Chapter 1: The Spark

 

The first time I saw Sandile, he was standing outside our spaza shop, wiping sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Tall, broad shoulders, a smile too confident for a man carrying a bucket of cement on his head. Yoh, I told myself, this one thinks he’s God’s gift to women. His overalls were streaked with dust and cement, but somehow he wore it like a uniform of pride. I tried to ignore him, pretending I was busy arranging the shelves, but I couldn’t help stealing glances as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, like he was sizing up the place or maybe me.

Sandile: “Eh, sisi, how much for two cold drinks, two loaves of bread, and airtime… Seventy-six rand?”

He called as he stepped inside, the floor crunching under his dusty boots, a slight cloud of cement dust puffing into the air. Before I could answer, he dumped the coins on the counter, all mixed up fives, twos, one-rands tumbling like little stones. I gave him one look and shook my head, frustrated.

Nomusa: “Hai, sis, you expect me to count this mountain of coins while you stand there smiling? You think I’ve got all day?”

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that seemed to roll through the small shop like music. There was no stress in it, no hesitation just confidence. 

Sandile: “I thought beautiful girls like you love counting money. Don’t they say imali iyathanda ukubalwa?”

I rolled my eyes, but inside… yoh, my heart betrayed me. My fingers itched to get to the coins, to prove I could handle this little challenge without faltering. Still, I wasn’t about to let him see that.

 I scooped up the coins, letting them clink in my hand, and without even writing it down, I counted, calculated, and gave him his change before he could even blink.

He whistled low, leaning a little closer, like he wanted to inspect my skill. 

Sandile: “Hai, wena, you didn’t even use a calculator. Sharp-sharp, sisi, your brain is too fast. I should hire you to do my tender forms.”

I laughed, though I tried to hide it behind a shake of my head. A bricklayer talking about tenders? Please. But something about the way he said it, so sure of himself, made me curious. That little spark in his eyes, the way his grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, yoh… I didn’t know then that this dusty man with his cement-stained boots, hands rough from hard work, would one day drag me through heaven and hell, and I’d be powerless to resist.

I was stacking tins of baked beans when I heard the familiar crunch of boots outside the spaza. Yoh, my heart did that annoying little skip again before I even saw who it was.

Sandile: “Eh, sisi,” 

He called as he pushed the door open, dust clinging to his overalls like last time. 

Sandile: “Just came for another cold drink.”

I arched an eyebrow, trying to act calm, like it wasn’t obvious I’d been waiting for him to show up. 

Nomusa: “You’re back? You really love my cold drinks that much, eh?”

 I teased, sliding one from the fridge.

He grinned, leaning a little against the counter. 

Sandile: “You know, a man has to have a reason to come back to the same place. And… well, I might just have one.” 

His eyes twinkled, and I could feel that annoying flutter in my chest again. I shook my head, trying to play it cool. 

Nomusa: “A reason, huh? Let me guess… you just like watching me count coins?”

He laughed, deep and easy, like sunlight over Jozi streets in the morning. 

Sandile: “Maybe… but I also brought something extra this time.”

He pushed a few coins toward me.

Sandile: “Keep the change, sisi. Consider it… appreciation.”

I frowned playfully. 

Nomusa: “Eish, you trying to bribe me now? Haibo, you must be careful with that attitude.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough for me to notice.

Sandile: “I was also thinking… maybe you could give me your brain outside of the counter. Dinner, maybe? I promise I’ll let you count my coins later.”

My mouth went dry for a second, and I quickly cleared my throat. 

Nomusa: “Dinner, eh? You really bold, mfethu. You do know I’m not easy to impress, right?”

Sandile smirked, unapologetic, cocky as ever. 

Sandile: “I’m counting on that, sisi. I like a challenge.”

And just like that, the day got hotter than the Joburg sun outside, and I knew I shouldn’t, but I was already hooked.