Chapter 7 - The Settlement

The divorce took eight months.

Eight months of lawyers and depositions and dividing up a life we'd built together. Eight months of Kagiso trying to apologize, trying to explain, trying to win me back.

I didn't give him an inch.

My attorney was a shark named Samke Ngcobo. She went after everything — the house, the royalties from the songs I'd arranged, half of Kagiso's future earnings, the tour bus, the equipment.

"He committed adultery," Samke said during one particularly brutal mediation session. "And this marriage is dissolved on the grounds of irretrievable breakdown — a breakdown he caused. My client gave up a lucrative career to support his dreams. The court can order forfeiture of patrimonial benefits for exactly this kind of misconduct, and I am going to ask it to."

Kagiso's attorney tried to argue. Samke buried him in evidence.

In the end, I got the house in Bryanston, 60% of the royalties from our last three albums, and a substantial monthly maintenance for the next ten years. Kagiso got to keep his stage name and his guitar.

He looked destroyed when we signed the papers. Older. Broken.

"Amahle," he said as I stood to leave. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I know I don't deserve forgiveness, but—"

"You're right," I interrupted. "You don't deserve forgiveness. You don't deserve me. You don't deserve anything except exactly what you're getting."

"I love you."

"No, you don't. You love the idea of me. You love what I did for you. But you never actually loved me enough to be faithful. To be honest. To treat me like a partner instead of a convenience."

I walked out of the conference room and didn't look back.