STRING OF PEARLS THREE:
ONEZWA
As I sob, face buried in my hands, Phil's conflicted expression catches my eye. He yearns to comfort me, but the Mthethwa brothers' intimidating presence holds him back.
"Ndoda, you should leave. This doesn't concern you," Nkanyezi growls, his gaze flicking to Phil.
Phil's eyes lock onto mine, filled with concern. "Will you be okay?" he asks softly.
"I'll be fine," I lie, trying to shield him from the danger lurking around me.
Nkanyezi's impatience escalates. "You heard her."
With a hesitant glance, Phil exits, leaving me alone with the Mthethwa brothers.
Nkanyezi breaks the tense silence. "How have you been?"
I whisper, "I don't know how to answer that."
Mcedisi's deep voice resonates through the room, sending shivers down my spine. "Why did you run?"
I cower, despite his calm demeanor.
Nkanyezi intervenes, "That's not important now. We must focus on the issue at hand."
An uncomfortable silence settles among us.
"What do I need to sign?" I ask finally, my voice firm.
Confusion etches on their faces.
"You're here for Qhawe's fortune, right? You can't access it without me. Give me the papers, and let's end this charade," I declare, newfound courage surging through me.
Nkanyezi's expression turns grave. "That's not why we're here. Our brother loved you, and unfortunately, his enemies now target you."
I frown, bewildered. "Why?"
"They believe Qhawe hid diamonds with you," Nkanyezi explains, Mcedisi's piercing gaze fixed on me.
"Diamonds? I know nothing about diamonds!" I protest.
Nkanyezi presses on, "Your life is in danger. Come with us, and we'll protect you."
I stand firm, tears welling up. "I won't go anywhere with you. I know nothing about diamonds. I was married to your brother briefly, and now that he's gone, I'm free from your family's grasp."
Nkanyezi's patience wears thin. "Didn't you understand? These people are extremely dangerous."
I open the door, resolve etched on my face. "I'll take my chances. Leave, or I'll call the police."
Nkanyezi begins to protest, but Mcedisi interrupts, "Leave her, bafo. We've done our part."
With a heavy sigh, Nkanyezi follows Mcedisi out the door.
As I slam it shut, a dam of emotions bursts, and I surrender to tears.
I was drunk in love, ready to surrender to Phil, but the past had other plans. Its dark shadows shattering our bliss.
After the Mthethwa brothers leave, I seek solace in a long, soothing bath, tears streaming down my face. Sleep eventually wraps me in its calming arms.
Now, I sit in the living room, phone in hand, wrestling with doubts. Should I call Phil? The battle rages within me until I finally dial his number.
"Onezwa," he answers, his voice warm and inviting.
But I freeze, words stuck in my throat.
"Are you there?" Phil asks, concern seeping into his tone.
I take a deep breath. "Yes... I'm sorry about last night."
Silence descends, heavy with unspoken emotions. Phil breaks it with a sigh.
"It's okay, but I think I should take a step back. Those men... they're powerful, and I have my kids to consider."
His words cut deep, a gentle rejection that slowly drains my soul.
"I understand," I whisper, before hanging up.
_MCEDISI_
Nkanyezi hands me a cigarette as we stand on the balcony, overlooking the vibrant city lights of Jozi. Lost in thought, I tune out Nkanyezi's chatter. My mind is consumed by Onezwa.
I never took offense to her running away. It wasn't as if I loved her. But seeing her in another man's arms infuriated me, and her accusations of us seeking my brother's fortune only added fuel to the fire. If only she knew the truth.
When my father died, I was just 16. His ruthless family left my mother to raise three boys alone. I took it upon myself to help, stepping up to lead the Mthethwa family. Sacrifices were made, and desperation led me into the world of crime – killing for hire, extortion, and eventually selling drugs and organs on the black market. My little brothers joined, a decision I'll always regret.
We became a force to be reckoned with, our reputation preceding us. But Qhawe grew too ambitious, making side deals and seeking to branch out. I tried to shield him, but he pushed me away, ultimately crossing Kofi, a ruthless Egyptian.
Kofi killed my brother over stolen diamonds, and now he's hell-bent on reclaiming them. Onezwa's escape didn't concern me initially; I figured she'd return when she finished mourning. Years passed, and she didn't. I sought her out solely to protect her from Kofi, but my patience wears thin.
"What do we do now?" Nkanyezi asks, breaking my thoughts.
"Nothing. We go back home. MaSibiya awaits," I reply nonchalantly.
Nkanyezi chuckles. "Kofi will find her."
I shrug. "Maybe we should try again; perhaps she's calmed down."
Nkanyezi presses, "Let's do it for our brother."
"He's dead," I say.
"We can save his wife," Nkanyezi counters.
I shake my head. "She's no longer our concern. We tried; she's stubborn."
Nkanyezi scoffs, "That doesn't mean she should die for something she knows nothing about. You're mad because she was with another man."
My jaw clenches. "Ngathi uyakhohlwa ukuthi ukhuluma nobani? (Are you forgetting who you're talking to?) I don't care if she's been with every white man in the past five years. She's irrelevant to me."
Nkanyezi says, "Ngixolisa bafo" (I'm sorry, brother).
We continue smoking in silence.
Days pass, and we return to the village. Nkanyezi's discontent about leaving Onezwa behind is palpable, but he'll come around.
As I enter my home, my wife greets me with a shy smile. "Myeni wami, you're home?"
I nod, offering a gentle side hug. "Let me run you a bath," she says, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
She disappears into the bathroom, then returns shortly. "Your bath is ready, sthandwa sam."
As I head to the bathroom, she stops me with a question. "Did you find her?"
I shake my head, "No," and continue into the bathroom, eager to avoid probing questions about Onezwa.
After my bath, my wife serves dinner, and we eat in comfortable silence. Later, she clears the plates and returns with a small box.
"What's this?" I ask.
Tears well up in her eyes as she reveals, "Nyambose, ngikhulelwe" (I'm pregnant). She cradles her flat stomach, and I rise to envelop her in a warm hug.
"Ngiyabonga, MaSibiya," (Thank you, MaSibiya) I say, genuinely elated. After six childless years of marriage, I'd begun to doubt my fertility.
_NARRATED_
Monday arrived sooner than expected. Onezwa woke up with puffy eyes, courtesy of a sleepless weekend. She layered on makeup, hoping to conceal her fatigue and tears.
As she walked past reception, she dodged Amber's gaze. Luckily, Amber was distracted by the courier guy while receiving office supplies.
Onezwa slipped into her office, shut the door, and collapsed onto the couch, closing her eyes.
Just as she relaxed, Phil walked in. "Already lounging around, new associate?" he teased.
She sprang up, defensive. "I wasn't lounging! I swear."
Phil's warm smile put her at ease. "How are you?"
"I'll live," she replied with a shrug.
Phil's expression turned serious. "I have a client interested in the Hillcrest house."
Onezwa's eyes widened. They'd been trying to sell that property for almost a year! The commission alone would set her up nicely.
"If you're not up for it, I can assign someone else," Phil offered.
She shook her head vigorously. "This is exactly what I need. That 3 million commission will fund my dream holiday."
Phil chuckled. "Mind if I tag along?"
Onezwa playfully rolled her eyes. "Last time I checked, you dumped me."
Phil burst into laughter. "We'd need to date first for me to dump you, Onezwa."
She blushed, unable to retort. Their relationship remained unlabeled.