Life Of A King

Chapter 44

- KAMVELIHLE DANE KING

Imi and I have been awake since morning, meticulously cleaning the house to perfection in anticipation of our parents' return. With the assistance of our housekeeper, we've ensured every corner is up to the standard. Aunty Kylie arrives to take us to church, and the service turns out to be uplifting.

"Your parents will be back later today, they got a little held up," Aunty Kylie informs us as we drive to her house, all of us in the car with her small family.

"Oh," Imi responds, stealing a glance at me. I shrug nonchalantly.

"Did they mention what time, maybe?" I inquire.

"Maybe around 6 pm or so, but you will spend the rest of the evening here until they come back. They'll fetch you from here," she explains. We nod, and after parking in their yard, we all disembark, making our way to the house. Jonah goes upstairs to change, leaving Imi and me with his parents.

"You kids make yourselves comfortable, okay? I'm going to change out of these, and then I can start on lunch," Kylie says, and we nod before heading to sit in the lounge. Imi switches on the TV while Jonah's parents go upstairs.

"So, how was dinner?" I ask her.

Imi rolls her eyes. "It would have been better if the father wasn't there. He was very inquisitive and sexist."

I laugh at the disdain in her voice. "Woah, what did he do?"

"Because I want to follow in Dad's footsteps, suddenly Tshepiso needs to have a firm hand with me. Apparently, successful women are very disrespectful," she says, her anger palpable. I reach out, touching her knee.

"Calm down," I advise.

"I don't understand how Tshepiso is his son, and yet he is so sweet and nothing like him. I mean, Tshepiso is an angel compared to his father. He respects women; he literally worships the ground I walk on," she proudly declares, and I shrug.

"I'm glad you're happy, Imi. He seems to make you happy."

"He really does," she nods.

"Ofentse still giving you trouble?" I inquire, and she nods.

"Why aren't you telling Tshepiso this, Imi? Huh? I mean, she's trying to break you and him up, and you're allowing her to get to you," I press.

"I don't want to seem dramatic over nothing. Those pictures are probably old, and the things she's saying aren't bothering me," she insists, and I shoot her a skeptical look.

"Is that so? And then what happens if she makes a move on him?" I challenge.

She shrugs. "He knows better."

I nod. Imi has been receiving suggestive pictures of Ofentse and Tshepiso for the past few days, yet she refuses to tell him about them. She's even sending Ofentse threatening texts and created a fake account on social media, trolling Imi—or at least, that's what we would like to believe it's her behind the account.

"I hope so, Imi, for your sake."

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- SAMKELISIWE LUDIDI KING

"...Love himself, wounded for me

Grace himself, bruised for my sins

You lay down your life, Great is your love shown to us.

Son of God, Rejected by man

Lamb of God, Slaughtered for me..."

My husband and I sing along to Sarah Mtsweni's 'Your Love,' my favorite gospel song—well, all her songs are my favorite. I turn to my husband, looking at him as he focuses on the road. This song is our testimony. It's my testimony because we would never be where we are today without the love of God.

"...So amazing

Unexplainable

Nothing like your love.

Jesus

So amazing

Unexplainable

Nothing like your love.

Jesus..."

He takes my hand from my lap and kisses it.

"I love you, Samkelisiwe," he says, and I feel a zoo spring to life in my stomach. It feels like he's saying it for the first time, the way I'm blushing like an idiot right now.

"I love you too, Samkelo," I say, and he chuckles.

"Isn't it strange that we're both Sams?" he asks, and we both laugh.

"It took a while to get used to, didn't it?" I say, and he chuckles.

"Don't get me started on the mail. Imagine if you hadn't added the D to your initials; I'd still be getting your mail," I add, and he laughs. In the early days of our marriage, it wasn't easy with our mail. Sometimes they forget to include "Mrs" or "Mr," and we would end up opening each other's mail. After all that trouble, we decided he should make Dylan his first name and Samkelo his second to avoid confusion. I added 'Ludidi' as my first surname, and it worked. The transition from your original surname to your spouse's is a struggle; it feels like you're losing your identity. But I was more than happy to lose my parents' surname; it made me feel like I was still holding on to them.

"We've been through hell and back, haven't we?" he says again, kissing the back of my hand.

"Yes, we have, and I am grateful we are where we are now," I say as we come to a stop at the traffic lights. It's late, and we're on our way back to our house since the kids are going back to school. With exams approaching in a month, we need to be there, ensuring that they are studying and doing their best. They are currently busy with controlled tests.

"Honey, watch out for that person," I warn as he drives off when the lights turn green.

"Don't worry, babe," he says carelessly. A driver cuts us from behind for some reason.

"...I will never find a love like yours, Lord

Your love chases after me

Your love captures me, Lord

When I was dead in my sins

It is your love, Jesus

Your love..."

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To Be Continued