Chapter 2 - The Open Door

CHAPTER 2: THE OPEN DOOR

Bhekani did not move at first. That was the thing Zama noticed: he gave her enough space to take the words back. The kitchen clock ticked above the fridge. A hadeda screamed somewhere beyond the wall.

"You are upset," he said.

"I am."

"And you still mean it?"

Zama looked at his mouth, then met his eyes. "Yes."

His hand came up slowly, fingers settling against the side of her face. "You were naughty earlier, standing at that bathroom door."

Her cheeks warmed. "I said sorry."

"Not properly."

The tease should have annoyed her. Instead it tugged something loose in her stomach. He waited again. She could have laughed it off. She could have picked up her bag and gone home to cry behind a locked door.

"I am sorry, Daddy," she said, because the word came to her with a shocking ease. "For peeping."

Bhekani's breath changed. "That is what you want to call me?"

Zama nodded. "Only when it is us."

"Then look at me when you say it."

She lifted her face. "Yebo baba."

The kiss was nothing like Wanda's. Bhekani kissed her as if there were no race to win, one broad hand steady at her waist, the other holding her jaw gently until she stopped trying to guess what he wanted. His beard brushed her cheek. Sandalwood, smoke and the faint heat of chilli from the supper pot filled her head. When his tongue touched hers, Zama made a helpless sound into his mouth and felt him smile.

"Good girl," he murmured. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

"I do not want you to stop."

"Say it clearly."

"I want this. I want you."