The late afternoon sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of their Hyde Park apartment, painting the room in warm shades of gold that danced across the sleek, modern furniture. From the couch, Phenyo watched her husband pace the living room, phone pressed to his ear, his voice calm but filled with quiet authority.
Even from a distance, he was magnetic , Mthunzi Dlamini, CEO, leader, legend in Johannesburg. But here, in their home, she got to see the man behind the reputation: calm, precise, almost untouchable in his control. The way he moved, the subtle set of his jaw when focused, the flicker of concentration in his eyes , it all made her heart swell.
He ended the call with a soft sigh, loosened his tie, and finally sank into the couch beside her. "Deal closed," he murmured, a hint of pride and relief in his voice.
Phenyo leaned back, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "You're so sexy when you're serious."
He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk appearing. "Is that so?"
"The whole CEO-of-Johannesburg vibe really works for you," she teased, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, and reached out to squeeze her hand. For a moment, everything felt perfect , the city sprawling beneath their apartment, the glow of the skyline, the quiet intimacy between them. Their little bubble of love, built carefully over years, seemed untouchable.
Then his phone rang again.
The sound cut through the quiet like a knife. Mthunzi glanced at the screen, and the warmth in his posture vanished instantly. Tension coiled in his shoulders, and his jaw tightened as if the simple act of picking up the phone carried weight.
"Baba," he said, standing and straightening his posture as though discipline alone could command respect through the receiver.
"So I have to call you a million times before you answer?" His father's voice was sharp, impatient, the kind that left no room for excuses.
"No, Baba. I was on another call ... I was closing a deal with....."
"I don't care about any deal! I need you to come home this weekend. There's something important we need to discuss," his father barked.
Mthunzi swallowed. "This weekend is a bit..."
"I have spoken." The line went dead.
Silence fell over the apartment. The city outside seemed suddenly distant, the golden light of the sunset muted, as though it, too, understood the weight of the conversation.
Phenyo let out a long, soft sigh. "Why do you let him talk to you like that?" Her tone was gentle, yet sharp with concern.
"Babe, please, don't start," he said, voice low, heavy. "He wants me to come home this weekend."
"This weekend?" she repeated, disbelief softening her words. "But, Mthunzi, we had plans…"
"I know." He ran a hand over his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."
She studied him, searching for something in his expression that might tell her why. Why his father's voice still held such power, why he obeyed so willingly despite the resentment simmering beneath the surface. She could see it ,the tension in his shoulders, the tight line of his jaw, the way his eyes seemed momentarily lost, staring past her into something she couldn't touch.
He leaned back, letting out a quiet breath, his hand brushing hers in a fleeting gesture of reassurance. "It's just… you know how my father can get babe," he murmured. The words felt heavy in the air, the unsaid weight of tradition, duty, and the past settling between them.
Phenyo shook her head, a small frown creasing her forehead. "I don't like this, Mt. I don't like how he makes you feel so small."
He reached for her, holding her hand tighter. "I know babe, but my dad...he's been through a lot, life has forced him to be hard."
She nodded, though worry lingered in her eyes. She wanted to argue, to demand that he stand up to his father, but she knew better. Mthunzi had carried the weight of his family all his life , of expectations, traditions, and obligations ,and nothing she said could lift it.
The room fell quiet again, the golden light fading as the sun dipped lower. Outside, Johannesburg thrummed with life, oblivious to the storm quietly brewing in one apartment high above the city streets.
And Mthunzi sat there, the weight of the call pressing on him, knowing that returning home this weekend would change everything.