FROM SPARKS TO STORMS

CHAPTER 10: TRUTH UNFOLD.

I hesitated, staring at my phone like it was poison. My thumb hovered over the screen, but before I could tap, Olwethu leaned closer.

“Open it,” she whispered. “Let’s see what lies she’s about to spin.”

With shaky fingers, I unlocked it. The message glowed back at me:

> Hey girl, can we talk? I feel like you misunderstood me earlier. I didn’t mean for things to come out like that. You’re still my friend, and I don’t want us to lose what we had over a guy.

I read it out loud, my voice breaking. Lelethu scoffed so loud people passing by turned to look.

“Misunderstood? She literally admitted she knew and even bragged about it! This girl has nerve.”

Olwethu shook her head in disbelief. “She’s not even sorry, Amanda. She’s trying to gaslight you, make it seem like you’re the problem. Don’t fall for it.”

But deep inside, my heart twisted. Memories of sleepovers, secrets shared, and late-night phone calls with Sisipho rushed through me. The good times clashed with the betrayal until it all felt like a lie.

I typed back slowly, my fingers trembling:

> Friends don’t do what you did. You didn’t just betray me—you set me up. Don’t text me again.

I hit send before I could change my mind. My chest tightened as the message delivered, and I quickly blocked her number.

For the first time that day, I felt something like… relief.

Lelethu put her arm around me. “Good. Now focus on yourself, Amanda. No more fake friends and no more toxic boys. Just us, your real sisters.”

I smiled weakly, tears still clinging to my lashes. “Yeah. Sisters.”

But even as we sat there, I couldn’t ignore the nagging question in the back of my mind—what if Sisipho wasn’t done? What if this wasn’t the end of her schemes?

And deep down, I knew… it wasn’t.

Sunday came with a heavy sky. The kind where the sun peeked out but hid behind the clouds too quickly, as if even the weather wasn’t sure what it wanted to be. That’s how I felt—half-bright, half-broken.

I tried to keep busy. I helped my mom with laundry, cleaned my room twice, and even read over my debate notes again, but no matter what I did, my phone kept catching my eye. It buzzed on the table every few minutes, Lwando still flooding me with messages.

> Amanda, please hear me out.

It’s not what you think.

I messed up, but I can’t lose you.

Please, can we meet today?

The audacity. After everything, he still thought he had the right to demand my attention.

Olwethu and Lelethu came over later in the afternoon, carrying snacks like they already knew I wouldn’t have eaten properly. The three of us sat in my room, the smell of popcorn filling the air, but the mood was heavier than it should’ve been.

“Has he stopped texting?” Olwethu asked, nodding at my phone.

I shook my head and passed it to her. She scrolled through the messages, her lips tightening. “He’s desperate.”

“Desperate doesn’t mean he’s sorry,” Lelethu cut in, rolling her eyes. “He wants what’s comfortable. You. Not because he values you, but because he knows losing you means losing the one person who actually cared.”

Her words stabbed me, but they were true.

I sighed, pressing my head into a pillow. “He wants to meet. Part of me… wants to go. To look him in the eye and hear him explain. Not because I believe him, but because I need to hear it from him.”

Olwethu put her hand on mine. “And what if he spins lies? What if he hurts you again?”

“I won’t go alone,” I said firmly. “If I do this, you both are coming with me.”

They exchanged a look—half worried, half protective—and nodded.

Lelethu smirked. “Fine. But if he tries anything stupid, I’ll be the first to throw my drink in his face.”

For the first time that day, I laughed, even if it was short and shaky. “Deal.”

But deep inside, I knew tomorrow wasn’t going to be easy. Meeting him might give me closure… or it might rip me apart all over again.

The afternoon dragged on slower than I expected. Even with my friends around, there was a heaviness I couldn’t shake. Every time my phone buzzed, I felt my stomach twist. Part of me wanted to block Lwando altogether, but another part—the part that still wanted answers—couldn’t bring itself to do it.

Later, when Olwethu and Lelethu went home, the silence in my room felt louder than ever. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind running circles. How could Sisipho, someone I called sister, stab me in the back like that? And Lwando… choosing her setup over me?

I grabbed my journal, hoping writing would calm me, but the only thing that came out was anger. My pen tore through the paper as I scribbled:

> I hate betrayal. I hate liars. I hate pretending everything is fine when my heart feels crushed. But I’ll face him. I’ll face both of them if I have to. I won’t let this break me.

Just then, another message popped up.

> Amanda, I’ll wait for you by the corner café at 4 p.m. Please come. Just give me a chance to explain.

I stared at it, biting my lip. The café was only a ten-minute walk away. He was bold, assuming I’d show up.

I wanted to ignore him. But my chest tightened at the thought of not going, of letting all these questions eat me alive.

At around 3:30, I texted Olwethu and Lelethu:

> He wants to meet. At the café. I’m going.

Their replies came instantly.

Olwethu: Wait for us. We’re coming with you.

Lelethu: And don’t you dare talk to him until we get there!

I smiled weakly at my screen. At least I wasn’t walking into this storm alone.

As I slipped on my sneakers and grabbed my hoodie, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My eyes looked tired, but determined.

“Time to face the fire,” I whispered to myself.

By 3:45 I stepped out of the house, hoodie pulled tight, phone clutched in my hand. The streets were quiet, only a few kids playing soccer by the corner. My heart raced with every step, but I kept reminding myself—I wasn’t going alone.

Olwethu and Lelethu appeared at the end of the street, waving me over. The relief that washed over me almost made me cry again.

“You ready?” Lelethu asked, squeezing my hand gently.

“Not really,” I admitted, forcing a laugh. “But I need to hear him out… even if it hurts.”

Olwethu narrowed her eyes. “Just remember, Amanda, you don’t owe him forgiveness. You’re going there for your closure, not his comfort.”

We started walking together, side by side, the breeze carrying the faint smell of roasted corn from a street vendor nearby. None of us spoke for a while. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, like each of us was lost in our own thoughts.

As we approached the café street, my phone buzzed again.

> I’m already here. Sitting outside. Don’t keep me waiting, please.

My chest tightened. I typed nothing back.

Instead, I slipped the phone in my pocket and whispered, “This is it.”

The café sign was visible now, glowing faintly under the afternoon sun. And right there, just as he said, Lwando sat at one of the outdoor tables, head bowed, scrolling through his phone.

Lelethu muttered, “You know, we can still turn back.”

I shook my head slowly. “No. I need to do this.”

The three of us walked closer, my heart thudding louder with each step.

As we neared the table, Lwando finally looked up. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of us. I could see a flicker of something—guilt? regret?—but I pushed it aside, focusing on the reason I came.

“Hey,” he said softly, standing up.

I nodded, words catching in my throat. “Hi.”

Lelethu and Olwethu hung back a little, giving us space but still close enough to step in if I needed them. I noticed how protective they were, and it made me feel… stronger.

“Sit,” Lwando gestured to the chair across from him. His voice was calm, almost too calm, and I wondered if he rehearsed this.

I hesitated, my hand brushing against the edge of the table, then sank into the chair, keeping my gaze steady.

“Look,” he started, fumbling with his words, “I—”

I held up a hand. “I don’t want excuses. I just… I need to understand. Why?”

Lwando swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “Amanda… I messed up. I know that. And I’ve been stupid, and I—”

I cut him off, voice firmer than I expected. “I don’t need apologies. I need truth. The whole truth. No sugarcoating. No dodging.”

He nodded, swallowing again. “Okay… okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

I felt the weight of the moment press down, my chest tightening. This was it—the answers I’d been chasing, the closure I’d been craving. And no matter what came next… I was ready to face it.

Lwando took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as if that alone could steady him. “Amanda… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he began, his voice low, almost trembling.

I folded my arms, leaning back slightly. “Start from the beginning. Don’t skip anything.”

He nodded, eyes darting to the ground before meeting mine again. “It started with… Siphokuhle. I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear. But I got caught up… I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong. And then… with Olwethu and Lelethu—I didn’t plan it. It just happened. I didn’t know how to fix it, so I… I ran.”

I felt a cold knot tighten in my stomach. Every word was like a punch, but I forced myself to stay still, to listen. “So all this time… you were lying?”

He flinched. “Yes. I lied. I avoided you. I—Amanda, I never stopped thinking about you, but I was scared of facing my own mistakes. And when you found out… I didn’t know how to face you. So I… disappeared.”

I stared at him, the hurt bubbling up like a storm inside me. “Do you even understand how that felt? Waking up every day wondering if you even cared? Wondering if I was the only one who believed in us?”

He swallowed hard, voice barely above a whisper. “I do… I do now. I see it, Amanda. I see how much I messed up, how much I hurt you. And I can’t take it back, but I needed you to hear it from me. I needed you to know it wasn’t… never about you.”

The words hung between us, heavy and raw. I could feel my eyes prickling, but I blinked them back. Closure wasn’t about crying—it was about understanding.

Lelethu and Olwethu stayed silent behind me, their presence a quiet shield, letting me process everything.

I finally exhaled, slow and steady. “Why now? Why tell me this now?”

“Because… I can’t keep hiding. I need to face what I did. I need to be honest, even if you never forgive me.”

A tense silence settled. I studied him, the boy I thought I knew, and the man who had made me question everything. The hurt was real, but so was this moment. And for the first time in weeks, I felt a strange calm.

“Okay,” I said finally, my voice soft but steady. “I hear you. That’s… all I needed.”

His shoulders sagged, relief flickering across his face. “That’s… good. Really good. Thank you, Amanda.”

I stood up slowly, feeling the weight lift a little. “Don’t thank me. Just… remember this. Learn from it.”

Olwethu and Lelethu flanked me immediately, guiding me gently away. I cast one last glance at Lwando. His eyes held apology, regret, and… maybe hope. But hope wasn’t mine to give anymore.

The afternoon sun felt warmer on my skin as we walked away. The streets were still quiet, the faint smell of roasted corn lingering. But inside me, a storm had passed, leaving a strange, freeing calm in its place.

I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but I knew one thing for certain: I had my closure. And for now… that was enough.