Run
889 Words
“And don’t you dare cause a scene,” Ivy hissed into Adam’s ear, her grip on his arm deceptively gentle.
Adam’s jaw tightened. He could feel the heat in his chest rise—rage, betrayal, disbelief.
Why were they doing this to him?
If he’d known this was the price of returning home, he would’ve stayed in London. He would’ve reached out to Nomadlozi from there, far from this madness. Far from this manipulation.
He wouldn’t have walked back into this trap.
Suddenly, Adam tore himself away from the circle, storming out into the open, cutting through gasps and confusion. The crowd parted as he moved, his fury visible with every step. People began to murmur, eyes darting toward him, then toward the smiling Nomafu, still accepting congratulations.
That’s when he saw her.
Nomadlozi.
Walking toward the gate, eyes fixed on her phone, a carefully wrapped gift clutched in one hand. Oblivious. Calm.
Adam froze mid-step. The noise around him faded. All he could see was her.
The woman he wanted. The woman they would never let him have.
Before she could even look up fully, she collided with the tension in the air—then stopped.
Her eyes lifted, confused by the eyes staring at her, the hush that fell over the guests.
Before she could say a word, Adam grabbed her wrist.
> “Adam—wait—”
But he was already pulling her toward the car.
People watched in stunned silence. The whispers began.
> “Isn’t that the other sister?” “Yoh… so he’s been having an affair this whole time?” “At his own birthday party? Hai suka, this is too much…”
Mandla saw it—all of it.
The whispers. The shame. The eyes. The judgment.
His breath quickened. His heart thundered. His pride burned.
And then—he lost it.
Bang!
A shot rang out into the sky.
Then another.
People screamed. Panic exploded.
The Mandla they knew—the calm, measured patriarch—was gone.
> “Fokof! All of you!” he roared, shooting into the air again.
Guests scattered. He didn’t care.
---
Meanwhile, Adam’s car sped down the highway.
The silence inside the car was heavier than the wind rushing outside. Nomadlozi sat stunned, staring at the man beside her.
> “Awu, Adam—what’s going on kanti? Why are you driving like this? Where are we even going?”
He didn’t respond. His knuckles were white, clenched around the steering wheel. His jaw locked tight.
> “They think my life is a toy,” he muttered. “They don’t respect me.”
> “Adam, you’re not making any sense,” Nomadlozi said carefully, her voice soft like she was approaching a wild animal.
> “They made me head of the family,” he said bitterly. “I agreed. I gave them that. And now they want to marry me off to Nomafu like I’m cattle. Like I have no say.”
There was pain in his voice. Real, burning pain.
> “Oh... it's that.” Nomadlozi turned to the window, her voice barely audible.
Her reaction was too casual. It set something off in him.
> “Oh?” Adam snapped. “What do you mean oh? You knew?”
Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes.
The car jolted to a dead stop. Right in the middle of the freeway.
> “Adam!” Nomadlozi screamed, grabbing the dashboard. “Are you crazy?! You can’t stop here!”
She looked around wildly. Cars honked in the distance, some swerving.
> “Pull over! Please!”
Adam didn’t move. He rested his head against the steering wheel and breathed like he was suffocating.
> “Adam!” she yelled, panicked. “This is a freeway! You’re going to get us killed!”
Finally, he looked at her.
Eyes bloodshot. Hollow. Angry. And something else—something dangerous.
> “I knew,” she said quietly. “Okay? I knew. I just… didn’t know that you didn’t.”
Her voice cracked, sharp with frustration.
> “And now what? You’re mad at me? For something I didn’t even do?”
He stared at her like he was searching for a reason not to lose control. His eyes scanned her face—anger, betrayal, longing—all clashing in that gaze.
> “Adam, please…”
Her voice softened again. Her hand trembled in her lap.
But Adam didn’t speak. He leaned in—slowly—his eyes locked on hers.
Their faces drew close. The space between them disappeared. Her breathing hitched.
> “Adam…” she whispered.
But he was already there.
The heat between them was suffocating. Not just lust. Not just longing.
Everything they’d buried—every secret, every ‘what if’, every ache—they were all clawing to the surface now.
His hand cupped her cheek with a kind of desperation, like he’d lose her if he let go.
Her lips parted, uncertain.
Their foreheads touched.
> “You’re the only thing in this world that feels real,” he whispered, voice breaking.
And still… they didn’t kiss.
They just… breathed.
Heavy. Shaky. Close enough to taste each other’s pain.
And in that car, in the middle of a speeding world, time stood still
- Writer
