Falling For My Contract Husband

New rules

Sabelo is nowhere to be seen during supper, so I end up eating with Okuhle. It took me an hour to get her to eat with me. I wait until I'm sure everyone has gone to sleep or done whatever in their rooms and I head to my assigned room for the next 12 months. I dragged my feet to the third floor. I locked my door and then I changed into the blue pj's I wore last night and I headed to bed. Someone wakes me up in the morning. It's Sabelo and he looks mad. When isn't this guy mad? It's been 2 weeks but I feel like I'm already tired. No wonder some celebrities I read about were married for 2 weeks. I always judged them. But right now I realise as I am looking at my fuming husband that one of them must have been married to a spouse with Sabelo's annoying personality. I look at the time when I see the brightness in the room. It's 6a.m. This guy makes it seem like it's 12 in the afternoon. He leaves the room when I sit up. Now I'm fully awake and annoyed. I make the bed and take a shower. I headed downstairs five minutes before 7. Sabelo is not even here for breakfast. He walks in with Mlungisi, who looks like he spent a night there when I'm almost done. Sabelo hands me an envelope. Mlungisi rolls his eyes and I sigh. When I'm done with breakfast, I wash the dishes and head to the sitting room. As I read the first 2 lines of the document I found on the envelope, I realised that this document contains another set of rules specifically for this house. The document states that: I have to be up by 5a.m since some of the stuff starts working around that time. He doesn't want them to see that we use separate rooms. I have to go to bed after 9p.m. The last employee usually leaves around that time. I should never go into any room on the third floor that includes the master bedroom and Sabelo's study. I'm only allowed in my room. Sabelo decides on the menu, not me. When Okuhle isn't here I am expected to do her work, since 'I have to earn my keep in this house' his words are not mine. As if me being here isn't earning my keep in this house. I'm not allowed to bring any friends into the house, unless the friends benefit Sabelo, friends like Maria. This document is just a reminder that Sabelo makes the rules, not me. Not that I ever thought otherwise.

I remember my dad sharing the abuse and torture women suffered in these mansions. I never thought I could be one of them. This document seems like his way of reminding me of my place in this house. As if I forgot that I am only a guest, nothing more. But at least I get to support my parents and brothers. Just thinking about them makes me miss them. I'll call them later when everyone is home.

"Some guys y'all marry Simingaye," Mlungisi comments while sitting down on the opposite sofa. Clearly throwing a jab in his brother's way.

"I heard that." Sabelo calls from somewhere in the house. Mlungisi tells him he knows he can hear him. That's why he said it.

"What do you plan to do with yourself in the next 11 and a half months?" Mlungisi asks. I'm not sure if he's asking because he's interested or whether Sabelo asked him to.

"I'll start looking for a job when we get back from the honeymoon." I'm not even sure when we are going there exactly. This is my only chance to visit a new place. I've been stuck in the same house, same area and same province for the past 25 years. I always dreamed of travelling but I didn't have enough money. And luckily someone else is paying for the trips, not me. The way Sabelo avoids me, I'm scared to even ask about the honeymoon. I don't want him reminding me again that it's his money, not mine. When Mlungisi leaves, I turn the page. There are more rules. What is wrong with this guy? After I read through almost 50 pages of the prenup, do I still need to read 5 more pages of 'house rules'? I complain silently. But I read the rules carefully and more than once so I can understand and remember them. And then I signed. If it wasn't for my mom I wouldn't be here signing this. I'd be home with my family. We'd probably be watching TV or gossiping about our neighbours and relatives. This is not marriage. Not that we married out of love. But I still expected to be treated well.