Mmabatho stared at her phone, her pulse racing as the article burned into her mind. The headline blared across the screen like a slap to the face:
"Khanyiswa Accuses Surrogate of Stealing Her Man and Her Baby."
Her chest tightened as she read the lies. Khanyiswa had claimed that Mmabatho had seduced Sandile, manipulated him into leaving his marriage, and was now trying to take her baby. Every sentence was worse than the last.
Stole her man? Stole her baby?
Her blood boiled. She hadn't asked for any of this. She'd only agreed to carry the child as a surrogate. She never signed up for the drama, the accusations, or being publicly dragged through the mud.
With shaking hands, she dialed Sandile's number. The phone rang once. Twice. Then he picked up.
"Mmabatho?" His voice was calm, oblivious. "Hey, what's up?"
"What's up?" she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Sandile, have you seen this nonsense? Have you seen the article where your ex-wife is dragging my name through the mud?"
There was a pause on the other end, then a sigh. "I saw it. Look, Khanyiswaâ"
"No, don't you dare 'Khanyiswa' me right now," she cut him off. "This woman is out here calling me a homewrecker, Sandile. A baby thief. And you're sitting there like this is just another Tuesday? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Mmabatho, calm down," he said, his tone even.
"Calm down?" she repeated, her voice rising. "How the hell am I supposed to calm down when the whole world thinks I'm some conniving side chick? I didn't do anything wrong, Sandile. I'm not going to let her ruin my reputation. Not today. Not ever."
"Listen," he started, his tone firm. "Khanyiswa's just lashing out. She's emotionalâ"
"Awoa, ga ke kgathale if she's emotional or not," Mmabatho cut him off. "This isn't about her feelings. This is about her spreading lies about me, Sandile. Ubuxoki! Kwaye ndiyakuxelela ngoku, I might be pregnant, but I can still drag a bitch through the floor if I need to."
"Mmabatho," Sandile said, almost sounding shocked.
"I'm suing her," she said, her voice steely. "I've already decided. I'm calling my lawyer, and we're taking this to court. She crossed the line. I'm not some pushover she can bully."
"Wait, wait," he said quickly. "Let's talk about this before you do anything rash."
"I've already made up my mind," she said firmly. "And trust me, Sandile, if you try to defend her one more time, I'm coming for you next. I'm done playing nice."
"Mmabatho, come on. You're beingâ"
"Ugh fokof Sandile man," she snapped before hanging up on him.
She tossed her phone onto the couch and grabbed her purse. She had no patience left for Sandile's excuses or Khanyiswa's antics. A few deep breaths didn't help much as she dialed her lawyer, Tumi.
"Tumi," she said as soon as he answered, "I need your help. I'm suing someone for defamation."
"Whoa," Tumi replied, his tone calm but cautious. "Okay, what's going on? Who are we suing?"
"Khanyiswa," she said bitterly. "She's out here telling the world I stole her husband and her baby. She's dragging my name through the mud, and I'm not going to let her get away with it."
"Alright, alright," Tumi said. "We'll file the paperwork, but I need you to know something upfront. These cases can take months, sometimes longer. You need to be ready for that."
"I don't care how long it takes," Mmabatho replied, her jaw tightening. "She doesn't get to destroy my reputation and walk away scot-free."
"Okay, I hear you," Tumi said. "We'll get started on this right away. I'll need all the details and any evidence you have, but we'll handle it."
"Thanks, Tumi," she said.
"And Mmabatho," he added gently, "take care of yourself. Stress isn't good for the baby."
She sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I'll be fine, Tumi. Thanks."
After hanging up, she sat back on the couch, her mind racing. She'd made up her mind. She was going to fight for herself and her reputation. She wasn't going to let Khanyiswa bully her into silence.
Her phone buzzed again, and she groaned when she saw it was Sandile calling her back. Without hesitation, she hit decline.
Mmabatho gripped the steering wheel tightly as she sped down the road toward her lawyer's office, the article's headline replaying in her mind like a broken record. Her phone sat on the dashboard, the group call with Andile and Ona echoing through the car speakers.
"I swear, if I see Khanyiswa in the streets, I'm not even saying a word," Mmabatho fumed, her voice teetering on the edge of a yell. "I'll just knock her out. Simple."
"Okay, Mike Tyson, calm down," Andile's voice chimed in. "We get it; you're mad. But girl, you can't be fighting people in your condition."
"Exactly," Ona added. "You're eight months pregnant. Focus on staying zen and letting the courts handle her nonsense. She's just trying to get under your skin."
"She's not just under my skin; she's in my blood vessels at this point!" Mmabatho snapped. "Do you know how hard it is to stay calm when you're being called a surrogate-slash-homewrecker? And to top it off, she's implying I stole her child. Her child that she didn't even want to carry because she didn't want to get fat!"
"And everyone knows that's true," Ona said firmly. "This case is yours. She's just being spiteful and using the media to stir the pot."
"She's using the media to call me a thief!" Mmabatho yelled, slamming her palm against the steering wheel as she hit a red light. "I've already lost one of the babies because of stress. I'm not losing this one because Khanyiswa wants attention!"
Andile's voice softened. "Mmabatho, I know this is a lot, but you've got this. You're winning the case, and Sandile's got your back, even if he's useless sometimes."
"You're stronger than her, friend ," Ona added. "Don't let her win by stressing you out. Just focus on doing what you need to do to protect yourself."
The light turned green, and Mmabatho sighed, gripping the wheel again. "I hear you. I really do. But if I hear her name one more time today, I might just combust."
"Then don't combust until after the birth," Andile teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Mmabatho let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Y'all are lucky I love you."
By the time she pulled into her lawyer's office, the group call had ended. Mmabatho stepped out of her car, smoothing her dress over her belly, and made her way into the building. Tumi was already waiting in the conference room with a pile of papers on the desk.
"I read the article," Tumi said as soon as Mmabatho sat down.
"Good, because I need you to tear it apart and then some," Mmabatho said, crossing her arms.
Tumi nodded. "I've already started drafting a cease-and-desist letter to the publication, demanding they retract the article. It's defamatory, and we can prove it. But you need to know this isn't going to stop Khanyiswa. She's determined to make you look like the enemy."
"She can do whatever she wants, but when I'm done with her, she'll regret every word," Mmabatho replied.
Tumi smirked. "That's the spirit. Now, let's talk strategy."
An hour later, after hashing out legal plans and next steps, Mmabatho was back on the road. But this time, she wasn't heading home. She was too fired up, and there was only one person she wanted to seeâSandile.
When she arrived at his office, the receptionist smiled nervously. "Hi, Miss Phiri. Mr. Jabavu just wrapped up a meeting. Let me check if he's free."
"No need," Mmabatho said, brushing past her.
She walked straight to his office, opening the door without knocking. Sandile looked up from his desk, startled but quickly composed himself.
"Mmabatho? What's going on?"
"What's going on?" she repeated, her voice sharp. She shut the door behind her, leaning against it with her arms crossed. "What's going on is that your ex-wife is out here tarnishing my name, and I am way too pregnant to be dealing with this bullshit!"
Sandile sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I know it's frustratingâ"
"Frustrating?" she interrupted, stepping closer. "Frustrating is forgetting your phone at home. Frustrating is spilling coffee on your white shirt. This? This is hell, Sandile. I've already lost one baby. I have bloody placenta previa. I'm not supposed to be stressed, and yet, every time I turn around, there's another article calling me a thief, a homewrecker, or both!"
Sandile rubbed his temples, his jaw tightening. "I've been working with my lawyers to shut her down. These things take time."
"Time?" Mmabatho laughed bitterly. "She's dragging my name through the mud in real-time, but you're telling me to wait? I don't have time, Sandile. This baby doesn't have time."
He stood up, walking around the desk to face her. "I know this isn't easy for youâ"
"Easy?" she cut him off again, her voice rising. "Nothing about this is easy! I agreed to carry this baby because I thought it was a straightforward arrangement. Now, I'm in court battles, tabloids, and the middle of your messy divorce!"
Sandile's face softened as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're right. None of this is fair to you, and I'm sorry. I'm doing everything I can to fix it, but you need to trust me."
She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "Ndidiniwe, Sandile. I just want this to be over." (I am tired)
"It will be," he said softly. "I promise."
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of everything hanging heavily in the air. Finally, Mmabatho pulled herself together, stepping back and wiping her eyes.
"I just needed you to hear me," she said quietly. "I'm heading home."
Sandile nodded. "I'll check on you later."