22/04/2026
Chapter One- the breaking point
“I can’t keep doing this... I can’t keep putting you together every time she breaks you.”
That is all I remember from last night. It was the last thing he said to me before I drifted off to sleep in his arms. Everything else is a blur; the alcohol was working overtime, but those words remain vivid. I must have mumbled, I’m so sorry. Heavens, I hope I did. I am sorry for all of this, but I’m stuck.He always knew how to hold the pieces she shattered.
Yesterday had started off strangely. I was already tense from a hectic work week, and the friction between Yandi and me kept escalating. She was working out of town for a few weeks, and we were already two weeks in. Our schedules clashed constantly; scheduled calls were missed, and when we did manage to connect, it was always rushed. Texting was even more frustrating since neither of us could chat during work hours. Our conversations read like a badly scripted play:
6.30 am Good morning, I hope you slept well.
7.15 am I did, I hope you did too.
7.30Clocking in. Have a good day
—Blue Tick—
1.00 pm It’s lunchtime on my end. I hope you’re good.
1.18pm Working through lunch. Call later?
1.20 pm Can’t, working late again.
7.30 pm Just got home, goodnight. I miss you.
Rinse, cycle, repeat.
We barely said "I love you" anymore. Our relationship had been failing for a while and by a while, I mean a year. Things had changed; we weren't the people we were when we first met.
She wasn't working yesterday morning, so we had a brief video call. I mentioned I’d be out with the girls for after-work drinks. She went silent, then quickly claimed she had something to do.
That was strike one.
I got to work and found absolute chaos. A presentation deadline had been moved up, and I was unprepared. I didn't check my phone all day.
Strike two.
By 5:00 PM, my phone buzzed with a 10 percent battery warning. I looked at the charger in my desk drawer, then at the mountain of files still left to finish. I knew if I plugged it in, the screen would light up with her demands for an update. I knew the "Where are you?" interrogation would start the second I left the building.
I closed the drawer. I let the battery die in the dark.
Strike three.
We reached the bar around 8:00 PM. Sihle luckily had a power bank, but the moment I felt the vibration of the phone coming back to life, I wished I’d left it dead. The notifications were relentless. Her name glared at me from the screen, over and over.
8 Missed Calls. 35 New Messages.
“Someone is in trouble with the missus,” Sihle joked, watching me stare at the glass.
“Is she mad you’re out again?” Amanda piped in. “I get you to love her, but she has to accept us at some point.”
Four years of Yandi openly hating them. Four years of me begging them not to judge her. She was the one I loved.
“Can we not talk about my person?” I snapped, my thumb trembling as I scrolled through the archives of her anger.
1:30 PM: I’m assuming you’re busy. A quick 'received' would be nice, Zee.
4:00 PM: So you have time for 'the girls' but not a 2-minute text to your partner? Cool.
6:15 PM: a text from Amanda. Phone. Wooow .. was it even you or her ?
7:45 PM: You’re doing this on purpose. You’re punishing me because I’m away working for our future. You’re so selfish it’s actually exhausting…
The heat rose in my chest, a mixture of shame and a sudden, sharp spike of resentment. Then, the last one, sent only minutes ago:
8:10 PM: I can’t do this anymore, Zee.
I stared at the words until they blurred. I didn't reply. I couldn't. Instead, I slammed my phone face down on the sticky wood of the bar, the screen finally silent.
“Shots for everyone!” I shouted, my voice cracking through the music. “Make them doubles!”
