For her friends and family, the tall and elegant Dr. Easineya Zimba would do anything to put a smile on their faces.
That was why when her best friend asked her to organise her engagement party for her, she did not hesitate. She went all out and spared no cost.
As she stood at the entrance of the hall talking to the guests, her eyes moved discreetly around the room, making sure all was in place.
Her eyes lit up and a wide smile crossed her face when she saw Lemba and Nacilele walk in. She excused herself and hurried over to them.
“And the couple of the hour is here,” she said, welcoming both with kisses.
“Easineya. The place looks great,” Nacilele said, accepting a flute of champagne.
“Hey, only the best for you two. Come in, everybody is waiting for you. Why are you standing there for?”
They followed her in, stopping to greet a number of their guests. Most of the guests wore the colourful traditional misisi gowns.
“I can’t wait for you guys to announce your wedding date. You should do it already. I have already begun compiling what I think you guys might like, but that’s a topic for another day,” she said. “Right now is the time to announce you guys so this engagement party can start.”
Light as the wind on her feet, she was gone.
Nacilele gulped down her drink and rubbed at her forehead. “She is going to hate us for this,” she murmured.
“Maybe we should just go through with it,” Lemba mumbled, watching his sister fuss about. He hated to disappoint people, especially his sister. She had done so much for them.
“And then what? Will it change how you feel? What about me, Lemba? How do you expect me to live with myself knowing I forced you into this? Each time I see you sad, I will always wonder if maybe you could have been happy somewhere else.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of it that way,” he said, grabbing a flute of the liquid poison. This night wasn’t turning out as he had imagined.
Easineya stood talking at the mic. Her eyes caught sight of her brother and best friend talking. She frowned slightly at their odd behaviour.
She had thought it strange when they had both walked in dressed in their work clothes instead of the gowns she had chosen.
Nacilele had picked a white, waxy chitenge material with tiny intricate blue floral patterns that she was going to have sewn into both their gowns. She had been excited as she picked the designs while looking forward to tonight.
Then there was the way they were with each other. No holding hands. They stood apart from each other like strangers. The two were expressive with their hands, but not tonight.
It was odd and strange. Easineya figured she would have to have a chat with them later on after the party about their strange behaviour.
Loud applause followed the end of her speech as both Lemba and Nacilele joined her on stage.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming out tonight to support us as you have always done,” Lemba began. “Mum, Dad, Mrs. Nyambe, Mr. Nyambe sir, thank you.”
The two sets of parents raised their glasses in the air to them both, beaming with pride.
“Easineya, words ain’t enough, but thank you,” he raised his glass to her.
Easineya smiled back at him but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She looked at her best friend, who purposefully avoided her gaze.
“You have been there for us through all these years, supporting and encouraging us. That is why we hope that you will support us even as we take this step too.”
“Lemba and I,” Nacilele began, looking up at him. He reached down and squeezed her hand.
“We are calling off the engagement.”
Silence.
Then looks of shock and disbelief greeted their announcement. Easineya shook her head in protest.
“We all came out tonight to celebrate our union. Nothing has changed. Think of this as a celebration to end many beautiful years of a good friendship,” Lemba said to the shocked audience.
He raised his glass to them and nodded to the DJ to resume the music. The guests joined him in the toast, talking amongst themselves in whispers.
🕸🕸🕸
A breathless Ian rolled his sweaty body off Clere, a content smile on his face.
Staring at the tears with tears in her eyes, Clere pulled the sheet over her pale body.
“You, my dear, you are a workout,” he said. “If you were not so uptight, we could do this more often. You know, this doesn’t have to be a one-time thing.”
He reached to touch her, but she cringed away from him. He chuckled, settling in his place.
“You know, your father ought to worship you for the huge sacrifice you have made for the family. All fathers ought to have daughters like you.”
Clere grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around her chest, heading to the bathroom.
“Clere, wait,” he called her back.
She stood with her back to him. Ian rolled out of bed, grabbed the folder from under the bed pillow she had just laid her head on, and stalked over to her without bothering to cover his wrinkly naked body.
“My end of the bargain.”
Clere turned and kept her gaze away from his naked body.
“As we agreed. Your body for the company. Now Benedict Holdings will be back in your family’s hands.”
He reached out to touch her blonde curls. She swatted his hand away, glared at him, grabbed the folder, and walked away to the bathroom.
With the door securely locked behind her, she jumped into the shower and mercilessly scrubbed her pale body.
🕸🕸🕸
“Tell me it’s a lie,” Teliwe tearfully begged Pumulo Akowa, who had earlier pulled on some clothes.
Pumulo looked away from her. The pain in her voice and face wrung his heart.
“Tell me what she just said isn’t true, please,” she pleaded with him. Her trembling hands clutched at her tummy.
“Teli…” he began, taking a step towards her.
She stepped back, shaking her head, and looked at him like he was the plague of the century.
Maybe he was.
Had he not promised her his love and yet had gone on to marry another woman?
As he wrestled with his tormented thoughts, his wife walked out into the suite’s lounge, her hands thrust in the pockets of the mid-thigh white hotel robe.
“Pathetic,” she murmured and bee-lined for the minibar. She poured herself a glass of wine.
Pumulo glared at her. She smiled behind her glass of wine and shrugged her shoulders.
“Well, will you tell her, or do I have to? It was about time Cinderella took off her glass slippers and realized she never stood a chance.”
Pumulo covered his face in his palms and sighed. Silence filled the room.
It was a long while before he spoke. “I’m sorry, Teli. Nsemiwe and I… we got married this morning in Cape Town.”
An anguished sob escaped her mouth as Teliwe doubled over, sunk to her knees, and wailed as if she had just lost a loved one.
“I didn’t want you to find out this way. I was going to come and tell you myself tomorrow,” he said apologetically.
Teliwe let out a choked laugh. “Why? Would that have made the betrayal any less painful? What good would it have done?”
Pumulo looked down, shaking his head. His heart shredded to pieces at her pain. He was supposed to be the one protecting her but had ended up hurting her the most.
“Teli…”
“Did you even ever love me at all?”
“What does that matter now?” Nsemiwe asked her before Pumulo could even answer. “He is married to me, and that is all that matters.”
“Answer me, Pumulo!” she yelled at him, ignoring his wife. “I deserve at least that much. Please.”
“Oh, you are so shameless. Which part of ‘we are married now’ don’t you get? What does it matter if he loved you or not? I had just loaned him to you.”
Nsemiwe’s words left Teliwe weak in the knees. They buckled under her, making her fall into a heap on the plush carpet.
She looked from Nsemiwe to Pumulo, her heart breaking all over as she realized the past couple of years had all been a lie. Nothing was true. He had never been hers.
The realization had fresh tears rolling down her face as her heart twisted in pain.
“Teli, it’s not true.”
“I knew about you all these two years. I am a liberal woman; that is why I let you both be…” she began.
“Teli, please don’t believe a word she says. It’s not true.”
“No? Then what is the truth, Pumulo? Do let us know.” Nsemiwe taunted him, mischief in her eyes.
Pumulo looked away from her. Shame and guilt mingling with each other.
“I know men have their sexual urges, and he is no different,” she continued. “He needed an outlet. And you were it. But I will have none of it now that we are married, or you will both get it from me.”
Frustrated, Pumulo kicked into the sofa and growled out. Nsemiwe laughed as she watched the hurting pair.
“I’m sorry,” he apologised to Teliwe, before backing away into the bedroom.
INKED IMAGINATION
