Sandile made a suggestion of a shopping trip for the baby's nursery thinking it would ease the tension. But from the moment Khanyiswa reluctantly invited Mmabatho along, the air was charged with unspoken words.
They arrived at a chic baby boutique in Sandton, Khanyiswa walking in with her usual air of authority, Sandile trailing close behind her. Mmabatho followed quietly, already sensing the tension brewing.
Inside the store, Khanyiswa took control. "I think we should go with neutral tones. Beige and white. Timeless and classy," she declared, picking up a plush cream-colored blanket.
Mmabatho, trying to join in, suggested, "What about something brighter? Babies love colors. Maybe a pastel blue or yellow?"
Khanyiswa turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Blue? Yellow? This is a nursery, not a carnival."
Mmabatho inhaled sharply, fighting the urge to snap back. "I'm just sayingâsomething cheerful might make it feel more... welcoming."
Sandile interjected, his voice calm. "I think both ideas could work. Why don't we find a balance?"
Khanyiswa ignored him and handed the blanket to the shop assistant. "We'll take this."
As the shopping continued, Khanyiswa continued to veto every suggestion Mmabatho made. When Mmabatho suggested a baby mobile with colorful animals, Khanyiswa snorted. "That'll just collect dust. The baby doesn't need unnecessary clutter."
That was the final straw. "Unnecessary clutter?" Mmabatho said, her voice rising slightly. "You mean like all those designer bags you just have to keep in the guest room?"
Khanyiswa froze, her expression darkening. "Askies?" (Excuse me)
"You heard me," Mmabatho said, stepping closer. "I'm carrying your baby, Khanyiswa. The least you can do is stop dismissing everything I say like I don't matter."
Khanyiswa scoffed, crossing her arms. "Let's not act like you're doing this out of the kindness of your heart. You're being paid, remember?"
Sandile stepped in quickly, his voice firm. "Enough. Both of you. We're here for the baby, not to fight."
But the damage was done. The tension was so thick it could've choked the entire store.
The tension in the car ride home was unreal. The kind of silence that screamed louder than any argument. Mmabatho sat in the back, scrolling aimlessly through her phone, trying to avoid the fact that Khanyiswa looked ready to bite someone's head off. Sandile, stuck between the two women, was gripping the steering wheel like it was his lifeline.
By the time they pulled up to the Jabavu house, Mmabatho had already decidedâshe was done.
The second they stepped inside, she dropped the baby blanket Khanyiswa had insisted on buying onto the couch and turned to face them.
"I'm not staying here anymore," she blurted out, her voice cutting through the awkward silence like a knife.
Sandile spun around, his brows furrowed. "What? What are you talking about?"
"I mean ndiyahamba," she said, folding her arms. "I'll pack my stuff and be out of your way by tonight."
Khanyiswa, standing near the staircase, raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Well, that sounds like the best idea you've had all day."
Mmabatho's eyes snapped to her. "Don't act like you're not the reason I'm leaving. You've made it pretty clear I'm just a 'paid worker' to you."
Sandile stepped in between them, holding up his hands like a referee. "Okay, that's enough. Both of you."
But Mmabatho wasn't done. "You know what? It's fine. I don't need this. I've got my own place, my own peace. I'll send you my updated address for the appointments. No need to pretend like this is some cozy family setup."
Sandile sighed, looking defeated. "Mmabatho, please. Don't do this because of one bad day."
"One bad day?" she scoffed, shooting a glare at Khanyiswa. "This whole situation has been bad days stacked on top of each other."
"Good. At least you're finally realizing that," Khanyiswa said, crossing her arms.
Mmabatho rolled her eyes so hard she could've seen her own brain. "Yeah, okay. Thanks for making this decision easier for me."
Packing didn't take long. Mmabatho didn't have muchâjust her clothes, a few personal items, and the memories she'd rather leave behind. As she zipped up her suitcase, she heard a soft knock on the door.
"It's me," Sandile's voice came from the other side.
She opened the door to find him standing there, looking a mix of apologetic and frustrated.
"You don't have to do this," he said softly, leaning against the doorframe. "You don't have to leave like this."
"I do," she replied, keeping her tone even. "I need to put myself first, Sandile. For my sanity."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If you ever need anything, anything at all, you call me, okay? Day or night."
She nodded. "Thanks."
As she wheeled her suitcase toward the front door, Khanyiswa was leaning casually against the wall, watching her with an unreadable expression.
"Don't worry, Khanyiswa," Mmabatho said with a bitter smile. "You can have your perfect little house back. No 'unnecessary clutter.'"
Khanyiswa's smirk faltered for just a second before she turned and walked upstairs without another word.
The Uber ride to her apartment felt like a breath of fresh air. When she unlocked her door and stepped inside, she finally felt a sense of relief. She was free. No more walking on eggshells around Khanyiswa. No more pretending everything was fine.
As she unpacked her things, her phone buzzed.
Sandile: Are you okay?
She hesitated for a moment before typing back: I will be.