Chapter 5 - Number Three

CHAPTER 5: NUMBER THREE

NUMBER THREE

Three weeks passed. Three weeks of silence from Sibusiso. Three weeks of Langa being exactly who she needed — consistent, attentive, present. He introduced her to his parents properly. His mother cooked. His father asked about her career with genuine interest. And when Langa drove her home that night, he pulled over on a quiet road outside town and turned to face her.

"Lindiwe." He took her hand. "I'm not good at guessing games. I know what I want. I want to build something with you. Lobola. All of it. The right way."

She looked at his face — serious, certain, that jaw set the way it got when he meant something. Behind him, Middelburg's streetlights stretched out like a runway.

Her heart beat fast. Steady. The kind that felt like the future locking into place.

She said yes.

————

The families met. Lobola paid — not extravagant, but proper. Her mother cried. Langa's father shook her hand with the firm grip of a man who believed his son had chosen well. The system had delivered.

She moved into the house off the R35 — the one she'd first seen as empty rooms and possibilities. Now it had furniture, curtains her mother helped choose, a kitchen that smelled like Sunday lunch. The same kitchen counter where they'd first been together — now she cooked on it, wiped it down after meals, and sometimes, when the light caught it at a certain angle in the late afternoon, she felt a ghost of something she couldn't name.