It had been a peaceful few months. Mmabatho was now six months pregnant, glowing as her baby bump became more prominent. Her relationship with Andile had been everything she'd dreamed ofâuntil today.
She had been heading back from a prenatal yoga class when she decided to surprise Andile at his favorite café. But instead of the sweet reunion she had envisioned, she spotted him seated with another woman, laughing and holding hands in a way that felt too familiar.
Mmabatho froze. Her heart sank as she noticed how close they were sitting and how the woman casually placed a hand on his arm. The betrayal stung, but instead of crying, she marched straight up to them.
"Andile," she said firmly, startling both of them.
His smile disappeared, replaced by shock. "Mmabatho, heyâ"
"Don't," she interrupted, her voice trembling but strong. "Who's this?"
Before he could answer, the woman stood up, clearly uncomfortable. "I'll give you two some space," she mumbled and quickly left.
Mmabatho turned to Andile, fury in her eyes. "What the hell was that?"
"It's not what it looks like," Andile stammered, standing up.
"Oh really?" she shot back, her voice rising. "Because it sure looks like you're cozying up with another woman while I'm at home!"
Andile grabbed her arm gently, trying to calm her down. "Mmabatho, pleaseâ"
"Don't touch me!" she yelled, pulling away. "I trusted you, Andile. I thought you were different, but clearly, I was wrong."
The sun was setting when Mmabatho dragged herself to the Jabavu house. Her chest felt heavy, her six-month baby bump adding to the weight of her emotions. Her heart raced as her mind replayed the events of the dayâthe sight of Andile with another woman, laughing and touching her like she didn't exist.
Her tears blurred her vision as she walked up to the house. She didn't bother texting or calling ahead. She just needed somewhere safe, and this was the only place she could think of.
When the door swung open, Khanyiswa stood there in a silk robe, her brows furrowing at the sight in front of her. "Mmabatho! What's wrong?"
Mmabatho didn't say a word. She stepped inside, her lips trembling before the tears she had been holding back spilled over.
"Come in," Khanyiswa said, ushering her into the living room and wrapping a soft blanket around her. "Sit here, okay? I'll call Sandile."
Before Mmabatho could protest, Khanyiswa grabbed her phone and dialed her husband.
Minutes later, Sandile came rushing into the living room, his usual calm and collected demeanor replaced with panic. His eyes darted to Mmabatho. "What happened?"
She sniffled, her voice barely audible. "I saw him."
"Him? Who?" Sandile's voice grew sharper.
"Andile," Mmabatho said, her hands trembling. "I saw him with another woman. He was laughing with her, touching her, like I didn't exist."
Sandile's face darkened. "What did you do?"
"I confronted him," she said, her voice cracking. "He just stood there, like he didn't care. Like I didn't matter."
Sandile's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight. "I swear, if I see himâ"
"Sandile," Khanyiswa interrupted, stepping between him and Mmabatho. "Not now."
He let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He sat beside Mmabatho, hesitating for a moment before pulling her into a side hug. "You don't deserve this," he said quietly. "You're too good for that fool."
For a moment, Mmabatho leaned into him, letting herself feel the comfort in his words.
Khanyiswa stood off to the side, her arms crossed. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she watched her husband comforting Mmabatho. She wouldn't say it aloud, but a pang of jealousy flickered in her chest.
The room eventually fell silent, with only the occasional sniffle breaking the quiet. Sandile stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. Mmabatho stared out the window, her mind racing with questions she didn't want to answer.
When Sandile returned, he was holding a tray with a steaming bowl of soup, slices of bread, and a glass of juice. He placed it on the coffee table in front of her.
"Eat," he said simply.
"I'm not hungry," Mmabatho muttered, her eyes still fixed on the garden outside.
Sandile didn't flinch. He picked up the bowl and a spoon, holding it out to her. "I didn't ask."
She turned her head, glaring at him. But the look in his eyes told her he wasn't going to back down. Reluctantly, she took a spoonful.
"There we go," Sandile said with a small, teasing smile. "Not so bad, right?"
Mmabatho rolled her eyes but took another bite.
In the corner of the room, Khanyiswa let out a dramatic sigh before walking toward the kitchen. "Of course, he's feeding her," she mumbled under her breath.
Sandile shot her a glance but didn't say anything.
Once the food was gone and the room fell into a comfortable silence, Mmabatho leaned back on the couch and let out a shaky breath. Sandile sat across from her, his elbows on his knees, studying her.
"You're stronger than this," he said after a while.
She met his gaze, her eyes still glassy. "I don't feel strong."
"You are," he said firmly. "You're carrying a whole human being, putting up with Khanyiswa's kale obsession, and now dealing with Andile's nonsense. That's strength."
A small laugh escaped her despite herself. "You forgot the part where your wife forces me to eat quinoa for breakfast."
Sandile chuckled, and the tension between them eased slightly.
As the night crept in, Mmabatho found herself curled up on the couch, exhaustion finally taking over. Sandile cleared the dishes, glancing at her as he stood.
"You're staying here tonight," he said simply. "You shouldn't be alone."
Mmabatho nodded. She didn't have the energy to argue.
Khanyiswa walked back into the room, watching Sandile drape another blanket over Mmabatho. She tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "You'll be okay here," she said softly.