My influencer sister
941 Words
Nomadlozi could barely see the screen when she dialed the man.
Her fingers were stiff. Her phone slipped twice from her soaked palms before she finally hit the call button.
“Send me your location. Right now,” Adam said, panic already thick in his throat.
He wasn’t far from the hotel. A part of him had been uneasy all evening. He knew Nomafu wouldn’t sit back quietly. Not when her pride was bruised.
Nomadlozi sat on the curb, dripping wet, her dress clinging to her thick arms, her belly, the curve of her back. Ice water soaked through her bra and underwear. Her skin stung from the cold. Her thighs stuck together. She clutched her bag like a shield and tried to breathe.
A pair of girls walked past and stared. One of them giggled under her breath.
"Maybe I deserve this."
That thought snuck in like a blade between her ribs.
You betrayed your sister. You opened your legs and called it love. Now look at you. No dignity. No loyalty. No beauty.
A tear slipped down her cheek. It wasn’t the cold that made her shiver anymore.
“Dlo!”
Adam’s voice rang out. Then he was there—kneeling beside her. She didn’t want him to see her like this.
He saw everything.
Her trembling lips. Her soaked dress. Her exposed thighs. Her shame.
She braced herself for the judgment in his eyes.
But it never came.
Adam didn’t speak. He just pulled her into his chest and held her. Tight. Like she was precious.
“Let’s get you home,” he whispered, brushing wet strands from her face.
“No,” she croaked, her voice cracking. “Not home.”
---
At the Radebe mansion...
Nomafu was filing her nails when her phone buzzed.
“Isn’t this your sis?”
She opened the video.
Nomadlozi, sitting on the hotel floor, drenched, disoriented, exposed.
Nomafu played it again. Zoomed in. Cropped. Edited.
Anonymous account. Post.
Then she lay back in bed, smiling like she’d just won a prize.
---
Back at the car…
The drive was quiet. Tense.
Adam didn’t press her. He could see she was unraveling.
When he parked behind the hotel, he turned to her slowly.
“Take off the dress,” he said, voice calm but unblinking.
Nomadlozi blinked, stunned. “What?”
“It’s freezing. Take it off.”
Her mind spun. He’s going to see. All of it. The rolls. The thighs. The stretchmarks. The soft belly that never sits flat.
She felt herself freeze.
“Nomadlozi,” he said again, softer now. “Please.”
Her hands moved before her mind could fight it. She peeled the soaked dress off her body, every inch exposed to the warm light in the back seat.
She sat in her underwear, feeling like she was naked on a stage. She wrapped her arms around herself without even realizing it.
Adam reached for the hoodie from the backseat and draped it over her. Then he leaned closer.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, as if it were the most normal, obvious thing in the world.
Her throat tightened. “Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.”
His hands didn’t grope. They held. His fingers grazed her cheek, then the soft part of her arm.
“I know what people say. What you might hear in your head,” he added, as if reading her thoughts. “But it’s all noise. I see you.”
The shame that had been pulsing through her like electricity suddenly softened. It didn’t disappear. But it loosened.
---
At the hotel...
Adam undressed her slowly in the bathroom. She let him. Not because she felt sexy—but because she was too tired to keep fighting herself.
He didn’t rush.
He ran the bath, warmed the water, helped her step in.
He washed her body like it was sacred. He took time with her back. Her belly. The thighs she always covered. The arms she tried to shrink. She kept waiting for disgust in his eyes, a flicker of hesitation.
There was none.
After the bath, he dried her with a soft towel and massaged lotion into her skin. She sat on the edge of the bed, still quiet, still heavy with feeling.
“Should I order food?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m just tired.”
He tucked her in. Sat beside her and rested his hand on her stomach.
“Adam,” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I forgot to pay the bill.”
“I’ve got it. First thing in the morning.”
She nodded slowly and closed her eyes.
---
The next morning…
The sunlight streaming in was soft and kind.
Breakfast sat on the bedside table, still warm. Her clean clothes had been neatly folded on the couch. She stretched out slowly, her body still sore but comforted.
“Baby?” she called out.
“Coming,” Adam’s voice echoed from the bathroom.
She walked toward the steam. Looked at herself in the mirror. Still swollen-eyed. Still thick. Still her.
She slipped off the robe and stepped into the bathroom.
Later, they walked out together, laughing quietly, wrapped in towels, the weight of last night still lingering—but lighter.
“Thank you,” she whispered, pecking his lips.
“For what? Doing my job?” he teased, brushing her off.
She smiled anyway. “Still, A. You showed up.”
He didn’t know what to say. So he hugged her tightly, burying his face in her neck.
“I’ll make it feel better,” he whispered into her skin.
- Writer
