The morning sun seeped through the tall windows of the Jabavu mansion, casting soft rays across the room as Mmabatho sat up in bed. The events of the previous night replayed in her mindâthe dizziness, Sandile catching her, and the strange mix of concern and tension in his eyes. She sighed and glanced at the bedside table, where a glass of water and some painkillers had been left by the nurse earlier.
A light knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. Before she could respond, the door opened and Sandile stepped in, looking more relaxed than usual. "Hey, just checking in. Uziva njani?" (How are you feeling?)
"Better, thanks," she said, managing a small smile.
He nodded, stepping a bit closer. "Good, Usithukile izolo. I don't want you to push yourself too hard. The doctor said you need rest." (You scared us last night)
"Yeah, I know," Mmabatho replied, looking down at her hands. "Ndiye ndacinga, actually. It might be better if I move into a place of my own. I found a new apartment not far from here." (I was thinking)
Sandile's expression shifted, a mix of surprise and concern crossing his face. "An apartment? Why? You're better off staying here where we can keep an eye on you."
Before she could respond, voices drifted up from the hallway. The unmistakable tones of Sandile's parents, Lumka and Mavo, were getting closer.
"Uvukile?" Lumka's voice called, moments before she appeared in the doorway. Her eyes softened as they landed on Mmabatho. "There you are, my dear. We were worried." (Is she awake)
Mmabatho smiled, trying to ignore the sudden nervous twist in her stomach. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit of exhaustion."
Mavo stepped into the room, his fatherly demeanor adding a warmth that Mmabatho hadn't felt in a long time. "Take care of yourself. This is important for all of us."
"Of course," she said, nodding.
As the family gathered around, Khanyiswa walked by the open door, her eyes narrowing when she caught sight of the scene. She forced a polite smile, stepping into the room. "Mmabatho, darling, you're looking better. How sweet of everyone to come check on you," she said, her voice dripping with insincerity.
Lumka's sharp eyes didn't miss the tone, but she said nothing, merely arching an eyebrow. "We're glad she's getting the care she needs," Lumka said pointedly, as if reminding Khanyiswa that Mmabatho was carrying her grandchild.
Khanyiswa's smile twitched. "Yes, of course. But now that everyone's reassured, why don't we give her some space to rest?"
Mavo nodded, patting Mmabatho's arm. "We'll let you recover. Take it easy, young lady."
As Sandile's parents left the room, Sandile lingered for a moment. His eyes met Mmabatho's, and for a second, it felt like the room was holding its breath. "We'll talk about the apartment later, okay?" he said softly, before turning to follow his parents out.
Khanyiswa's eyes met Sandile's as he passed her in the hallway, and she knew what was coming. He gently grabbed her arm and pulled her into a nearby sitting room, closing the door behind them.
"Intoni?" Khanyiswa asked, irritation creeping into her voice. (What?)
Sandile's eyes darkened, the easygoing nature he usually had completely gone. "What was that, Khanyi? The way you spoke to Mmabatho just nowâit was unnecessary and rude."
Khanyiswa rolled her eyes. "Oh, ngoko kufuneka ndibe perfect and sweet lonke ixesha? I'm sorry, but I'm not going to pretend like I'm thrilled every second of the day." ( so now I have to be perfect and sweet all the time?)
Sandile took a breath, trying to stay calm. "I'm not asking you to pretend. I'm asking you to be decent. This surrogacy is a huge deal, not just for us but for my parents too. They're finally excited about this baby, and I don't need you sabotaging that with your attitude."
Her eyes flashed, and for a moment, Sandile thought she might argue, but then her expression shifted to something more vulnerable. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't see how everyone's fussing over her and acting like she's some kind of saint? It's like I'm not even part of this."
Sandile's face softened, but only slightly. "Sithandwa sam, this isn't a competition. Ungumfazi wam, and this is our child. But we need Mmabatho healthy and happy to make that happen. Don't push her away." (My love, you're my wife)
Khanyiswa looked away, crossing her arms tightly. "Fine," she muttered. "I'll try."
"Good," Sandile said, his tone final. "Because this is bigger than just us."