DANGEROUS AFFAIR

New Beginning

CHAPTER 1

NARRATED

MANQOBA NCUKANA

Manqoba was sitting in his office, totally absorbed in his laptop screen, his brows furrowed in concentration. Belinda walked in, carrying files in her hand, and closed the door behind her with a soft click. A warm smile spread across her face as she made her way towards him, her heels clicking on the floor. Manqoba's gaze drifted away from the screen, and he looked up at her approach, his expression softening.

She placed the files on the table, her eyes locked on his.

Belinda: How was your trip?

Manqoba's face lit up with a brief smile.

Manqoba: It was amazing.

His attention then shifted to the files.

Manqoba: What are those files for?

Belinda glanced at them, then back at him, a playful glance in her eye. She bit her lower lip, a subtle seductive gesture.

Belinda: Let's not focus on the file, I miss you. How about we do this.

She said that taking off her panties, Manqoba turned his chair, and Belinda took the invitation, positioning herself on his lap. She leaned in, her hands on the back of his head, and gently pecked his lips. He responded with equal enthusiasm, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer. The tension between them was electric, and it was clear that work wasn't on their minds anymore. As they kissed, the world around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the moment. Belinda's hands moved from his head to his shoulders, her fingers tracing the contours of his muscles. Manqoba's hands roamed freely, exploring the curves of her body. The atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming charged with anticipation.

She unbuckled his pants, slide her hand inside his underwear and he moans feeling her soft hands on his d**k. She rubbed her entrance and sat on top of it. He directed his hands on her ass squeezing it. She moaned as she started grinding on top of him.

Belinda: Ohh f**k manqoba.

She said that feeling her walls crushing down, her body responding to what his d**k was doing inside her. She couldn't explain what she was feeling, but she was enjoying every second of it.

They both cummed and Belinda rested her forehead on Manqoba's chest, breathing heavily from their intimate moment. She could feel his heartbeat against her skin, and for a fleeting second, she let herself imagine that he felt the same rush of emotions she did. But as she slowly got off his lap and began to fix her dress, the illusion was shattered. Manqoba, meanwhile, was already adjusting his clothes, his expression neutral, like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. He looked up at her .

Manqoba: Are you still on birth control?

Belinda met his gaze, trying to read something – anything – in his eyes. But they were like a mask, revealing nothing. She nodded silently, and he seemed satisfied with that. The sudden shift in topic was jarring.

Belinda: You know it's that time of internship.

She said, trying to sound professional despite the lingering intimacy.

Belinda: So, when are we opening the applications?

Manqoba's expression turned businesslike.

Manqoba: You can open them today. Our website is still available, right?

Belinda nodded, her mind racing to catch up with the sudden change in tone.

Manqoba: Cool.

He said, his eyes already drifting back to the laptop.

Manqoba: The closing date is Friday. This year, we won't make it a month. I don't want to face what we faced last year.

Belinda nodded, though she knew he wasn't looking at her anymore. She turned to walk out, feeling a familiar ache in her chest. As she reached the door, she glanced back at Manqoba, and the pang intensified. He was already absorbed in his work, oblivious to her lingering gaze. To him, everything they did was just s*x, no strings attached – a transaction, nothing more. And it hurt her, because she couldn't help but feel like she was giving away pieces of herself, one kiss at a time. With a quiet exit, she left the office, the weight of her emotions settling heavier with each step.

***

BUHLEBENDALO BHENGU

Buhlebendalo and Lumko strolled out of the shops, Kotas in hand, chatting about their day. Lumko, always the joker, was making Buhle laugh with some silly story or joke, but Buhle's usual vibrant energy was missing, and Lumko noticed. As they walked, Lumko turned to Buhle.

Lumko; Are you okay? You've been quiet since we left your house.

Buhle sighed, the weight of her worries visible on her face.

Buhle: I'm worried about my future.

She confessed.

Buhle: There's no university that's replied to me yet, and I don't know how I'm going to pay for my fees if I get accepted. It's like the world is closing in on me.

Lumko nodded understandingly.

Lumko: I get you, Buhle. But just have faith, okay? You passed more than most of us. Maybe something will come up soon.

He offered a reassuring smile, but Buhle couldn't shake off the uncertainty.

Buhle: You know how hard it is nowadays to further your studies if you're poor.

She said, her voice tinged with frustration. The harsh reality hung in the air, and for a moment, they just walked in silence.

Lumko broke the silence, his tone lighter.

Lumko: I'm leaving next month, my father's paying for my fees at some private college.

Buhle's face lit up with genuine excitement, and she smiled.

Buhle: That's wonderful, Lumko! I wish you all the best. But please, stay away from boys when you get there.

Lumko giggled, a playful glink in his eye.

Lumko: You know how much I love boys, so I don't promise you that.

Buhle chuckled, and they shared a laugh. The tension dissipated, if only for a moment. Just then, Lumko's phone beeped, and he checked the message. His expression shifted, and he looked up at Buhle.

Lumko: It's my cousin.

He said, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice.

Lumko: He's telling me that there's an internship opening at his workplace, a huge company in Johannesburg. Buhle, you should apply! You might be lucky and get a job.

Buhle chuckled skeptically.

Buhle: How am I supposed to go to Johannesburg? I don't have a cent with me.

Lumko's face lit up with determination.

Lumko: Buhle, this might be the best opportunity you've been waiting for your whole life. Plus, we'll be together and can see each other every day.

Buhle's doubts lingered, and she voiced them.

Buhle: I hear you, but I don't have money for transport or a place to stay. Johannesburg is a very dangerous place.

Lumko's grin grew wider.

Lumko: How about we leave together? Since the internship applications are closing on Friday, we can leave on Wednesday.

Buhle's eyes widened, torn between hope and uncertainty.

Buhle: What if they don't take me?

Lumko's confidence was infectious.

Lumko: You want to study Bcom, so there's no company that won't take you unless they're fools. Let's go apply for that internship for you, Buhle. This could be it – the break you've been waiting for.

Buhle's expression turned thoughtful, weighing her options. Lumko's words had sparked a glimmer of hope, and she couldn't ignore it.

Buhle: Let's do it.

She said finally, a small smile creeping onto her face. Lumko whooped, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

Lumko: That's the spirit, Buhle! We're gonna make this happen.

****NOMALANGA NCUKANA

Nomalanga and her friends lounged by the pool, sunglasses perched on their noses as they basked in the warm sun. The sound of gentle lapping of water against the pool's edge and the occasional chirp of a bird created a serene atmosphere. Nomalanga was busy snapping pictures and recording videos for her i********:, champagne glass within arm's reach. The bubbly drink seemed to be flowing as freely as their conversation.

Chantelle, one of her friends, curious about Nomalanga's glamorous life.

Chantelle: How does your husband feel about you being a social media influencer?

Nomalanga chuckled, a carefree sound.

Nomalanga: He doesn't care as long as it doesn't involve him.

The group erupted into knowing laughter, and Chantelle chimed in.

Chantelle: Lucky you, if it was someone else, you'd be in the kitchen cooking with no time for social media.

Nomalanga's response was immediate and assertive.

Nomalanga: Not me. I don't do anything except keeping my followers happy.

Paige, who had been quietly observing the conversation, spoke up, her voice tinged with envy.

Paige: I envy you, girl. You're living the life of my dreams.

Nomalanga's response was kind, but before she could say more, Chantelle interrupted

Chantelle: You don't know, Paige's husband wants her to give him kids and quit modeling.?

Nomalanga's reaction was quick. She whipped off her sunglasses, sat up straight, and fixed her gaze on Paige.

Nomalanga: I hope you told him that you can't do that?

Her voice was l laced with concern and solidarity.

Nomalanga: Chommie, kids change everything. Men won't understand because it's not them who get pregnant and carry the baby for nine months. You don't want to ruin that body, do you? Think about it, mngani.

Paige swallowed, looking torn, and muttered.

Paige: You're right.

Chantelle, always one to stir the pot.

Chantelle: So you're also not going to give Manqoba a baby?

Nomalanga's response was clear.

Nomalanga: Never. I'd rather pay for a surrogate than carry a child myself. This body is not for carrying brats.

The group burst into laughter, their amusement infectious. Unknown to them, Kayise, Manqoba's mom, had been listening to their conversation from a distance. She shook her head, a mix of disappointment and concern etched on her face, and walked away, lost in thought. The laughter and chatter by the pool continued, oblivious to the ripples of tension that had just been created.

****

MANQOBA NCUKANA

Manqoba walked into the house, the weight of the day's events evident on his tired face. He dropped his car keys and laptop bag onto the table, the soft thud a stark contrast to the exhaustion that seemed to cling to him. He loosened his tie, the constricting knot around his neck suddenly feeling suffocating, and made his way to the kitchen. The aroma of his favorite dish wafted through the air, a faint glimmer of comfort in an otherwise draining day.

His mom, Kayise, was busy at the stove, her hands moving deftly as she cooked. Manqoba's eyes softened as he watched her; she was the epitome of warmth and love. He leaned in, kissed her cheeks, and opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water. The cold liquid soothed his parched throat, and he let out a quiet sigh.

Kayise: How was your day at work?

Manqoba replied, his voice l laced with fatigue.

Manqoba : Exhausting. And how was yours?

A gentle smile played on Kayise's lips as she responded.

Kayise: It was great. I'm making your favorite.

She didn't need to say more; Manqoba knew she was referring to the chicken feet simmering on the stove, and a small spark of gratitude ignited within him.

Manqoba: Thank you, mom.

He said, meaning it.

Manqoba: Let me go freshen up first.

Kayise nodded, her eyes following him as he turned to leave. Just as he was about to walk away, she spoke up, her voice measured.

Kayise: Before you leave, son... have you thought about having children with Nomalanga? I'm asking because you've been married for a long time, and I'm getting old.

Manqoba's expression didn't change, but internally, he felt a jolt of unease. He had never seriously considered having children with Nomalanga; their marriage was more of a business arrangement, a partnership of sorts, devoid of the emotional connection he craved. He hesitated, unsure of how to respond, before settling on a half-truth.

Manqoba: I did think about it, but we're both busy people, so maybe next year.

Kayise nodded, her eyes seeming to hold a knowing glink, but she let it drop. Manqoba took the reprieve, making his way upstairs, the weight of his thoughts heavier than when he'd walked in.

***

Manqoba lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the darkness seemed to press down on him. Nomalanga was fast asleep beside him, her gentle breathing a reminder of her presence, but it brought him no comfort. He couldn't sleep, his mind racing with thoughts and emotions he couldn't shake. Tired of tossing and turning, he carefully got out of bed, trying not to disturb his wife.

He walked out of the room, the cool night air a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere of his marriage. He made his way to the balcony, the stars twinkling above him like diamonds scattered across the velvet sky. The cold breeze hit his face, a refreshing change from the numbness that had settled in his heart.

As he stood there, lost in the vastness of the night, his thoughts turned inward. He thought about his marriage, about the life he was living, and the emptiness that seemed to grow with each passing day. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt loved, truly loved, or had loved someone with his whole heart. The only people who came close were his mom and siblings, but even that love was different, it was the kind of love that was pure and unconditional.

He thought about how he had gotten married, about the arrangements and expectations, and how he had convinced himself that he could make it work. He had thought that with time, he would learn to love Nomalanga, that he would grow to care for her, but it hadn't happened. He didn't feel anything for her, not even a spark of affection. It was as if he was living a lie, pretending to be a husband, a partner, when in reality, he was just going through the motions.

The weight of his responsibilities, the pressure of his family's expectations, and the fear of hurting those he cared about kept him trapped. He felt like he was stuck, unable to move forward or backward, just existing in a state of limbo. The stars above seemed to mock him, their light a reminder of the happiness he didn't have.

Manqoba sighed, the cold air filling his lungs, and leaned against the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He wondered what the future held, if there was a way out of this emptiness, or if he was doomed to live a life of quiet desperation. The night seemed to stretch on forever, and for a moment, he forgot about the world, about his name, and the life he was living, lost in the vastness of his thoughts.

****

BUHLEBENDALO BHENGU

Buhle's peaceful sleep was interrupted by the shrill ring of her phone, jarring her awake. She groggily reached for it, her eyes squinting as she tried to focus on the screen. She picked up, her voice thick with sleep, and Lumko's excited voice burst through the other end.

Lumko: Baby girl, I have good news for you.

He exclaimed, his tone infectious. Buhle's eyes snapped open, and she sat up straight, suddenly wide awake.

Lumko: Your application at Ncukana's company has been accepted.

Lumko announced, his words electrifying the air. Buhle's eyes widened in disbelief, her sleepiness evaporating in an instant.

Buhle: Are you serious?

She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Lumko's response was immediate and reassuring.

Lumko: I'll never lie about that. So get ready, girl, we're going to Johannesburg.

His excitement was palpable, and Buhle felt it coursing through her veins. Lumko hung up, leaving Buhle sitting on her bed, her mind racing. She couldn't believe it – this was the break she'd been waiting for. She stared blankly at the wall, her thoughts tumbling over each other. Johannesburg, here she comes. The internship, the opportunity, the chance to start building her future – it was all sinking in, and Buhle felt a rush of exhilaration.

She tossed off her covers, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and let out a whoop, the news finally hitting her like a tidal wave. She was going to Johannesburg. She was going to make it happen. Buhle's heart was racing, her palms were sweating, and she couldn't wipe the grin off her face. She felt alive, energized, and ready to take on the world.