If we didn’t let the almost perfect family
scene take over and leave us in bed together, it was threats to scratch my car
and tear up the white leather. Wezi loved and hated our family get together,
deep down she knew. I’d always tell her, my son comes first what can I do? Deep
down I knew this was Wezi`s way of trying to get back to us, fix us. Public
outings seemed fine, her house? That was a different ball game. I was like a
clumsy kid walking into a house made of glass. She could never use our son, not
like this. Love does things, Judas’ love for money was confirmed with a simple
kiss.
“So Ntazana. Let’s talk. Now. We are not
leaving till we do.” Flash backs disappear... Shit. They are all still
here.
There is no getting past this. This is
real. I turn and look at Mukandi, My number two. The one who made me forget the
crazy relationship I had with Wezi. I did not cheat on any of them. I met her
after Wezi and I were done. No hope there really. I needed stability and some
sort of serenity.
“Aunt M was saying hi, asking how you are.”
It was an automated truth, my Aunt always asked about her. "She’s an
opposite copy of Wezi" Aunt M would say every other day. I hate the honest
comparison; Wezi was once more than just the mother of my son.
My little Kandi, her calm, silent, soft
nature wanted me to be with her, be more than a memory, an ex or an emotional
scar. Quick to apologize and try to find a solution without verbal
altercations. A fan of walks on the beach and romantic vacations.
Slightly young and naïve, but with a passion to learn and grow. Almost
submissive yet oozed something that repelled notions to take advantage of her
or cause her any pain. Would she challenge me? Keep me on my toes. What would
she say if she heard I was out partying in a room full of hoes? Say she trusts
me or go crazy like Wezi?
I’d work hard and she would be home waiting
for me. Her beauty was clearly visible but not like Jasmine, the type to get
unnecessary attention from men. She allowed a certain aspect of my youth
to slowly walk behind. An almost, blind love. A hopeless romantic’s dream. Two
true believers of love, what a team.
When I overworked myself and let my mood
swings get the best of me, she was like a little innocent puppy that just
stared. She had the look of a mother hen, or a mother when asking her son on
death row to be spared. Kandi was worth it all. For her I would give up my
singlehood and settle. She was it.
I ignore Jasmine because I know she will
break down any second soon. Inonge catches my eye. The crush I never let go of.
The workmate I always wanted something from. The one who showed me what fun
should really be like. And I fell into it head on forgetting I had a
woman back at home waiting.
Ms Inonge Imata… The things office
passionate fantasies are made of. She oozed confidence and always seemed in
control. Office assistants would place tea and confectionary treats on the
table and pick up men’s jaws off the floor. She intimidated men and broke down
the very loud, very flamboyant twenty year old something women. I was drawn to
her like a black moth/black Knight to the light/an ice queen in white. I asked
questions in meetings when I already knew the answer, she knew this but
humoured me. The growing lust was like a cancer. Cliché compliments of how she
was aging like wine would be laughed at. Pursuit of her would be an art. She’d
catch me day dreaming and ask questions like a hot teacher in class, but my
quick wit and background checks always saved my ass.
“I know that when we started this we agreed
to keep it strictly ‘business’ and it had turned to a beautiful mess.”
“Let’s go, you know want to, picture all the things we’ll get to do, without
looking over our shoulder” … We were equally matched mentally, her body was the
reminder. That
she was older. But that did not take anything away from the beautiful curves on
her, irony is she reminded me of the A5. My...Our Car?
Her thighs teased me as I gave her every
detail of our pending get away, she suppressed a smirk and shook her head at
everything I'd say, but her eyes told no lies. I kissed her thighs as I spoke,
soft moans escaped her lips with every stroke. She worked hard for this big
office so her soft moans would not escape the room. She had climbed the male
dominated cooperate ladder with no groom. My liberal mind took her places. My
character was beyond her law degree and cases. She leaned back on the chair as
her tasted her youth like ripe plum. It was just office antics, strictly
business, there was no harm.
She was the type of woman CEOs and MDs
married yet here she was. An iron lady, having survived uncountable wars. No
morning school runs, tying her little daughters’ hair in buns. Just a lust
fuelled relationship, to pass the time. Time she didn’t seem to have after the
little grey hair I noticed the other day. Rubbers in her bag, glove
compartment. Most men (who she avoided) would not understand what this
meant.
I kiss her…then randomly kiss her hips. “I
love you Inonge Imata. See you in Lusaka!” The words involuntarily left my
lips. The lust now masked as a strong emotional connection, what happened to
the actions and thoughts driven merely by an erection.
How would I even introduce to her the
family, age is nothing but a digit. My Aunt and family would slap me and tell
me to take a seat. This was "strictly business", was I lost in her
pie? Her mind? Checks and balances weren’t adding up, crap.
Why was she here? She of all people knew
better than to be part of such drama. This could only mean one thing; she had
fallen for me. Her, Inonge Imata, in love with me, Ntazana.
“Ntazana. Should we tell her? Besides she’s
here too so she has a right to know.” The Flash Backs disappear…
Maybe I needed the feeling of being trapped
to stop. Maybe I needed one more girl. Just a fling to make it all worthwhile.
I knew who would be my wife. I had her face in my sights but just one more. One
more short play and I would be done.
“Can you calm down… do you want me dead or
late” I cut the line as I approached a familiar gate. It was my close friend’s
birthday and I had miscalculated the time it would take for me to leave the
office, change and be there. I entered the room, but the tipsy birthday girl
didn’t even seem to care. I kissed one cheek, handed her a little bag and
barely kissed the other, “what’s in the baaag?!” We both screamed. Memories of
university days and How I Met Your Mother marathons.
A few waves at familiar faces and I noticed
a free seat. Jasmine, another cliché line plays in my head as I sit. Her beauty
is as exotic as her name. Fate playing some silly game, placing us so close
together? A hint? Never! She took care of herself, put in all the extra
effort. Could almost see her in nothing but a white shirt, my white shirt,
staring through the window of a loft. Laughs, high fives and shots of tequila
later and I made conversation, she seemed broken. A beauty that lived in a
house with no mirror. Her beauty did not match her confidence, she seemed easy
to talk to. It almost didn’t make any sense. I was simply being social, ensured
there was no flirting and all. I was drawn in, unable to explain this comfort,
lost in thought rubbing my chin.
I told her the most complicated aspect of
my life, about my beautiful son and his strong willed, no time for bullshit
mother. Oh, how I bragged about my little man, yes. I was a proud father. A
part of me didn’t want this to go any further, but her exotic beauty, her
demeanour, her voice; light and soft as a feather. A date was set, one I looked
forward to with little regret.
She had paid attention to my attraction
towards white, wearing a tight little number that almost didn’t feel right. I
was amused yet disappointed that she played such a cliché card. She was extremely attractive, yet it seemed
like she was trying a little too hard. Eyes escorted us as we made our way to
our table. The attention, she was like a trophy, a label. I shook the thoughts
from my head, hoping she’d repeat what she had just said. A lovely lunch with
uncontrolled laughter, and traces of her in my car after… Jazz as I called her.
The name was set, we were officially together.
She could be with anyone else and she
decided to be with me, but most were usually after her beauty. Some ego fuelled
game of acquisition while I seem to calculate every single thing like I did
with every decision. I lied about who I stayed with, if she knew I lived
alone, this would get beyond my control fast. I promised myself this wouldn’t
last. I`d come clean and take every punch and kick, every stone and every
stick.
"Ntazana the fool has been caught. He
has been dating all of us. All of us." Flash backs stop…
It hit me, she knew something was up, she
seemed different but I couldn’t put my finger on it, she was so easy to read.
How did I not see this coming, Shit. Flash backs stop.
I deserve this.
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