Chapter 40: A Brother's Concern

 

Two days after my conversation with Tshepo, my phone buzzed with a message from him.

Tshepo: I need to see you. Can you send me your address?

I raised an eyebrow. Tshepo had never asked for my address before. In fact, he had never visited me in Johannesburg. Our relationship had always been close, but he had his own life, his own family.

I sent him my address, along with directions. He replied immediately.

Tshepo: I'll be there tomorrow morning.

The next day, I heard a knock at my door. I opened it to find Tshepo standing there, a small bag slung over his shoulder.

"Tshepo!" I exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. "What are you doing here?"

He hugged me back, then pulled away. "I need to talk to you. Properly. Not over the phone."

I led him inside and made him tea. We sat on the couch, and I looked at him expectantly.

"Tshepo, what's going on? Is everything okay at home?"

He nodded. "Everything is fine. Well, as fine as it can be with Ntate and Mme planning to destroy your relationship."

I winced. "That bad?"

"Worse than you think," he said. "They are serious, Mapaseka. Palesa and auntie is helping them. They want to find something—anything—to break you and Qondanisa apart."

I felt my stomach drop. "But there is nothing. Qondanisa is a good man."

"I know," Tshepo said. "That is why I am here. I need to meet him. I need to see for myself who this man is."

I blinked. "You want to meet Qondanisa?"

"Mapaseka, I have not spent enough time with you," he said, his voice full of regret. "The last time you were engaged, I was not there for you. I did not check on you. I did not meet the man. And when he broke your heart, I was not there to pick up the pieces."

I looked away, memories flooding back. The last engagement had been a disaster. The man had been charming, handsome, and completely dishonest. 

I had been devastated. I had sworn off men for years.

Until Qondanisa.

"I do not want to see you hurt again," Tshepo continued. "You are my sister. I should have been there for you before. But I was busy with my own life, my own family. I was selfish."

"Tshepo, you were not selfish—"

"Yes, I was," he interrupted. "And I am sorry. But I am here now. I want to meet this man who has captured your heart. I want to know if he is worthy of you."

I felt tears prick my eyes. "You would do that for me?"

"I would do anything for you," he said. "You are my sister. I love you."

I reached out and took his hand. "Thank you, Tshepo. Thank you for being here."

"I told no one about this," he said. "Not even Mme, Ntate, or Palesa.”

Only my wife knows. I did not want them to know I was coming to see you. They would try to stop me."

"They would," I agreed.

"So," he said, leaning back, "tell me about him. Everything. I want to know the man who has made my sister smile again."

I smiled and began to tell him everything—how I met Qondanisa, how we started dating, how he took me to Durban to meet his mother, how she welcomed me like a daughter, and the photo of his grandmother who looked just like me.

Tshepo listened intently, nodding and asking questions.

"His mother did your hair?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes," I said, laughing. "She spent the whole morning on it. She said she always wanted a daughter."

"She sounds like a good woman."

"She is," I said. "And Qondanisa is a good man. He works hard. He respects his family and he loves me. He really loves me, Tshepo."

Tshepo studied my face for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"I can see it," he said. "When you talk about him, your eyes light up. You look like the Mapaseka I remember—the happy one, the one who believed in love."

"I stopped believing for a long time," I admitted. "After the last engagement, I thought I would never trust anyone again. But Qondanisa... he changed everything."

"Then I want to meet him," Tshepo said firmly. "I want to see the man who brought my sister back to life."

I called Qondanisa that evening.

"Tshepo is here," I said. "He wants to meet you."

There was a pause. Then Qondanisa spoke, his voice warm. "Your brother wants to meet me?"

"Yes," I said. "He drove all the way from Kgarankuwa to see me. He told me he should have been there for me before. He wants to make sure you are a good man."

"I understand," Qondanisa said. "I would do the same for my sister. When can I meet him?"

"Tomorrow," I said. "I will bring him to your house. Is that okay?"

"Of course," he said. "I will prepare something special. I want to make a good impression."

I laughed. "You already have a good impression. Tshepo is on your side. He left the house because they were planning to break us apart."

"He is a good brother," Qondanisa said. "I will honour him. I will show him that I am worthy of you."

"I know you will," I said.

That night, Tshepo slept in my guest room. Before we went to bed, he came to sit with me.

"Mapaseka," he said, "I have not seen you this happy in years. Thank you for letting me be part of this."

"Thank you for coming," I said. "It means more than you know."

He nodded. "Tomorrow, I will meet this man. And I will give him my blessing—if he deserves it."

"He deserves it," I said confidently.

"We will see," Tshepo said with a smile.