The intensity of his gaze scared her, made her want to close the door and run away. But she didn't. She was Boitumelo Letsatsi - Ndlovu, those were all technicalities - and she wasn't scared of her husband.
Truth was she feared Themba. With him, one could never know what he might do and the thought of doing something blindly scared her out her heels.
Her heart went on overdrive, as she began panicking. Sweat trickled her palms and her knees got weaker.
She stood frozen by the door, waiting for him to act, speak - do anything to indicate that she was safe. "Ufunani lapha?!" his voice boomed, echoing in the office - and probably the entire building.
[Ufunani lapha - What do you want here]
"I brought you lunch?" she answered, as she shut the door and gingerly approached his table, though it sounded like a question. The thought of your lovely wife bringing you lunch after a busy day would make most men's hearts warm, but not his.
His heart was stone cold. It wasn't frozen - no amount of heat could melt it. It was probably genetics, only a mutation could alter his gene code and melt his heart. Unfortunately Boitumelo's presence wasn't a mutation.
"Phuma." he commanded. His voice was final, not leaving room for any arguments. The humble Zulu woman, maZulu wanted his son to marry would simply leave the takeout by the door and say, 'yebo bab' wakhe'
[•phuma - Get out
• yebo bab' wakhe - yes, his/her father]
Unfortunately Boitumelo wasn't that woman, so she tried persuading to him, "Babe, I got us your favorite wine. We can celebrate your court case, we'll get the receptionist to bring us some glasses..."
Before she could even get a chance to finish her sentence he was out of his chair and stomping towards her. He looked ready to kill, it was clear he wasn't going to hug her and ask her nicely to meet him at home.
His calloused palm found the soft skin of her left cheek faster than she could say 'sorry'. The impact of the hit had her angling her face to the right, away from him. "Thula mfazi! I told you to get the hell out of here!"
[Thula mfazi - Shut up woman]
With her head still facing away from him, she gave a meek nod. He roughly held her chin and pulled her face to look at him. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, I'm your husband. bloody hell." His commanding tone forced her to utter the weak apology she had been suppressing.
"Kungani uxolisa? Is it because you're horrible? Are you apologising for the lousy excuse of a wife you are? Or is it because you're good for nothing? Huh! Answer me, dammit!"
[Kungani uxolisa - Why are you apologising]
She had seen him angry countless times, but never that angry and he usually got angry when he was drunk. He was as sober as a judge, and that scared her. "Sorry Them-"
Her words were cut by the loud echo of another slap. In no time his long fingers were curled around Boitumelo's tiny neck. "Shut up! I'm tired of your voice, can't you see? Your ugly face and annoying voice are giving me a headache!"
Her first instinct was to try and loosen his hold on her neck, but his grip was too tight. Between pleading with him to let her go and trying to pry his fingers away from her neck, her lungs began to burn. Pain burned her eyes, while rage burned his.
She found it hard to breathe, her vision became blurry and her mind grew hazy. In that moment death was her only thought. 'Maybe if I had left after the first incident, I would not be in this situation' she thought to herself.
Her heartbeat - which was once beating to the tempo of some fast paced hip hop song began slowing down to match a slow classical tune. Themba's words were hard to make out, her eyes began slowly closing and she stopped feeling the heaviness in her lungs.
Suddenly everything stopped and the heavy weight, that made it hard for her to breathe, was lifted. A gust of air entered her lungs forcing her to cough loudly. She felt around her neck to find that Themba had removed his hand.
A good - rather pretentious - husband would try to fool her into thinking he was sorry. But Themba wasn't good, and he definitely would not pretend to be sorry.
"Out! Usalindeni?" The two words were enough to get Boitumelo scurrying out of the office like she had seen a monster. Which she probably had seen.
[usalindeni - What are you waiting for]
That day she left his office with a fixed decision, that she wouldn't forgive him. Little did she know she would change her mind faster than it took to boil a kettle of water.
____________________
~Bee♡
**I apologise for the late update, life has been hectic.
This is the last chapter before Themba's accident. If a few things are unclear to you, I will gladly explain, or if there's any translation you don't understand feel free to ask. (and if I have misspelled some words or translated words incorrectly, do correct me)
p.s. I can't make any promises in terms of updates, but I'll try to update as often as I can.
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Surviving ||On Hold
General Fiction"Ina lebe seromo." This is a Setswana proverb that means: you are your name. Your name is your destiny, it is who you become, and it is you. Batswana, like most if not all Africans, understand that your name defines your fate. That your name shape...
