thanks for caring but I don’t want to spend half my lifetime trying to figure out where they slotted stuff in.” She tried to walk past me but I kept blocking her way.
“Let me pass.” By listening to her voice I could tell she was getting annoyed.
“No.” I wrapped my arms around her so her arms were on her side so she couldn’t move or escape. I lifted her up and put her back on the bed.
“Fine, I’ll lay down.” She threw her hands up in the air in defeat. I threw myself next to her.
She rolled over to her side and looked at me. “Please tell me why you were asking about our sex life.”
“We never really talk about it. I just wanted to make sure that you are happy.” I said, pulling off her beanie and placing it on top of my head.
“I am happy.” She said, “I am also scared.”
Her response caught me by surprise. “What are you scared of?”
Thando: I don’t really talk about my fears and internal struggles because I don’t want to drag issues I had in my past relationships into this one but I cannot deny that I’ve been hiding behind convenient excuses to justify me not moving in. The reality of it all is hitting me. I have drafted my resignation letter, I’ve packed my life and I am essentially trusting you with it. There is no easy escape for me should things go pear shaped and that’s freaking me out.
“I don’t want you to freak out.”
“I don’t want to either but I just can’t help it. The whole documentary thing just made me realise that they are so many things that I haven’t dealt with and I’m thinking of getting professional help. I cry all the time and I am tired of crying, I am tired of hurting and I am tired of only being truly happy when you are around. It’s almost like I am getting to a point where I need you to survive and that’s not healthy.”
I cupped her cheek and kissed the tip of her nose. “What’s making you sad? You know you can talk to me about anything.” I assured her.
I knew I could talk to Levi about anything without fear or reservation. Even as friends we got along great. He was considerate and loving, even when we had a difference of opinion. My opinion was valued, my wishes respected, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to go out of his way to show me that he loved me. I felt safe in the safe haven he created for us.
However, I didn’t want to get into it because I wanted us to enjoy our first day living together as husband and wife so I told him we would talk about it after we watched the rough cut of the documentary. While filming the documentary I was probed to talk about so many things and I didn’t realise the long term effects of my relationship with Sandiso until Levi and I sat in front of the TV, plugged in the uncut DVD and I heard myself talking about some of the things Sandiso and I battled with.
According to the interviewer, who’d done extensive research and spoken to tons of women who were sexually violated by their partners the rape was never an isolated incident and he wanted me to travel back in time and talk about the side of the relationship that was hidden to the outside world.
I spoke about the first time things got physical and a time when he started working and got his own place. I went there to visit him for a week. When I opened his closet everything was folded exactly the same and the clothes on the hangers were sorted by category and colour, going from dark to light with the tops on the left and the pants and underwear (which was pressed) on the right. I’d always been a sloppy person and was sure that by the next morning, everything would be a mess again. I would soon learn that such a mind-set was not acceptable nor tolerated.
He showed me how to iron the creases out of his clothes, how I had to lay out his clothes each day and pack his lunch. I grew up in a household where my mother spent her whole life waiting hand and foot on my father so I didn’t see anything wrong with Sandiso’s arm long list of requirements. I just wasn’t sure that I’d live up to his expectations, when I voiced my concerns he shrugged them off.
“Don’t worry, baby, I will teach you everything you need to know and I promise I’ll be patient and try not to get angry when you put the wrong thing at the wrong place.”
I found his statement odd but didn’t think much of it at the time. I was excited about him having a job, being away from home, staying up for as long as I wanted and being with Sandiso. I could do whatever I wanted because there were no rules – or so I thought.
Later that night when he checked his e-mails, he became enraged. Apparently, he had applied too late for a course and his application was unsuccessful because it was fully booked.
“I’m telling you,” he shouted. “For the amount I have to spent paying that damn institution, they should be more accommodating. This is ridiculous. If they don’t have enough spaces, they should work on their infrastructure.”
“Maybe you’ll get in next year. You have work, you have things to do at church and you are learning how to DJ. It’s too much for one person.”
He blinked at me irritably, then slammed his phone on the chair he was using as a pedestal. “It will be fine. I have you now to do the housework and that will free up some of my time.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “I will be busy with work when I get a job.”
He pulled me to his lap, the anger forgotten. “Things will work out the way I want them to. You’ll see.” He kissed me longingly. “I love you so much. I’m so glad we are together.”
I lived for those moments. I would do just about anything to make him happy and experience that version of him. I needed to remain the woman of his dreams so he wouldn’t leave me because being all alone was one thought I couldn’t handle.
The next morning, I was surprised that he got dressed in one of his finest suits when it wasn’t a workday. “Help me with the tie, will you?” he demanded. I straightened the tie and looked at him approvingly. He was wearing an expensive pinstriped suit with a starched white collar shirt and a navy tie. The black Italian shoes cost more than a small TV. Sandiso had the persona of an actor, dressing and acting like a chameleon to suit whichever crowd he would be with on a particular day.
“Do you have a business meeting or something?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, observing himself critically in the mirror. “I’m going to church.”
“Any particular reason why you didn’t wake me up for church?” I asked, concerned.
“You have to clean and cook so that the food is ready by the time I get home.” He kissed my forehead.
“Very funny.” I said sarcastically. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to hang out with Danger and Mindloz at this new establishment where all these fancy people hang out. I think they want to scout it for potential business, the odd expensive car here and there, but I’m just going to hang out.”
I froze. I had totally forgotten about his connection to violent criminals and had actually thought he cut ties when he went on the straight and narrow.
“Are you still working with them?” I was almost too afraid to ask.
“No, we are just hanging out. Don’t look so scared, honey. I’m not into that anymore.” He laughed.
“What if the police find out about the things you used to do and they arrest you? God, what if I am roped in as a witness?”
“Then I’d have to marry you straight away.”
I was confused. “What difference would that make?”
“There is a law called marital privilege. They can’t make you testify against me if we are married.”
My heart was pounding at the thought of becoming his wife. There was nothing more I wanted.
“I wouldn’t mind being Mrs Yende,” I hushed.
He chuckled. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I don’t want to rush into things.” Getting married after five years of dating was hardly rushing in my mind.
“OK.” I mumbled meekly.
He pulled me into his arms. “I have to go. I expect dinner ready at six. Make pap and beef stew.” He instructed. He planted a kiss on my mouth, gave me money for groceries and was off.
When I was done unpacking and arranging my clothes in accordance with his specifications I went to the supermarket to buy a few things. I felt very adult like when I paid with money I didn’t get from my parents and was very excited to cook for me and my man.
My high spirits didn’t last long. Just before six, Sandiso arrived home and from the slamming of the door, I knew things must not have gone as planned. His eyes were dark with anger when he stepped into the kitchen. He looked utterly tense and stressed.
“What happened?” I asked.

“The guy we paid to make a docket disappear resigned. Some idiot reopened the case and he has been asking too many questions.”
I stared at him with wide eyes. “Can they do that?” I was really scared and I did not want him to go to jail.
“Yep.” He flung himself into the kitchen chair. “They can investigate a murder whenever they want.”
“You killed someone?” I was afraid of the answer.
“Don’t be stupid. I was there but I was shoving money into a bag, I didn’t even see which one of the guys pulled the trigger. I told the guys to leave me out of it if they get caught because you gave me a solid alibi.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of lying to the police again. “Do I have to talk to the police again?”
He grinned smugly and caressed my cheek. “I don’t think so. But I will be laying low and I’ll avoid being seen with them. I don’t want to be there if cops show up.”
I nodded. He scanned the kitchen and frowned.
“What is this?” he asked with almost solid black eyes, his hand pointing at the stove in a swooping motion.
“I’m cooking dinner.” I said proudly.
He went rigid, his whole body hostile. “Look at this mess,” he shouted. “It will take you hours to clean up.” He was, of course, exaggerating, the kitchen didn’t look that bad.
“What the hell are you making? I told you to make pap and stew.”
I didn’t realise the danger I was in when I laughed it off. “Come on baby, I’m almost done making ravioli. Why don’t you get the plates?”
The blow to my head was totally unexpected. And knocked me off my feet. I tasted blood in my mouth.
“No,” he yelled. “You will clean this up now and you will make what I tell you to make.”
I wasn’t quick enough on my feet and a kick to my stomach followed his initial assault. I cried it out, instinctively rolling myself up into a ball to protect my belly and face.
“Get moving,” he growled.
I crawled to my hands and knees towards the stove and pulled myself up. With trembling hands I threw out the food I’d just prepared and began feverishly wiping away the sauce splashes and the residue of where the obliging water had flooded the stove.
The cloth fell out of my trembling hands and I picked it up. Seeing as I was in shock, I forgot to rinse it before I carried on wiping the two plate stove. All I saw was the cloth flying out of my hand and Sandiso’s furious eyes. I screamed as he grabbed me by my hair and tossed me against the wall. “You filthy pig,” he hollered.
He unfastened his belt from his pants and raised his arm. I shrieked when the leather ate into my cheek, the pain soared through my head all the way to the depth of my skull. The next blow hit me right across my chest. Tears started to wet my face, burning the small cut he left with his first strike.
“Please, Sandiso,” I screeched, sobs battling my body. “Baby, STOP.”
He was merciless. He antagonised me until I was shaking from tears and agony. My whole body was throbbing when he finally stopped, he finished me off with a kick to my back.
“Clean this up and if you forget even the smallest spot, I will beat you until you are unable to move. Have I made myself clear?”
I didn’t respond.
His fingers pulled my hair, tilting my head back, his mouth right next to my ear. “I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Tell me you love me.” He hooted.
“I-I love you.” I whimpered.
Sandiso let go and slowly rose. “I will go down to the restaurant and get myself something to eat.” He was calm, his eyes three shades lighter. “I expect you to be done and ready for bed by the time I get back.”
“Okay,” I muttered, hoping this wouldn’t enrage him any further. He left, banging the door behind him.
In total anguish and deadly fear, I started to follow his orders. By the time he came back, I had managed to get the kitchen spotless and was already in bed, pretending to be asleep. He was drunk and snored next to me. I was up most of the night, crying silently into his pillow, unable to twitch a single muscle without any pain. Those nights would become my new reality.
“After Sandiso beat you in the kitchen, how did you feel?” The interviewer asked.
I watched myself glare at him viciously like he’d stolen something from me. At that point I remember wondering why he wanted to talk about our fights prior to the rape as I felt they had nothing to do with the rape. I’d also swept the incidents under the rug but he wanted to uncover it and dissect all the emotions.
“How did you feel?” He asked again.
“Upset, I guess.”
He looked down at the shredded tissue in my hand and passed me the box of tissues that was next to him. “Would you care to elaborate?”
I closed my eyes as I tried to keep the pain and despair out of my voice because I didn’t want people feeling sorry for me or looking at me like I was a wounded chicken. “I was devastated. My whole world came apart at the seams and I had no control over it. I was hurt not only physically but also emotionally because I didn’t understand how the man I loved could ever do that to me. But most of all I was confused.” I finally answered.
“What were you confused about?” The interviewer asked and placed his ankle on his knee.
Now being an insider looking in I could understand his confused expression, there was nothing confusing about what I’d just told him and any reasonable person would have left the relationship at that point.
“A lot of things. If I still wanted to be with him, who I was outside of the relationship. But most of all I started to question what made him the way he was. I guess deep within I felt I could fix him.”
“Did you talk to him about it?”
“Yes. I remember his pain stricken face the next morning when he looked at me and realised what he’d done. He broke down and cried. Sandiso admitted that his adoptive father used to beat him and his adoptive mother. I mean, all the time. He said there was hardly a day he didn’t sleep on his stomach because of his father’s spanking. His mother got it even worse.”
“Did you stay because you felt sorry for him?”
Fresh tears shot in my eyes when I heard that question again because after all that had happened I still felt sorry for Sandiso and I still hoped that he would change, this time not for me but for the next person and for himself. I wouldn’t say I stayed not only because I felt sorry for him, I stayed because that was the only version of love that I knew. Anything better was something that only existed in books and magazines.
I felt Levi’s arms grip tighter around me as a gentle reminder that he was there, the glue that was keeping me together.
“Do you want to take a break and watch the rest later?” Levi asked, having paused the recording.
“No,” I squeaked. He pressed play.
“I think if he hadn’t told me that, I would have left him forever. He begged me to stay. He promised he would get help, go to therapy, anything to change. He insisted he needed me to get through it, he couldn’t do it alone. He said I was the only reason why he still got up in the morning and that he would kill himself if I ever left. I actually packed my bags and left the relationship that day. Later that night I got a call from his mother informing me that he was in hospital because he overdosed on prescription medication.”
The interviewer gave me a moment to compose myself before shooting the next question: “When he recovered did he keep any of his promises?”
“He changed for a while, everything was calm and it’s almost like we went back to the honeymoon stage of our relationship where he was the only thing that mattered to me as I was the only thing that mattered to him. The good times were really good.
He would cry in my arms for hours while telling me gruesome tales about his childhood where his father had even beaten his mother to a pulp. He would make him sit and watch to show him what would happen to him if he continued to mouth off.
Those were the times that motivated me to stay, firmly believing that I could love him through the hurt and fix him. I didn’t realise that this would have required many years of serious professional help. I was convinced that if I loved him enough and did things that made him happy, he would become the man I wanted and needed him to be. I felt so sorry for him and justified his outbursts that were related to his trauma. I convinced myself that it was as much as my fault as it was his because I provoked him by not listening or not doing things as instructed.
I was certain he would stop, that our love would prevail in the end. That he would learn how to control his anger but it just became a vicious cycle. I convinced myself that he showed he cared about me in different ways, even though I wasn’t not entirely sure that his ways were healthy. Ultimately, I believe he raped me because he was hurting.”
“Speaking of the rape. Take me through what happened that fateful day.”
Levi and I continued to watch silently, taking mental notes of the parts that I didn’t want in the final cut, especially the parts where I was incriminating myself or anything gang related out of fear that those names would find me and kill me to shut me up.
In the end I was amazed that I somehow stuck around. Sandiso was good at getting into my head, I was vulnerable, in love and I had a low self-esteem. I was a broken child masquerading around as a woman.
Occasionally, I tried to end things but I was always drawn back by Sandiso’s poetic words and stories aimed to tug at my heart strings, explaining why he was the way he was and why it was my fault. He just broke me down until I didn’t feel I was worth anything. It got to the stage where I didn’t believe that I could have a better life – or even survive – without him. He would sweeten the deal by being on his absolute best behaviour and giving me a glimpse of the person I wanted, the man I fell hopelessly in love with. I hung in there and watered the thorns for the sake of the rose because losing Sandiso was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t know then that I would find myself if I lost him.
In retrospect, it’s hard to believe I allowed myself to be treated that way. I hoped now I valued myself enough to not allow anyone to treat me that way again and that I wouldn’t forget that relationships are meant to build you as a person not destroy you.

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