Unscripted love Chapter 99 - Mzansi Stories

Monday, September 19


Unscripted love Chapter 99


Sometimes our feelings are so deep, they become our graves. Unknown.
Tears streamed down my face as I pulled the blanket on the couch closer to me. I was too proud to admit I had made a mistake, even though Alu deserved to know the truth about the person he wanted to marry.

I wiped my face and sniffled. Leaning my head back, I tried to keep my eyes from watering again, but it didn’t help – more tears just kept streaming. Telling myself to suck it up that I only had myself to blame wasn’t helping either. Usually I had all my emotions totally under control, but the week that passed was the other way around, and I couldn’t stand it.
In my quest to take off the load emotionally and come clean I didn’t stop to think that Alu could call off the engagement and end our relationship, I just assumed love would make him stay. When he asked for his ring back and told me to get out of the car I felt like a dinosaur kicked me in the gut. I sat in his car and I tried to explain myself for hours but there is no way to sufficiently explain betrayal. Heartbreakingly — and unpredictably — Alu pawned the ring and he never wanted to see me again.
When he called my mother and told her that his uncles weren’t coming anymore because I was sleeping with a married man I felt like a proper slut. Alu and my mother hadn’t spoken to me all week and I couldn’t really blame them.
My fingers dug into my pocket and fished out my cigarette pack. I was in desperate need of one after the events of that week. On the bright side, Thuthuka took leave and came to stay with me as soon as he heard about my philandering ways. At least one person, well two with Thando, didn’t think I brought shame to the family. But there was still that empty feeling in the pit of my stomach that was pushing me towards the edge.
Uncle Mayihlome was no longer the hot topic at family gatherings – my poor choices were. Him reneging on the divorce settlement agreement and filing papers stating that he wanted spousal maintenance from aunty Maria when he found out she had a new job in Johannesburg wasn’t enough to overshadow my wrongdoings. It let out a sadistic laugh that doubled almost as a whimper when my tears caught up with it.
It’s what I deserved to be honest. The blurriness in my eyes didn’t let up as I lit up my cigarette and breathed in the foul air. At this point, I didn’t even care about my own rules about smoking in the house.
A shaky breath left my lips after I took another deep drag of the cigarette.
The sudden voice made me jump and I dropped my half-used cigarette in my tea, putting it out immediately. A small trail of smoke disappeared above the mug.
“You are crying.” Thuthuka sat down next to me with a concerned expression on his face. “What happened? Did Kwame call again?”
He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.
I accepted it gratefully, I used it to wipe a couple of tears away. “I don’t know how to heal from this but I’m okay, really.”
He sent me a sympathetic smile. “If everything were okay you wouldn’t be crying.”
That was a fair point, but I wouldn’t let him know that he was right. I was not okay. I broke a heart and my own heart was broken. I looked down to where my fingers were plucking at a loose string on my sleeve.
“It’s alright to be upset, you wasted many years on that man,” he added.
When I continued to avoid looking at him, he lifted my chin so I’d meet his gaze. The coolness of his fingers comforted my overheating skin. My eyes were closed for a second before I opened them to peer into his.
There was concern in his eyes as his thumb brushed away another fallen tear. Tingles travelled up my spine and the sympathetic gaze he was giving me didn’t waver, even when I dropped mine. I regretted my own weakness. Nothing sickened me more than appearing weak in front of someone with such presence.
“You know,” Thuthuka suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. “It may hurt now but this is for the best. You say that you tried to leave the relationship many times before, maybe you needed this to finally leave Kwame. People are talking about you and they are judging you but all of this will pass. A young and beautiful girl like you can do better than being played by a married man. Alu is successful and all but you can do also better than a chubby teletubbie. You are better off without both of them.”
However inappropriate, his words were touching, and I was starting to find inner peace. It was hard to find someone who actually cared for me these days, and it was a refreshing feeling. I gathered all my oncoming tears on the handkerchief, holding back my urge to blow my nose in it.
“Thanks,” I said, somehow managing a smile. “Enough about me and my love triangle. How was it like meeting your niece?”
“Uluthando is cute and all but I don’t know how to relate to Thandolwethu anymore. This cousin of mine is my sister all of a sudden, its just weird.” Thuthuka admitted.
“The relationship you had before doesn’t need to change.”
He shook his head vehemently, “Mentally, it changes everything but we are trying to work on that brother and sister bond. Futhi and I on the other hand, don’t have anything in common. She makes me feel like a sinner that’s on the bus headed straight to hell.”
I chuckled. “She makes me feel that way too.”
“Yoh, Sbahle people are going to lose their minds when they find out that Thandolwethu is working on a song with an award winning DJ. Its all hush hush so don’t tell anyone.”
This came as a shock to me. “Thando is recording music now?”
He nodded. “The DJ saw a YouTube video of her singing at Levi’s farewell party and he got in touch with her. Nobody can say no to that man, she agreed to record the song to make some money seeing as she is struggling to get a job.”
“Wow, I am so happy for her. The job search has been depressing her and I really hope she gets something soon.” I said.
Thuthuka got up and headed to the door when we heard a gentle knock on my door. Expecting it to be aunty Maria I quickly hid the mug with the cigarette behind the couch. I swung my legs off the couch but then was stopped in my tracks. It felt as though I had been paralyzed by some unseen, mind numbing force. Thoughts flew discordantly through my mind, as I tried, and at first failed to comprehend the scene before me.
The lumbering hulk of a woman stood in front of Thuthuka, a scowl clear on her face. When she stepped into the apartment it took me a second to place the familiar looking face, Genevieve.
What was Genevieve doing here? How did she even know where I lived? I wondered. She walked into my apartment with an elderly woman dressed in traditional attire. I was certain that Genevieve was there to beat me up for sleeping with her husband and brought reinforcements with her for back up. I stood there in anguish and waited for her to hurl insults or throw the first blow but we all stood in the middle of my living room, silent.
My amateur detective mission I’d set myself came to fruition. I had amassed the clues and every shred of evidence and I’d finally closed in on my quarry.
I could still feel my thudding heart and the dizzy wave of nausea that settled over me as the moment approached when I would finally confront ‘her’. The other woman. The side peace. The mistress. The bit on the side. Whatever name I chose to call her, she amounted to the same thing.
She was the woman with whom my husband, Kwame, was having an affair with. The woman for whom he was willing to sacrifice our marriage and the happy home we’d built for our two sons and our daughter. And there she was, standing in front of me. All I had to do was keep my nerve and get all the answers to the questions I felt compelled to ask.
Sbahle’s look of blank perplexity turned to shock when Kwame’s mother held out her hand for a handshake and said, “I’m Lahari, your lover’s mother.”
I watched the color drain from Sbahle’s face and in that instant I felt the world recede. I could not tell you how the man who answered the door reacted, he excused himself and ducked into a bedroom. All I knew was that my detective work had paid off. Here I was, face to face with the woman who’d destroyed my life.
Until then I’d envisaged Kwame’s lover as a younger and more successful version of me. She was nothing like me in her cheap jeans and a lurid purple vest top. I felt relieved, but also perplexed, that she wasn’t what I called his type. She was half his size for a start and she looked young. I simply couldn’t picture them together.
Sbahle, meanwhile, was dumbstruck. I didn’t introduce myself, I already knew that she knew who I was. She meekly slid into the kitchen and reemerged with tea and biscuits like we were regular visitors popping in for a friendly visit.
“Kwame and I broke up over a month ago,” she spluttered when she found her voice. This was swiftly followed by her first ‘I’m sorry’, then another and another. On auto-pilot, I sat back and listened to my mother in-law telling us that we needed to talk woman to woman, lay it out on the table so we could move forward.
Sbahle proceeded to tell us everything. She met my husband at a bar where she worked as a waitress, they had an instant connection which somehow led to him stepping in and putting her through school. They’d been in an on and off relationship throughout our marriage. She was almost 15 years his junior. Sbahle also revealed that she knew Kwame had children. She said she was especially sorry about that — but not sorry enough, evidently, to stop sleeping with their father.
I bled her for every detail, bar the intimate sexual ones, which, for the sake of my already shredded confidence, I didn’t want to know. Sbahle, in her soft spoken voice, told me Kwame had fed her all the usual clichés: I didn’t understand him, he was with me for the sake of the kids and we were more like brother and sister. I shuddered with indignation when she revealed that our family moved to South Africa so that Kwame would be closer to her. It was shattering to learn that I left my life, my family, my friends and moved to a country where I didn’t know a single person so that my husband could be closer to his mistress.
I couldn’t pinpoint where I went wrong as a wife. I made a huge effort to ensure that when Kwame got home the house was sparkling, the children in bed and a sumptuous dinner was in the oven. I tried to keep our sex life going, which is difficult when your partner is not emotionally vested in you because he is in love with someone else.
As I sat there I wondered if Kwame wanted to be discovered; if the effort of maintaining a facade was so great that he could dissemble no longer. I wanted to praise myself for my formidable investigative abilities but I’d unearthed the evidence without even trying. Recent text messages were all there on this phone.
Fights via texts about a pregnancy shook me so much I had to sit down. My entire world spiraled and I realized that I didn’t really know the man that I woke up next to almost everyday. Instantly, I felt compelled to meet the woman who was carrying his child. I know other women would have shied away from such a direct approach, but my curiosity — and desire to end this emotional turmoil — overwhelmed me.
And so I found myself trashing Kwame’s things and I found a copy of a lease agreement in his bag. My intuition told me that he was renting out a place for her. I told his mother everything I knew. I wanted her to come along with me because the text messages revealed that Kwame wanted her to abort the child and there was some mention of blood tests. The Christian woman in me compelled me to save that unborn child’s life.
“I hear everything you have told us but I want to know more about the pregnancy. How far along are you?” I asked.
“I’m not pregnant.” Sbahle stated.
“Not pregnant or not pregnant anymore?” I sought clarification.
“I thought I was pregnant but it was just a pregnancy scare.”
Suddenly, I felt at ease. Whether it was knowing that I didn’t have to make sense of my husband impregnating another woman, or her warm smile, it didn’t matter to me. Now I could make a decision without feeling like there was another life that I had to consider.
After sitting back and listening to what Sbahle and I had to say and taking a deep breath, my mother in-law finally spoke. “As a woman I would like to apologize for what my son has put you through. It is clear that he lied to both of you, he did unspeakable things but it is also evident that he loves both of you very much. I want us to come to some sort of resolution and map the way forward.”
Sbahle turned to face me and croaked, “Gen, I am so sorry for all the hurt my relationship with Kwame must have caused you and your family. I can assure you that it is over between us. He took the car for some paint job but I told him that I don’t want it back and I will be moving out of this apartment at the end of the month.”
“Are you saying that you and my son are no longer in a relationship?”
“Yes. It’s been over for a little over a month now. The way he reacted when I told him I was pregnant marked the end for us.”
“Do you really think that one lapse in good judgment is enough to throw 8 good years away?” My mother in-law asked, simply. “My son is married and he reacted the same way any other married man would have reacted if they were in the same predicament. Kwame lashed out because he was scared of losing his wife. Don’t let that be a reflection of how he really feels about you and this relationship.
Genevieve…. Sbahle you have been in a relationship with the same man for close to a decade. How do you feel about making this official? I think the best thing to do is to have Kwame take Sbahle as his second wife.”
My heart sank to the pit of my stomach at her request. Is that what my husband wanted? Did he love this woman that much? I tried so hard not to cry throughout the whole exchange but this suggestion sent me into a fury. A new set of tears erupted and I sobbed as agony seeped in my veins. Without another word, Kwame’s mother threw her hands around my torso and held me tight.
For a few seconds, I was frozen, but when I relaxed I buried my face in my hands as tears continued to fall while I found myself in her alleviating embrace.
“Don’t cry.” She whispered but I couldn’t stop the tears.
I cried like someone died. This only deepened the feeling of being inadequate and the feeling of not being enough.
Kwame’s mother rubbed my back soothingly until I pulled myself back together. I felt like I was being punished when I wasn’t the one in the wrong in this equation and I wasn’t the reason why my family was torn to shreds. I would have liked to focus on Kwame in this situation and label him the asshole. However, Sbahle saw it fit to ignore the fact that he was married. She was willing to violate another woman’s life and family. She was careless and thoughtless.
Finally, I pulled away from Kwame’s mother’s hold. This wasn’t just about me but it was about keeping my family together so that my kids didn’t have to grow up in a single mother household like I did.
“Sbahle, I can tell that you love Kwame just as much as he loves you. You must know that Kwame is also just as broken about the end of your relationship as you appear to be.” I commented, wiping my tears.
“It is best for Kwame and I to go our separate ways. I will never forgive myself for the harm that I have caused.” Said, Sbahle while she gazed at me with eyes full of sorrow. Her voice, it was though low and clear, had no softness; it rang like a bell.
“Both of you are emotional right now. You are more alike than you think and I can see the two of you getting along. You can make a polygamous relationship work,” my mother in-law added quietly; and though she tried to make her voice insolent, the deep instinct of good manners was greater than her effort.
“Kwame didn’t tell me anything about being his second wife.” Sbahle admitted.
What did he promise her? Was he planning on leaving me for her? There was no life without my husband.
I sniffled. “The suggestion is bombastic but the reality is that you are the woman that has been making me question a lot of things in our marriage. Your presence has been felt in our household for as long as I can remember and I don’t think anything will change if this thing between the two of you is official so there is no point in fighting it. I know deep within that Kwame loves you much more than he could ever love me. I would rather take this route than lose him.” My sincerity was disarming.
I rose from my seat having said all that I wanted to say.
My mother in-law cupped Sbahle’s cheek. “I want you to think about this arrangement. Think about all that you have been through with my son and find it in you to forgive him. He wronged you and he is sorry. Genevieve and I have given you an open invitation to become an official member of the family. All the lies, uncertainty and deceit will stop and the three of you will set the boundaries for your relationship. I hope that you will consider this and that we will all figure it out and get to a point where we are all happy.” My mother in law said after me before she stood.
The idea of being in a polygamous marriage was something that had never even crossed my mind. My heart broke at the knowledge that I’d consider the possibility. I loved that man that much. That confrontation set the course for the rest of my life.
I was in my cubicle drowning myself in work to make sure that my mind did not have capacity to think about anything that would dampen my mood when I got a call from reception telling me that Mrs Acheampong was there to see me. It was easy to ignore Kwame but I couldn’t ignore his mother.
“Good afternoon,” I said as I swiped my access card and walked up to her, not able to help the surprise and shock that was in my voice.
“Hi, I was in the neighborhood so I thought we could go out for lunch.” Her smile was so sincere and sweet I couldn’t say no.
We went to a little sandwich shop a few blocks away from my workplace and Lahari did most of the talking. Surprisingly, she didn’t mention Kwame or her wild ideas about me being a second wife and I was convinced that she would. We were halfway through our meal when I realized why.
“Kwame!” Lahari rose, her greeting full of surprise.
My heart flipped over in my chest as Kwame crossed the restaurant and walked towards us, it was evident that he was not surprised to see either one of us and I looked from him to his mother with an angry look. I’d been set up.
“I think you can cool the surprised act mom, S isn’t buying it.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek then took the chair between the two of us.
“Now, what was so urgent that you felt the need to pull me out of a business meeting mama?” Kwame asked.
“Kwame!” Lahari said in her most disapproving voice. “The two of you need to talk and sort out your differences. She is miserable, you are so broken you stayed in bed all weekend. This is urgent.”
Kwame glanced over at me, nothing but mild curiosity on his face, as if being called from a meeting to talk to an ex-lover was something that happened to him all the time. My heart beat erratically as I remembered the ex-lover part of our relationship.
“I don’t know if Genevieve told you, but we paid Sbahle a visit yesterday. We spoke about a few things that the two of you need to discuss.” His mother tabled the agenda.
Kwame appeared calm as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms after sending the waitress away as she approached, his head tilted as if he was all ears but I could tell he was unsettled by the set of his shoulders. I couldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t want my mother sorting out my squabbles.
Lahari must have sensed that this was a conversation Kwame and I needed to have in private because she stood up leaving the table with some excuse that I didn’t hear.
“Gen told me about the meeting yesterday. I tried to call you to talk about it but you didn’t answer any of my calls.” Kwame said as the waitress refilled Lahari’s glass and brought Kwame some water.
“I made it very clear to you that we are over. I told your mom and your wife the same thing so we have nothing to talk about.” I sneered.
“I am sorry, S. Tell me what I need to do to make it right.” He ignored my resolute stance but I could tell that he was agitated by the tightening of his hand where it rested on his arm.
I was stubbornly silent.
“I miss you baby.” He said and tried to take my hand but I removed my hands from the table. “Have you at least thought about the arrangement?”
I picked up my glass of passion fruit and lemonade to take a sip. Having said all I wanted to say I remained quiet and turned to watch the cars driving by.
“Come on S, stop being childish.”
I sat my glass down so hard that I was surprised that it didn’t shatter. “I don’t know what the fuck you want from me. If you think that I would even think about marrying you after the stunt you pulled you must be out of your mind. You hurt me, Kwame and I just don’t think I can get over it.” My voice waivered and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.
“I am sorry I hurt you pumpkin.” He whispered reaching out to me but I jerked away before he could touch me, knowing if he did I’d be lost.
“You are so mean Kwame.”
“I know. I wish I could take back the things I said but I can only apologise.”
There was a tense silence that was interrupted after a moment by Lahari returning to the table.
“I have to go back to the office.” I rose with a nod and left them.
I really hoped that was the last time seeing them but Kwame showed up on my doorstep that evening.
“Kwame why won’t you leave me alone?” I asked softly with no expression in my voice or on my face.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Well, it is your apartment. I am just the illiterate that stays here.”
He dangled a set of car keys and said, “Your car was a little old so I got you another one.”
I turned and walked from the front door.
“S!” Kwame called after me, concern in his voice. I ignored him and kept on going.
Thuthuka was coming out of the bathroom as Kwame reached me and grabbed my arm. I gave a little yelp and was helpless as Kwame dragged me into my bedroom and slammed the door. To Thuthuka it must have looked like we were giddy teenagers that couldn’t wait to rip each other’s clothes off.
I turned around as the door slammed behind me. Kwame’s huge frame towered over me and I did my best not to cringe away and keep my defenses in place. The next thing I knew Kwame had taken me in his arms and was kissing me hard. I did my best to remain as passive as I could, trying not to react to the kiss, but he didn’t stop. One hand wound its self into my hair, pulling it and the other lifted me from behind pushing me hard against him.
I could only take so much before my anger broke through my defenses and I started to return his aggressive kiss with aggression of my own.
He backed me up towards the dresser, perched me on top of it and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. This freed up one of his hands which quickly found its way under my shirt and my bare waist. I gasped at the sensation and my hands wandered to his chest and I could feel the muscles as they quivered and his heart as it pounded in his chest.
His heart rate matched my own. Just then his phone rang, breaking the moment.
I wrenched my mouth from his and tried to break free but he wouldn’t let me. He held me in place as he fished it out of his pocket and told Gen that he would be home late because he was with me.
“Gen says hi.” He said when he got off the phone.
“This situation is just too complicated.” I stated.
Kwame rested his head against mine, desperation clear in his eyes. “Baby, I never sought to hurt you. This can't be the end to our story. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? You know the person you were to me and you know just how special you are to me. I know you hurt and I'm sorry, truly; but there has to be a part of you that acknowledges that anyone would pose the question about paternity if a person is intimate with more than one person.
I know this whole thing sounds crazy because we’ve never discussed the possibility of entering into a polygamous marriage. This is as new to me as it is to you, a path untrodden, twisting out of sight. Take my hand. Though I don't know the way, I can lead, figure it out just one step at a time. Perhaps the new landscape will be something beautiful, perhaps it'll be what we make it. Maybe things turn out better this way.” He said softly raising his hand to my hair and pulling back to look into my eyes.
I tried to look away but both of his hands came up and held my face, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Are you going to spend the rest of your life with my stupid ass?”
I threw my head back and laughed. “It seems like my stupid ass always finds its way back to you so I’m starting to feel like maybe this is fate. Maybe this is it for me and maybe it isn’t. I still have to think about it.”
“I promise to love you faithfully for the rest of our lives, and I mean the kind of love that puts you and Gen before anyone else, the kind of love that would face down the devil himself to protect the two of you. Remember that whilst you think about it.” He said in a whisper.
He kissed me and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. His hand rested below my ear, his thumb caressed my cheek as our breaths mingled. I ran my fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us and I could feel the beating of his heart against my chest.
All my sadness, anger, confusion and every other emotion pushed from my being. I was as much in love with him as I ever was, perhaps even more so, but I was tired...

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19 October 2016 at 03:53 delete

Hello please tell me y u stopped publishing without any warning, i loved this blog n now is gone, everyday i check n there is nothing y

26 October 2016 at 09:25 delete

Why did you stop writing???? 😢😢😢😢😢

1 November 2016 at 03:14 delete

Are you ever going to write again? 😢

26 December 2016 at 09:30 delete

hey, y did you stop writting , u the best and i was addicted to this blog .
please come back

17 January 2017 at 09:52 delete

Still waiting for chapter 100 addiction at uts best..luv please write again

16 May 2017 at 13:18 delete

miss my Levy & Thando😒. they remind me of myself & hubby😁

2 July 2018 at 22:56 delete

Anyone know the author of unscripted love

30 April 2020 at 11:31 delete

What happened to the story can the author please enlighten us. What going on or did you change the tittle of the book. Please don't leave is hanging.