She Who Stole His Heart

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Chapter 18

“What’s taking you so long?” Mzamo asked, standing outside of the bathroom door. Kholwa never took too long to shower, so it worried him when it had been thirty minutes and the shower was still running. He knocked again. “Khokho, are you okay in there?” Nothing. “I’m coming in.” He said louder.

He slowly opened the door and glanced towards the running shower.

“Kholwa!”

Kholwa was passed out at the bed of the shower. Her back was against the shower wall and her head hanging loosely as the hot water fell on top of her. Mzamo rushed to her side, taking a towel from the wreck. He opened the shower door, closed the running water and then wrapped the towel around delicate Kholwa. With his touch he could feel the heat radiating from her body.

“Don’t worry. You’ll be okay.”

He picked her up and made sure that her head was comfortably on his chest. Her heart was still beating normally, that was a good sign. He managed to take his car keys and rushed out of the flat, not caring that he hadn’t locked the door.

The elevator opened. Mzamo rushed, grateful that he did not have to wait too long. August was in the elevator, shocked by the sight of Kholwa unconscious in her friend’s arms. He stared at her small body, wrapped in the towel, and looked up at Mzamo, who seemed too anxious.

“Is she okay?” He asked.

“Can you drive?” Mzamo asked, staring impatiently at the numbers on the wall, completely ignoring him.

Just a few more floors.

“Yes.”

“Drive us to the hospital. Take the keys, they’re on my pointer finger.”

August took the keys, not saying anything else.


Mzamo put Kholwa in the car first, and then he got in. He put her head on his lap to stop her from moving too much. August looked at them from the rear-view mirror, fixing his eyes on Kholwa’s peaceful face.

The ride to the hospital was deadly silent, but thankfully they arrived at the hospital in less than ten minutes.

When they got there, a stretcher was already coming out of the doors. The doctors helped take her out of the car and then rushed her to the emergency room. Mzamo sighed, putting his arms on the car and then resting his forehead on them.

“What’s wrong with her?” August angrily asked, but Mzamo did not move away from the car. “Dammit, what’s wrong with...!”

“Remember,” Mzamo got off the car and slowly walked towards the angry designer. He glared, already towering over him, “I am not your friend. Don’t demand information from me. I will tell you when I fucking want to!”

August didn’t say anything else. Mzamo took the car keys from him and then got into the car. He drove away, leaving him at the hospital entrance with no further explanation.

August glared at the small car as it drove away. He clenched his fists, watching until the car disappeared from his sight.

If Mzamo was not going to tell him, then he would find out himself.

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