THE RISE OF TUMELO By Author’s Voice Chapter 14

THE RISE OF TUMELO
CHAPTER 14 [Sponsored by anonymous.]
ITUMELENG
He’s staring at me again, and I’m starting to feel like I’m trapped in his gaze. I’m thinking of making an escape, heading upstairs to check out the gift bag he gave me, just to get some space. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes me stay put. It’s like I’m the only person in the world, and it’s making me feel seen.
Just as I stand up, he pulls me back onto the couch and wraps his hand around my waist. “You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice low and husky. I feel a flutter in my chest as I sink back into the cushions, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
He’s so close to my face that I can feel his breath on my skin. It’s weird, but I’m feeling really relaxed, not uncomfortable at all. He leans in, and our lips touch. A shiver runs down my spine, and I can’t help but kiss him back. He’s holding me closer, deepening the kiss, and I feel like I’m melting into him.
He picks me up and sets me on top of him, my legs straddling his waist. I can feel his arousal something is poking me, and it’s making me feel a bit wild. His hands are on my hips, pulling me closer, and I feel like I’m losing control.
But then he pulls back, his forehead sinking onto mine. His eyes are bloodshot and half-closed, and his lips are still so close to mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, and he responds, kissing me hungrily.
I haven’t felt a man’s touch in months, maybe even a year, and it’s like my body is starving for him. But then he whispers, “I can’t,” and pulls back again. I’m confused – what does he mean? I nod, trying to process what’s happening, and attempt to get off his lap. But he holds me tight, shaking his head.
He leans back on the couch, and I lay my head on his chest, closing my eyes. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’m not going to question it. At least, not yet.
–––
Itu doesn’t remember falling asleep, the last thing she recalls is the warmth of Tumelo’s chest as she laid her head on him. She wakes up to the bright sunlight streaming through the window, casting a warm glow over Tumelo’s bedroom. The sheets are rumpled and tangled, a testament to their earlier movements. She stretches, feeling a bit disoriented, and looks around the room. He’s nowhere to be seen, but the sound of the TV drifts from the lounge, a gentle hum that beckons her to get up.
She swings her legs over the side of the bed and plants her feet firmly on the ground, feeling the softness of the carpet beneath her toes. She stands up, arching her back in a languid stretch, and pads out of the room in search of food. Her stomach is growling, and she’s suddenly aware of how hungry she is. The smell of food wafts from the kitchen, enticing her to move faster.
As she walks into the lounge, she’s greeted by the sight of Tumelo sprawled on the couch, his eyes fixed intently on the soccer match playing on the TV. He’s wearing a pair of low-slung jeans and a white t-shirt. He looks up as she enters, his gaze meeting hers, and for a moment, they’re locked in a silent understanding. She feels a flutter in her chest as memories of their earlier encounter flood back – the way he touched her, the way he kissed her… She looks away, her cheeks flushing.
“Hey,” she says, trying to sound casual. “You’re awake, there’s lunch on the counter,” he replies, his voice low and smooth, his eyes never leaving the TV screen.
She smiles, feeling a bit self-conscious, and heads into the kitchen. The counter is laden with food, and her stomach growls in anticipation. She spots a Galito’s paper bag, and her face lights up. She takes a paper bag and dishes up for herself, the aroma of spicy peri-peri chicken wafting up to tease her senses. She fills a glass with juice, the ice clinging to the glass as she lifts it to her lips.
As she heads back to the lounge, she hesitates for a moment, wondering whether to join him on the couch. In the end, she opts for the single couch opposite him, settling into the cushions with her food and drink. She eats in silence, watching the match with half an eye, her mind whirling with thoughts of Tumelo and what happened between them.
She catches herself staring at him, taking in the strong lines of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners as he focuses on the game. He’s a complex man, with a rough exterior and a softer side that she’s only glipsed hints of. She likes his full, trimmed beard, his neat haircut, his big, lazy eyes… everything about him. She’s drawn to the way he moves with a quiet confidence, the way he carries himself with a sense of power and control.
“Are you okay?” Tumelo asks, his voice breaking into her thoughts. She starts, feeling a bit guilty, and nods quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, trying to sound nonchalant. She wasn’t aware she’d been staring.
She takes another bite of her food, savoring the flavors, and tries to focus on the game. But her eyes keep drifting back to Tumelo, drawn to the way his muscles flex as he moves, the way his eyes light up with excitement as he cheers on his team. She’s in trouble, she thinks, taking another bite of her chicken. She’s in big trouble.
–––
A DAY LATER…
Zibuyile, is finally back in SA with her daughter. They’re in an Uber to her parent’s house, she’s happy to be back home and nervous at the same time that Tumelo might find out that she’s back and kill her. She fears the most for her daughter’s life if Tumelo finds out. So hopefully whatever her mother planned works for her. She’s got a big brother his name is Lebohang, they don’t really get along well. He’s still mad that she lied to the police that Tumelo forced himself on her. The lies, the drama, it’s all still so raw.
Arriving at her parents house, Lebo is seated in the verandah facing the gate, sipping on a cold beer. “Malume,(uncle.)” Vuyi runs with her two luggage’s to her uncle which aren’t that heavy for her. Zibuyile is standing at the gate with her 3 heavy luggage’s, a mix of emotions swirling inside her.
Yes she’s not in good terms with her brother but he should be happy to see her and help her with the luggage’s. But Lebo is not focused on her, instead he stands up and hugs his niece tightly. “Vuyi, how’s my girl?” he asks, smiling.
Zibuyile sighs and drags 2 luggage’s to the door step, when she reaches there. Lebo and Vuyi are already inside talking with, Mokgadi– her mother. She turns back to the gate and takes the last one before knocking and forcing her smile.
“Zibuyile.” Mokgadi runs towards Zibuyile and hugs her. “Ma.” She hugs her back. “I’m happy you’re finally here.” She says pulling out the hugs, her eyes teary.
“I’m happy to be here, Ma,” Zibuyile replies, trying to sound calm. “Lebohang help your sister with the bags.” Mokgadi says to his son. Lebo just grunts, not moving from his spot.
“I’m not the reason she ran to Botswana.” He says disappearing in his room, leaving everyone awkward.
“He still hates me,” Zibuyile says hurt. “It’s alright my baby he’ll come around, he’s your big brother he doesn’t hate you. Come let me help you with the bags.” Mokgadi says, trying to reassure her.
Zibuyile nods, feeling a mix of emotions. She’s home, but it doesn’t feel like it. Not yet, anyway.
–––
They’ve just finished having dinner, Vuyi went to her room, Lebo went out an hour ago. This is the perfect moment to talk, Lebo doesn’t have to know about their plans because he might ruin it. “I’m stressed Ma, there’s no way he has forgotten.” Zibuyile says looking stressed, her eyes darting around the room.
“You stress too much, your face has changed. In his mind he thinks you’ll never come back here.” Mokgadi says assuring her, but it’s not simple for Zibuyile to trust her mother.
“He’ll still see me Ma, what’s the plan? That I move around Nelspruit free and assume he won’t recognize me?” She’s breathing faster, her mother is stressing her right now. She thought she had a good plan.
Mokgadi chuckles and looks at Zibuyile. “Zibuyile, you remember that you told me that he didn’t use protection. Vuyi is 14 and he was in prison for 15 years.” She says with a smile on her face like a genius.
“So? Ma, I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.” Zibuyile says, her patience wearing thin.
“You can lie and say Vuyi is his daughter.” She says and it clicks, yes there are high possibilities that Vuyi might be Tumelo’s daughter but she’s confused as well and doesn’t know who Vuyo’s father between Tumelo and Thabang– the guy she was busy with while with Tumelo.
Zibuyile’s mind is racing, weighing the pros and cons. If Tumelo believes Vuyi is his daughter, he might leave them alone. But what if he wants to be part of Vuyi’s life? What if he doesn’t believe her? “Ma, what if he doesn’t buy it?” Zibuyile asks, her voice laced with doubt.
Mokgadi’s expression turns serious. “Then we’ll deal with it, but we have to try. We can’t keep living in fear, Zibuyile. You have to protect Vuyi, no matter what.” She says, her voice firm. Zibuyile nods, feeling a mix of determination and fear. They’re playing with fire, but it’s a risk they have to take.
Mokgadi adds, “Besides, if he does believe us, maybe he’ll finally get a DNA test – that’s the only way he’ll believe anything in life!” Zibuyile rolls her eyes, “Ma, this is serious.” Mokgadi laughs, “I know, but someone’s gotta keep us sane.” 😊
Zibuyile sighs, feeling a tiny bit lighter. They sit in silence for a moment, the tension palpable. Then Mokgadi speaks up. “We’ll need to work on your story, make it believable. And we’ll need to prepare Vuyi, make sure she knows what to say.” Zibuyile nods, her mind already racing with the details. It’s a long shot, but it’s their best chance.
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