NANDI MOOR
I am in the car with Enzo, on our way to the clinic for a check-up. Well, I am actually okay, but Enzo just wants to make sure that me and the baby are okay before he returns to Joburg. We got back home just two days ago, and he asked for a few days’ leave at work and thankfully, his boss understood when Enzo made up some sad story on why he had to come back home. We did not talk much since the other day when we had to come down here and when we got here, my brother had no mercy on him about making me pregnant. My brother’s heart is broken because I am pregnant. He treats me like a baby and now that I am soon to be a mother, he wonders how I am going to take care of my child.
“Would you like something to eat before we get into the clinic?” Enzo asks, pulling up on the parking
