The last few days had been draining, to say the least. Khanyiswa had put Mmabatho on a diet so strict it so strict it felt like she was training for a marathon she never signed up for. Every bite was monitored, every meal timed. She couldn't remember the last time she felt this tired.
Mmabatho sat in the garden, the soft breeze brushing against her face as she tried to catch her breath. She hugged her knees and let her eyes wander over the perfectly manicured lawn and the tall, proud trees swaying lazily in the wind. It was quiet, serene even, but the silence only made the lump in her throat harder to ignore. Before she knew it, hot tears streamed down her face, and she buried her head in her arms, letting out silent, heavy sobs.
"Ma'am?" The voice of one of the maids startled her. She quickly wiped her eyes and looked up.
"Yes?" she croaked, her voice rough from crying.
"You have a visitor."
Mmabatho's heart leaped. "Who?" she asked, already getting up and brushing off her dress.
"It's your friend, Miss Onalenna."
A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Thank you," she said, trying to pull herself together as she walked back inside.
When she reached the living room, Ona was already waiting, her bright smile lighting up the room. "Babe! Look at this palace you're living in!" Ona joked, arms wide open.
Mmabatho laughed for what felt like the first time in forever and ran into her friend's embrace. "You have no idea how much I needed this," she said, her voice trembling a little.
"Girl, I can tell," Ona said, pulling back to study Mmabatho's face. "You look tired. Is Khanyiswa being a witch, or boimana no go raga marago fela?" (Or is pregnancy just kicking your ass)
"A bit of both," Mmabatho said with a sigh, plopping down on the couch. "Let's just say it's been... intense."
Ona raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Intense? You need to spill, girl. What's been happening?"
"Khanyiswa's got me on some crazy diet," Mmabatho said, rolling her eyes. "Like, I can't even have a full slice of bread without her counting the calories out loud. I'm losing my mind."
Ona gasped dramatically. "This is wild. O tshwanetse go mmolelela gore a tsidifale." (You need to tell her to chill)
"I wish," Mmabatho said, shaking her head. "But it's like living under a microscope. I don't want to mess up anything, especially now that the baby is here."
Ona's expression softened, and she reached for Mmabatho's hand. "You're doing the best you can. Don't let her stress you out too much."
The day passed with them lounging around the house, watching comedies and laughing until their stomachs hurt. It felt like old times, just the two of them, without the weight of everything else pressing down on Mmabatho. When the movie ended, Ona glanced at the time and got up.
"My Uber's almost here. I gotta go, babe, but I'm glad I came."
"Me too," Mmabatho said, hugging her tight. "Thanks for being here."
"Always."
As they walked to the front door, they bumped into Sandile and Khanyiswa, who had just come back from running errands.
"Oh, hi!" Mmabatho said, a little awkwardly. "This is my best friend, Onalenna."
Sandile's face lit up with a genuine smile. "Nice to meet you," he said, offering his hand.
Khanyiswa, on the other hand, managed a thin, strained smile. "Hello."
Ona shook Sandile's hand and nodded at Khanyiswa. "Nice to meet you both. You've got a beautiful home."
"Thanks," Sandile said. "It's a work in progress."
Khanyiswa's smile faltered even more, and she reached for Sandile's arm, squeezing it lightly. "We should go inside. It's getting chilly," she said, a clear dismissal.
Ona glanced at Mmabatho with a knowing look. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
"See you," Mmabatho called as Ona slipped into the waiting Uber.
That evening, dinner felt different. Khanyiswa was on her phone, barely eating, while Sandile kept glancing over at Mmabatho like he wanted to say something. The silence was thick, but Mmabatho didn't mind. She just wanted to get through the meal and head to bed.
As she stood to clear the dishes, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her out of nowhere. The room spun, and the last thing she heard before everything went dark was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and Sandile's voice shouting her name.
"Mmabatho!"
Before she knew it, she felt strong arms catch her, lifting her off the ground.
"She's out cold," Sandile said, worry lacing his voice.
"Put her on the couch, quickly!" Khanyiswa snapped, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and irritation.
Sandile laid her down gently. "We need to call the doctor."
"Fine," Khanyiswa muttered, already dialing.
When Mmabatho woke up the next morning, the soft light of dawn seeped into her room. She blinked a few times, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together what had happened. How did she end up in her bed? The last thing she remembered was... dinner. She sat up slowly, a faint ache in her body and questions swirling in her mind.
A soft knock at the door pulled her out of her thoughts.
"Come in," she said, her voice a little hoarse.
Sandile stepped in, his expression full of concern. "Hey, Uziva njani?" (How are you feeling)
"I'm... okay," she said, though she wasn't sure if it was entirely true. "What happened?"
"You passed out. We were worried, so I carried you up here. The doctor said it was probably exhaustion and stress. You need to take it easy."
A soft smile tugged at her lips. "Thank you for helping me."
"Anytime, Mmabatho," Sandile said, his gaze lingering just a bit too long before he nodded and stepped out, leaving her heart pounding with a mix of confusion and something else she couldn't quite name.