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Chapter 11

"Why didn't you let him?" A disappointed Lindiwe asked.

Sometimes I wonder why I ever tell her anything, she seems to miss the important bits of every conversation. Or maybe that was me avoiding the truth about what was really going on. But also, I just needed someone to talk to, and Lindiwe was always open to talk about anything but herself, which had me question what kind of secrets she chose to keep hidden.

"I don't know." I said, a little disappointed in myself too.

Truth be told, I wanted him to kiss me, every part of me hungered to taste him. But to be honest, fear made me resist. Henri asked if I feared him, and I answered truthfully. I did not fear Henri, I feared falling in love with him. The moment he held my face, ready to kiss me, I was persuaded to believe that we would develop a relationship in secret, and I was convinced that the risks would be worth it, if what we have is real. But that was a lie, the risks were too great a sacrifice. Both of us knew that, but there was more to it and I realised that I'd never get to sit around the dinner table and eat with him and his family, despite their dislike towards me. I'd never get to walk hand in hand with him in public. I'd never be able to live a normal life with him. It was all bound to go down in flames before it could even begin.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asked, noticing that I'd been quiet for some time. I couldn't answer because quite frankly, I didn't know what to feel. Sad? Confused? Frustrated? No, angry. Angry that my life isn't what I intended it to be. If I couldn't live the life I wanted freely, what made me think I could love someone I couldn't have?

"I'll see you tomorrow." I said, irritated by the reality of my life.

I stand up from the bench and walk away, not giving Lindiwe a chance to respond. I thought I needed someone to talk to, and I did, but not just anyone. I needed my parents. Here I was in this big city, and I'd never felt so small as I did now. So inferior and helpless. Helpless of my emotions and quite frankly my surroundings. I was stuck, and I had nobody to ask for guidance. Suddenly I wondered how anyone like me, younger or older, survived living and working here. Being treated like slaves and working long hours for what? Ten Rand? A pair of shoes? Food? How could anyone settle to live like this? As much as I despised this life, I couldn't give up. Not when my family depended on me. I was doing this for them, and right now, that's all that mattered to me.

***

She's back from her break and she finds me sitting at the table, drinking coffee. She gives me a quick glance then walks over to me. Her expression is hard and emotionless. Something's bothering her.

"May I collect your laundry?" my eyes dart down to her clenching fists.

"Are you al-"

"I'm fine. May I collect your laundry or not?" the defensive tone in her voice makes me concerned, I raise my hand to try calm her down.

"Hey, what's going-", But she won't listen and she turns away from me and walks to my bedroom, I get out of my chair and I follow her.

"Maria, what's wrong?" She ignores my question and walks into the bathroom.

"Nothing." She murmurs, not looking at me anymore. I stand in the doorway of my bedroom, anticipating to block her from leaving the room. I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe this was my fault. She has the laundry basket in her hands, and when she sees me in the doorway, she rolls her eyes at me and walks up to me.

"Move." She orders, but I won't move. The dangerous glare in her eyes warns me to step aside, or else.

"You're not as scary as you think, you know." I tease, trying to lighten her mood, but the look in her eyes only makes it worse. She tilts her head to the side as she looks at me annoyed.