Chapter 39
Zioh
I had sunk into the bathtub for minutes, but it didn’t help. Everything still spun around, stealing the air from my lungs.
The mess in the UK and here.
All they ever wanted was to hurt me, mislead me, again and again. I no longer knew who I could trust. They were eating me alive, slowly, until there’d be nothing left. I wanted to scream at them, I’m so fucking tired! To make them shut up, stop, and leave me in peace after these long years.
Don’t forget, she was the fuse. Please. She stabbed you in the back, broke you apart. Please! She was a whore—
I can’t do this anymore.
Even after years, it lingered. They were swarming behind my skull, multiplying and settling in, creating a comfortable home they had no intention of leaving. Even after years, they took pleasure in tormenting me.
I shouldn’t have met her. I should’ve just greeted her this afternoon and walked away, not kissed her, touched her, or asked her to meet. Because…
She was a disease in my brain, and I was the same to her. But it tore open the truth in me that every part of me ached for her. That fact crept back to the surface, and I gave in.
My body moved as if it had a mind of its own when I was with her. I became a selfish bastard, dragging her down into my hell and darkness, but I couldn’t stop. Deep down, I knew she was the only cure.
And I kept wrecking her with that.
From the start, it was already chaos, shattered beyond repair because the one who was broken was you. And Tshabina was the cause. I couldn’t—Wake up, Zioh. Please…
I didn’t know anymore…
What I felt, what was true, what dominated me most, and I really wanted to smash my head against something. “No—”
Her lips, beneath mine, devoured me, and my ears caught her whimpers. “W-wait, Zi, please—” She trembled beneath my hands. Her palms pressed against my chest and shoulders. Yet something else steered me; I couldn’t stop. I was terrified to look at her.
My heart screamed from the depths. It tried to slap me awake, telling me I hurt her, but I couldn’t. It was pitch-black, I couldn’t see anything, and I couldn’t see a way out.
How did I become like this? Why wouldn’t they leave me alone? Why did they always choke me—
I only wanted to bring her here and spend time with her as we did in the past. Do whatever she fancied: watch films, cook for her, listen to her stories, play Monopoly? Even if all she wanted was to dance to a song.
I’d do anything, as long as I was with her.
I’d managed to keep it under control—or so I believed. But with the slightest spark, my defects won.
She hid me from Tsabinu.
She was ashamed of me. Just like him.
And what she had on her—
I froze. A sob pierced the silence. With the courage I had left, I opened my eyes, pulling my lips away from hers.
There she was, her cheeks wet, her eyes red, staring straight at me. “I said stop!” she shouted.
Are you pleased? When Sophie cried, I felt elated, because she deserved it—
Once again, I’d managed to hurt her. “I’m begging you to stop, Zi!” Her raspy voice trembled.
I shook my head. Why? Why was it so damn hard to stop? Because it couldn’t. I’d tried, but why did I always fail? Because your hatred and pain outweigh your love.
No. You wouldn’t forget, no, no, no!
She sobbed. “You scared me.”
I flinched. How many slashes would I have to carve into my body for everything I’d done to her?
You knew the answer. Do it!
She kept sobbing beneath me. “I told you to stop!”
I failed, Tshabina. I couldn’t keep my promise. I was no longer him.
Your hero had fallen, baby.
I should never have promised you anything that night, or ever. If I hadn’t, it would’ve been easier for you to walk away, never look back, hate me, and live happily.
“What happened to you, Zi?” she asked, her sobs easing, but her voice still breaking.
I went silent, my gaze lingering on her for a long time as she trembled before me. I stared, trying to tell her with my eyes everything I couldn’t say: I’m so sorry. Her eyes kept searching mine, desperate for an answer.
I let out a broken breath, my vision blurring as my eyes quivered. Slowly, I lowered my head, resting my forehead against hers. My trembling fingers traced the curve of her cheek, lingering there as if she were made of glass.
My vision was blurry. “I’m s-so sorry… I—”
Our eyelashes brushed, our breath brushing against each other’s skin. I swallowed hard, gazing deep into her. “I never meant—” My voice caught in my throat. “… I… I’m so sorry, baby.” It wasn’t only her cheeks that were wet, not only her eyes that were red. Mine were too.
“In my life, I never intended to hurt you, S—” I shook my head. “Tshabina…” My whisper was hoarse, choked with pain, and my chest felt too tight to breathe as I closed my eyes.
What should I do, baby?
I gently guided her to sit on the sofa in the corner of the room.
I held her hand, easing her to the side, and my eyes were fixed on her.
We faced each other, hands trembling yet intertwined.
I stared at our joined fingers, softly brushing my thumb over her palm.
Tshabina looked back at me, as though she longed to ask, to unravel me.
“Why did you bring me here?” She finally whispered, her eyes still red, never leaving mine. “Twice now,” her shoulders rose. “Why this place?”
I gave a frail smile, meeting her with tenderness. I let out a shaky breath, silencing the urge to stay quiet.
Tshabina deserved an answer. “I’ve always had places to hide,” I murmured. “Whether in the UK or here, this penthouse is one of them.” Hide from them, Tshabina. Run from them. Escape them.
She fell silent, her eyes stayed on me. My grip tightened. I tried to give her a signal—it was all right if she wanted to ask more, to ease her confusion. As long as I could, as long as I remained myself and in control, she could still have me.
Take me while I still can, Tshabina.
Dig deeper if it brings you even the slightest peace. I’ll let you, baby.
She swallowed. “That time… in the shower…” Her tone was hesitant. “Why did it suddenly happen like that? The lights are going out, and the music is playing on its own?” Her eyes wavered, as if forcing the words out.
My heart pounded. Don’t. She wouldn’t take it well, just like them, just like your dad.
I swallowed the massive lump in my throat and let out a ragged breath. My hand clutched hers tight, and I met her eyes. “The bathroom does that automatically at midnight,” I replied, my whole body trembled, “Not just in this penthouse, but every place I’ve lived, all of them.”
Tshabina studied me, brow lifting. “Why?” she whispered. “And why exactly at midnight?”
My chest thudded, sweat sliding down my back. She’d think like they did, like your dad. You knew that, Zioh! I clenched my hand. “Peace.”
It came out barely audible, so I repeated it: “Peace.” My eyes locked on hers. “When I can’t find calm, I’d always soak in the bathtub while listening to songs.” I faltered, swallowing again. “Especially at night, it’s unbearable. It’s never quiet.”
My voice shook when I uttered the words that felt like a curse, something I’d tried to bury alive, especially from her. “Complementary therapy.”
The words nearly broke me. Unease gnawed at me, and her gaze narrowed. See? You shouldn’t have said that. She’d look at you like they all did. I breathed out, shaking my head.
When I looked at her again, I found her soft, steady gaze.
It washed calm over me in an instant, like a hug, and I breathed out again, quieter.
“Self-soothing,” I confessed, my voice shook, feeling exposed.
She’d see you differently from now on. “It feels like… the noise finally stops after it’s filled your head all day.
The thorns that had tightened around your neck, making you unable to breathe, finally broke off.
And the wound that won’t stop bleeding dried, even if for a while. ”
What a fool.
I paused. Staring at her for a long while. “And at 00:00, it means… I did it again.” I smiled even as my lips trembled. “Another new day has come after a long one. I survived another day, Tshabina.”
It all helps me breathe. Just like you, beautiful, you make me want to open my eyes in the morning and get up to find you. But above all, the last thing I want to do is hurt you.
I rested my head on her shoulder. “But in the past, that was never the way I coped.”