💃A man worth knowing🤔🤔

💋Chapter Ten💋
(Grand Finale😵)

 

It was a bad déjà vu moment.
She could’ve been replaying the
same scene in his Cape Town
apartment five years ago; hearing
the same words, like a terrifying echo
of the past. Mandi choked back a sob
as she felt that sharp, invisible knife
drive itself deeper into her heart. It
thrust the pain into her throat. It
clenched her stomach so tightly she
feared she might throw up.
He talked about torture, but he
didn’t know what torture was.This
was torture.
‘Simply because I wore a wedding
dress at a fashion show, you think
I’m trying to force you to get
married?’
Even to her own ears, the words
sounded hollow and ridiculous.
‘I can’t change who I am,
Mandisa.’ Themba spoke slowly. ‘I
would only disappoint you if you
thought otherwise.’
Mandi dropped her head, then raised
it slowly. She looked at him, as if
seeing him for the first time. It was
as if she was seeing his every demon.
And it scared her.
‘You’re right. I would be
disappointed,’ she said. ‘I’d
rather have no dream than half a
dream.’
Themba bit off an expletive.
‘That’s your problem. You see
things in black and white. You’ve
never learned to compromise.’
‘Don’t lay this on me, Themba,’
she hit back. ‘You’re the one
making the rules.’
‘Am I?’ he mocked. ‘You’ve
always been the one holding out for
marriage. You want some neat
traditional ending. Well, life doesn’t
work out that way. I won’t be held
to ransom.’
‘Is that how you see marriage?’
Mandi shook her head, more out of
sadness than frustration. ‘As a
trap? A hostage situation?’
‘That’s not what I meant.’ His
jaw muscles tensed. ‘Look, let’s
discuss this later. Get in the car. We
have a party to get to.’
As if she was watching herself from
a distance, she stepped forward and
slapped him. ‘Get into that fancy
car and drive the hell out of my life,
Themba Dlane.’
Themba reached out to touch her.
She slapped his hand away with both
of hers. With a reserve of strength
she did not know she possessed, she
pushed him back against the car.
Anger boiled inside her.
‘Don’t think you’ll ever touch me
again!’ It came out as a hiss.
‘I’m just glad I found out how
deep your pathological fear of
commitment ran before I decided to
ever sleep with you. How dare you
think I would try to trick you into
marriage?’
‘Mandi –’
She didn’t listen. She turned and
ran in the other direction. She
didn’t want to see him. He was out
of her life and this time it would be
for good. Forever.
Mandi couldn’t stop the tears from
gushing down her face. How? How
did a night of triumph turn into a
night of despair?
She collected herself together
enough to drive herself to the after-
party at the club.
She didn’t know how she got
through the night. Feeling empty and
desolate inside, she detached from
herself and everyone around her. It
was as if she was acting on
autopilot. The festivities left her raw
and aching inside.
Themba was goGone.
Mandi spent the next few days in
limbo, in a state between numb
emptiness of loss and faint pulses of
anger. She didn’t get out of bed for
two whole days. She was hurting and
nothing and no one could comfort
her.
Not even the news of orders flooding
the boutique and rising sales could
cheer her up. She felt listless,
abandoned, used. She didn’t think
she’d ever recover from the shock,
did not for a moment believe that the
pain would ever end.
Her sister tried to call her from Cape
Town. Linda tried to call her. She did
not accept any calls, wanting only to
be alone.
When she made it back to the
boutique, Andrew Morena informed
her that the collection had sold out
completely.
‘In fact, the factory simply can’t
keep up with the demand,’ he
gushed. ‘Midnight Rose is a runaway
success, sweetie!’
Mandi didn’t care. Her success was
grey and tasteless.
A week later, Mandisa sat at her
worktable in the studio at the back
of Midnight Rose, just staring at a
blank page in her sketchbook. She
heard a knock at the door.
She snapped, ‘I said I wanted to
be left alone, Andrew.’
Gloria Nosiswe Dlane stood in the
doorway. ‘It’s me. May I come in,
my dear?’
Mandi knew it would be rude to
refuse the woman entrance, but she
didn’t feel up to seeing Themba’s
mother. ‘I don’t think I’m good
company at the moment, Nosiswe.’
‘This won’t take long.’
Mandi stood. ‘Coffee?’
‘That would be nice’
While she prepared the filter coffee,
Nosiswe looked around the small
studio. ‘I imagine you must be
busy.’
Mandi nodded.
Nosiswe said, ‘You must be so
proud of the success you’ve
achieved.’
Mandi smiled weakly as she set down
two cups on the worktable. ‘Have
you come to discuss the costumes
for the theatre?’
‘No.’ Nosiswe sat opposite her.
‘I heard about your fight with
Themba.’
‘Not a fight,’ Mandi said blankly.
‘A break-up.’
There was a pause and then Nosiswe
spoke. ‘I think I owe you the truth,
Mandisa.’
She was confused. ‘The truth?’
‘I think you deserve it,’ the older
woman said softly. ‘It may help you
understand why Themba behaves the
way he does.’
‘I appreciate it, but it doesn’t
matter anymore,’ Mandi said.
‘It’s over.’
‘Please just let me explain,’
Nosiswe urged, her dark eyes stark
with emotion. ‘Sometimes it’s
helpful to understand the past.’
Mandi took a sip of her coffee,
nodded vaguely. She still felt broken
inside.
‘I met Themba’s father at a dance
... here in Johannesburg,’ Nosiswe
began. ‘I was working at the market
and saw Simon every day – a jaunty,
popular, handsome, idealistic young
man. He understood my dream of
becoming an actress. In fact, he
supported all my dreams. I fell in
love with him. I know he loved me
and wanted to marry me.’
‘What happened?’
The other woman heaved a sad sigh,
unshed tears glittering in her dark
eyes.
‘Simon was dedicated to the
Movement for Freedom, covertly
fighting the apartheid regime. At the
same time, my father was involved
with another black consciousness
group, called the Soweto Congress
for Change and he didn’t like what
Simon’s group was doing. There
was a lot of friction in those days
and eventually Simon went
underground.’
‘That doesn’t sound like a great
situation.’
‘It wasn’t,’ Nosiswe continued.
‘When I fell pregnant with Themba,
my father kept me a prisoner at our
house. Simon was wanted by the
secret police in connection with an
illegal rally. My father said I
wouldn’t be able to see Simon ever
again, unless I told him where he
could find him.
I felt I had no choice.’
‘What happened to him? To
Simon?’
‘My father said the police just
wanted to talk to Simon. He lied.
He’d conspired with these
apartheid thugs.’ A pause. ‘I gave
him the location of Simon’s
hideout.’ A pause. ‘Simon was
assassinated.’
Mandi clapped her hand over her
mouth. ‘Nosiswe, that’s terrible.’
Her blood had turned cold. Horror
filled her mind.
‘After that, my father’s political
movement was in collusion with the
secret police, but they eventually
turned on him, too. The poor fool!’
A tear slipped down Nosiswe’s
cheek.
‘Soon our whole family were targets
for arrest,’ she continued sadly.
‘I fled, first to Cape Town. I left
Themba, my little baby, with my
cousin and his wife. I had to leave
him, Mandi. I had just enough money
to escape to Paris, but I knew I’d
never be able to come back to South
Africa.’
‘Why not?’ Mandi asked.
‘There were members of the
Movement for Freedom who felt I’d
betrayed Simon and their cause. I
wasn’t welcome back here. When my
son found me, five years ago, I was
living in near poverty. I’d made
some money with a book I wrote, but
the money soon ran out.’
‘So ... is that the reason Themba
was so driven?’
Nosiswe nodded. ‘That’s why he
needed money. To come and find me
and get the answers to his past. He
worked hard to arrange for me to
come home – but it took a long time
for him to organise the right
documents.’
‘That’s why he left here?’ Mandi
asked softly. ‘To find you? In
Paris?’
‘He rescued me,’ Nosiswe said,
smiling through her tears. ‘He gave
me back my life here in South
Africa.’
‘One you’ve made a great success
of,’ Mandi interjected, reaching out
and touching the older woman’s
shoulder.
‘Just remember, money wasnever his only objective, Mandisa,’
the older woman reminded her gently,
grasping Mandi’s hand and holding
it tightly. ‘He wanted it for what it
could do for me, and for himself, yes.
He wants to help others, you must
understand that.’
Mandi broke away from Nosiswe,
stood up. ‘I still don’t know why
you’re telling me this.’
She turned away from Nosiswe, but
she could hear her.
‘For most of his life, Themba grew
up believing he’d been abandoned
by me, forcing him to grow up in
poverty. He still believes all the
women he loves will abandon him ...
so he rejects them
first.’ She paused. ‘It’s how he
protects himself, protects his
pride.’
‘But you came back!’ Mandi
exclaimed, turning around again.
‘He must understand that it
wasn’t your fault you had to leave
him behind!’
‘Yes, he does.’ Nosiswe sighed.
‘However, emotions are not always
easy to understand, especially for a
man like Themba. Some part of him is
still that small, defenceless child who
was left behind. It’s hard for him
to be happy.’
‘I see.’
‘When he’s vulnerable, he will
revert back to shutting everyone out,
even those he cares about,’
Nosiswe said. ‘And a man is never
as vulnerable as when he is in love.’
Mandi was shocked and relieved all
at the same time. She understood his
behaviour better now. The final piece
of the puzzle.
‘You should tell him this.’ She
sighed. ‘Not me.’
‘No,’ Nosiswe was adamant, ‘my
son needs to hear it from the woman
he loves.’ She stood, walked
towards Mandi. ‘He needs to
understand that you will not leave
him, Mandisa.’
‘I don’t see how any of this will
help,’ she murmured. ‘He won’t
change his mind.’
‘Why is it so important to you that
he marries you?’ The question was
posed in a gentle manner. ‘It’s as
if without a ring on your finger, you
don’t trust his love for you either.
Perhaps you should
be more trusting of his feelings ...
and your own.’
Mandi was stung, but conceded the
woman had a point.
She’d been so insecure after her
parents died, she’d transferred all
her feelings to Themba. For a young
man with a lot on his mind, it must
have been a suffocating experience.
No doubt, she’d acted like a brat
five years ago, demanding he marry
her, not understanding his
commitment to finding his mother.
If I’d only known, she thought. If
he’d only told me ... !
Perhaps if she’d been more mature,
if she’d trusted their shared love, if
she’d had faith in Themba, things
would’ve worked out differently.
‘Do you think it’s too late for
us?’
Nosiswe pulled her into a tight
embrace. ‘It’s never too late for
love. Go to him.’ By this time, both
women were crying openly.
That afternoon, Mandi booked a flight
down to Cape Town and she was on a
plane the next morning. It was as if
things were coming full circle. She
only prayed she wasn’t too late. If
I lose him again , she thought
anxiously, I won’t survive .
As soon as the jet landed, Mandi
rented a small car and drove down to
the city. She’d got Themba’s
address from his mother, but first
she had another stop to make. Within
a half hour, she was parked in front
of an apartment building in Sea Point.
She walked up the stairs to Nombi’s
flat.
Her sister opened door on the third
and loudest knock. She was wearing
white denim shorts and a skimpy T-
shirt that didn’t cover her midriff.
Mandi kept her sunglasses on, not
only to hide the exhaustion in her
eyes, but also the overwhelming
emotion.
She didn’t bother with a greeting.
‘Nombi, you were about to tell me
something at the fashion show. What
was it?’
‘You’d better sit down for this.’
Nombi was uncomfortable, shifting
from one foot to another. ‘Come in.
I’ll make us some tea.’
‘No,’ she demanded. ‘Tell me
now.’
Nombi said, ‘He tried to find you.’
‘Themba?’
‘Yes.’
‘When?’ Mandi asked impatiently.
‘After the show?’
‘No.’ Nombi’s voice thickened
with guilt. ‘Five years ago.
Remember when you went away to
Durban with the fashion college?’
Her heart kicked in her chest.
‘Yes?’
‘Themba came round to the house in
Kenilworth, demanding to see you,’
her sister explained. ‘Uncle Jakes
told him you’d moved permanently
and you didn’t want to see him.
Themba found me at school the next
day, and interrogated me. I told him
you weren’t coming back.’
Cold blood drained through Mandi’s
veins. ‘Why didn’t you ever tell
me?’
‘I don’t know,’ Nombi said.
‘Uncle Jakes made me swear to tell
Themba that lie, but I guess ... I was
also jealous of you and Themba. I
thought there was – I don’t know –
a chance for him and me with you out
of the picture.’
Shocked to the core, Mandi let out a
small cry. ‘Oh my God – I don’t
believe this.’
‘I was young and selfish and
infatuated,’ Nombi rushed on. ‘Can
you understand that, sisi?’ Her
voice was hoarse with emotion. ‘Can
you ever forgive me?’
‘I don’t know, maybe in time,’
Mandi said. ‘Right now, I have to
find Themba.’
Without bothering with a goodbye,
she rushed back to her rental car.
He came back for me,she thought wildly. He looked for me.
Uncle Jakes and Nombi kept him from
me. He still wanted me, he came back
... .
She made it to the address in Camps
Bay in record time. His modern beach
house overlooked the sea, with lots
of glass sliding doors and wide
balconies.
Mandi raced up the endless stairs
and knocked on the glass door. An
old housekeeper slid the door open, a
suspicious look in her eyes. Mandi
was breathless.
‘I need to see Themba.’
The old woman was not friendly.
‘He’s not here.’
‘Can I come in to use the
telephone?’ Desperation was etched
into every word. ‘My cellphone’s
battery has died on me!’
The woman must have thought she
had a trustworthy face, because she
allowed her in. Picking up a sleek
white phone in the living room, she
dialled his number. It went straight
to voicemail.
Damn! Perhaps it would be wiser to
check at his office.
As she walked out of his living room,
a picture on the wall caught her
attention. Mandi froze in front of it,
as a tingling wave of awareness
caused the hair on her arms to rise.
Themba’s face. As perfect as a
dream. Staring down at her.
Mandi blinked. It couldn’t be, could
it?
Yes, it was the picture she’d
sketched of him five years ago, that
night of their anniversary dinner,
while she’d waited for him to come
home.
Oh, God! Themba must have found it
behind his sofa. He’d kept it. Not
only had he kept it, but he’d had it
blown up to full portrait size and
enhanced with soft charcoal colour,
emphasising the lines and angles of
his magnificent face.
Mandi’s heart felt like it would
explode with joy. If she’d ever
needed proof that Themba Dlane
loved her, she realised, she was
looking at it. He’d kept this part of
her, of their past; he’d framed it
and cherished it and hung it in his
home where he could look at it every
day.
He did love her. He’d never stopped
loving her. Just as she’d never
stopped loving him. Yes,
circumstances and his fractured
past had kept them apart, but now
none of those obstacles existed.
‘Why are you crying, miss?’ the
housekeeper asked.
‘Because I’m so happy.’
‘I think you’re crazy,’ came the
reply. ‘You should leave. I’m
calling the neighbourhood watch
now.’
‘I’m leaving,’ Mandi managed
between tears and laughter. ‘I’m
leaving!’
Mandi drove down to Dlane
Investments in the city. There she
was told by Themba’s personal
assistant that he was up in
Johannesburg on business. No, the
assistant informed her, she
didn’t know when he’d be back.
It was a long and lonely flight back
to Johannesburg. But it gave her
time to think. She had to forgive her
Uncle Jakes and Nombi for lying to
her for years. She knew they had
both been trying to protect her from
heartbreak.
With a heavy heart, she wondered
how she was going to track Themba
down in Johannesburg. Would he be
at the Michelangelo again? Another
hotel? She’d start looking
tomorrow, she told herself. Right
now, she was exhausted.
She collected her car at OR Tambo
and drove slowly along the quiet
highways back to her
house in Parkmore. The streets had
never looked more empty, but each
light she saw offered her a sense of
hope. Just after nine o’clock, she
slid her small car into her driveway.
Painfully, her heart jolted in her
chest when she saw a familiar black
sports convertible parked out front;
it leapt into her throat when she saw
Themba outside her door, lit by her
outside porch light. With shaking legs
and trembling hands, she stepped out
the car.
Behind her was the dark night, the
shadows of the past. Yesterday.
Up there, in a halo of sweet gold
light, was Themba. Tomorrow. The
brightness of the future.
She rushed up the stairs, only to
stop a few paces from him. Their
eyes met and locked. It was a
moment of recognition, awareness,
acceptance.
Without a word, Themba swept her
up in his arms and kissed her.
‘Where have you been?’
‘Looking for you,’ she admitted
breathlessly. ‘Why did you come
here?’
‘If I think of how I’ve looked for
you!’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t
think I could survive another
separation from you!’
She looked up into his face. ‘You
mean it?’
‘Before you pulled up in your car,
I’d have given my entire fortune
just to see your face again.’
‘You don’t mean that, do you?’
‘You’d better believe it.’
She touched his face with exquisite
tenderness. ‘You rescued me that
night in the hotel, I’ll never forget
it.’
He cupped her chin in his strong,
warm hand. ‘No, we rescued each
other, Mandi.’
‘Oh, Themba! You don’t know what
it means to hear you say that.’ She
paused. ‘I have to apologise for my
family. I know now that Uncle Jakes
lied to you, told you I’d moved
away.’
‘What –?’ Anger spiked his voice.
‘Shhh, it doesn’t matter,’ she cut
him off. ‘I saw the portrait in your
house.’
‘You did?’ A small guilty smile lit
his handsome face. ‘It was all I had
left of you after that night we broke
up.’
‘And you kept it?’ she asked.
‘Because you loved me?’
‘Because I do love you still, my
pretty one.’
‘Oh, Themba!’
‘I don’t know what happened to
me at the fashion show. I saw that
wedding dress and I ... I freaked
out. It was like seeing all my worst
fears right there up on the stage.’
‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t care
if we never get married,’ she said.
‘I just know I want to be with you,
marriage or no marriage. It’s not
important.’‘That’s why I was looking for
you,’ he said, holding her closer.
‘I want to marry you. I’ve
spent an agonising few days without
you and I’ve realised something.’
‘What?’
‘I was scared not of what marriage
would mean, but of what it would
mean to lose you for a second
time.’
Nosiswe’s words flashed into her
mind and she realised Themba was
still frightened of being abandoned.
‘You don’t have to worry about
that. You’ll never lose me. Never.’
His mouth came down on hers. Their
lips formed a seal, a circle of
eternity, a never-ending ring of love.
Mischief danced in Themba’s eyes
as he broke the kiss.
‘You think Midnight Rose will sell me
that magnificent wedding dress?’
he asked. ‘I’m going to need it for
a special bride.’
‘Maybe,’ she smiled. ‘I think the
owner can be persuaded to sell it.’
‘I love you, Mandisa.’ His kissed
her until she felt her smile in her
heart. ‘If you agree to be my bride,
you’ll make me the happiest man on
earth.’
‘I’ve loved you for a long time,
Themba Dlane,’ she said. ‘As your
wife, I’ll love you forever.’
‘Forever.’ He encircled her hand in
both of his. His dark eyes danced
with pure love. ‘I’m going to hold
you to that promise, Mandi.’
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THE🔚🔚
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