Chapter 3 - How Long

Themba found me in the venue's green room, tuning my violin.

"Hey," he said softly. "You okay? You seem… off."

Themba Ndlovu had been my husband's manager since the beginning. He'd been Kagiso's best friend since varsity, the guy who'd believed in him when he was playing dive bars in Newtown for beer money. He was also the most genuinely kind person I'd ever met — thoughtful, steady, always making sure everyone was taken care of.

I'd always liked Themba. Trusted him. He'd been the one to help me negotiate my contract, making sure I got fair royalties and creative control. He'd been the one to check in when tour life got overwhelming, to make sure I was eating and sleeping and not burning out.

Now, looking at his concerned dark eyes, I felt something crack in my chest. "I'm fine," I lied.

He sat down next to me. "Amahle. I've known you for six years. You're not fine."

I set down my violin. Looked at him. "Did you know?"

His face went pale. "Know what?"

"About Kagiso and Palesa."

The guilt that flashed across his face was answer enough.

"How long?" My voice was steady. Cold.

"Amahle—"

"How. Long."

He ran a hand through his black hair. "I suspected about two months ago. Confirmed it three weeks ago when I saw them together in Cape Town. I told him to end it. I told him he was being a fucking idiot. I told him—"

"But you didn't tell me."

"I thought he'd come to his senses. I thought — fuck, Amahle, I'm sorry. I should have told you. I just… I didn't want to be the one to blow up your marriage."

I laughed bitterly. "Kagiso already did that."