Chapter 6 - ONE NIGHT OF BETRAYAL COULD DESTROY TWO BROTHERSZAKHELE
There are mistakes a man makes because he doesn't understand the consequences.
And there are mistakes he makes while knowing exactly how much damage they could cause.
What happened between Zama and me belonged to the second category.
I couldn't pretend otherwise.
I had slept with my brother's wife.
Nothing about her unhappiness changed that fact.
Nothing about Nhlaka's neglect made it right.
And nothing about the loneliness I had been carrying gave me permission to betray my own family.
By Friday afternoon, guilt had settled so deeply inside me that even breathing felt uncomfortable.
Zama sat at my dining table.
She wore ordinary clothes now, and her small suitcase rested beside the door.
Neither of us had spoken much.
Finally, she looked at me.
"Zakes, I need to go home."
I nodded.
"Are you going to tell him?"
"Yes."
I stared at her.
"Are you sure?"
She gave me a sad smile.
"I've spent months waiting for Nhlaka to be honest about our marriage. I can't demand honesty from him while hiding what I did."
I sat opposite her.
"Then I'll tell him with you."
She shook her head.
"I don't want you taking responsibility for my choices."
"I'm taking responsibility for mine."
For a moment, she studied me.
Then she looked away.
"I didn't come here planning for that to happen."
"I know."
"But it happened."
"Yes."
"And I'm not leaving him for you, Zakhele."
The words hurt a little.
Not because I expected a relationship.
But because they made me confront something uncomfortable.
Part of me had enjoyed being wanted.
After losing Hlengiwe, after watching my life become one long series of failures, I had allowed someone else's attention to make me feel important.
That wasn't love.
It was selfishness.
"I understand," I told her.
Zama nodded.
"I need time to figure out who I am without a man deciding my worth."
For the first time that day, I felt something resembling respect for both of us.
Not because we had behaved well.
We hadn't.
But because she was refusing to turn one terrible decision into another.
She picked up her handbag.
Before she reached the door, her phone rang.
The screen displayed Nhlaka's name.
She answered.
"Hello?"
I watched her expression change.
"What do you mean someone came to the office?"
A pause.
"Which documents?"
She turned toward me.
"What company?"
Another pause.
Then she went pale.
"Nhlaka, please tell me you didn't sign anything for Mandla Radebe."
My stomach tightened.
I knew that name.
Radebe represented powerful investors.
He also handled various legal matters for the Makhetha family.
Before things had fallen apart between Hlengiwe and me, I had met him at a business function.
He had seemed charming.
Far too charming, now that I thought about it.
Zama ended the call.
"What happened?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
Instead, she opened her handbag and removed a small flash drive.
"I wasn't going to bring you into this."
"Into what?"
She sat down again.
"I used to manage accounts for Nhlaka's company. Before I stopped working there, I discovered some unusual transactions."
"What kind?"
"Payments for equipment that never appeared in the inventory. Fuel invoices for vehicles that didn't exist. Transfers routed through companies with different names but the same directors."
I frowned.
"Money laundering?"
"Possibly. But that isn't the worst part."
She plugged the drive into my laptop.
Several spreadsheets appeared.
One column contained shipment references.
Another listed destinations.
A third showed authorization codes.
I recognized one location.
The old quarry outside the Makhetha ranch.
"Why would Nhlaka's company be transporting equipment there?"
"That's what I asked him."
"And?"
"He told me to stop interfering."
I scrolled through the documents.
One shipment was scheduled for midnight.
The cargo description read: INDUSTRIAL WATER-DIVERSION EQUIPMENT.
Another document authorized temporary excavation near a protected watercourse.
"This doesn't look legitimate," I said.
"It isn't."
"How do you know?"
"Because the permit number belongs to an entirely different project."
I looked up sharply.
"Are you telling me somebody is using Nhlaka's business to move illegal equipment?"
She nodded.
"And if the project goes wrong, his company will take the blame."
Before I could respond, the front door opened.
Nhlaka stood there.
He looked from Zama to me.
Then toward her suitcase.
His expression hardened.
"So this is where you've been."
Zama slowly stood.
"Nhlaka, we need to talk."
He laughed bitterly.
"I think I already understand."
"Please."
His eyes moved toward the bedroom.
Then back to me.
"Zakhele?"
I couldn't speak.
He stared.
"You wouldn't."
The silence answered him.
For several seconds, he looked as though somebody had struck him across the face.
Then he stepped backward.
"My own brother?"
"Nhlaka—"
"Don't!"
His voice cracked.
"Of all the people in the world, you?"
I lowered my head.
"I'm sorry."
He laughed again.
It was an awful sound.
"Sorry?"
Zama stepped forward.
"Don't put everything on him. I made the choice too."
Nhlaka turned toward her.
"How long?"
"Once," she whispered. "Yesterday morning."
His eyes filled with tears.
I had never seen my brother look so small.
For years, we had competed over everything.
Money.
Success.
Family approval.
Respect.
But standing there, I realized how meaningless those competitions were.
I had destroyed something that might never be repaired.
Nhlaka took off his wedding ring and placed it on the table.
"I need you both out of my sight."
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His face drained of color.
He answered on speaker without seeming to realize it.
A man's voice came through.
"Nhlaka, I assume the equipment is ready for transport."
Nhlaka closed his eyes.
"Not tonight."
The man chuckled.
"I'm afraid that isn't an option."
"Find somebody else."
Silence.
Then the voice became cold.
"Perhaps you need some motivation."
A photograph appeared on Nhlaka's phone.
He turned it toward us.
A young man was tied to a chair.
Blood marked his forehead.
I recognized him immediately.
Motsumi Makhetha.
May you like
The voice returned.
"Move my equipment by midnight, or the youngest Makhetha brother will never see another sunrise."
Related Stories
