Posted in Fiction

Harare’s Matchmaker 4

I stood still in borrowed clothes, in an unfamiliar place and staring at Mr wrong right now. How did one night of drunk in pain end up full of regrets and a million dollar question? I couldn’t look away from those yummy eyes that were looking at me daring me to say something. What would you say to an unexpected one night stand that you never dreamed would happen?

“Did we uhmmm sleep together?” I asked praying for the ground to swallow me already as I was never ready for the answer that would come . “You don’t remember do you?” he responded while dishing scrambled eggs to a plate while another hand poured orange juice. Didn’t rich people drink Tanganda black tea? Or juice was the norm in the suburbs?  His juice was the least of my problems -how did I sleep with the man I was supposed to match with an eager woman ready for happy ever after?

I pulled a chair and sat down not that I had anywhere to go at this moment. Obviously, I had to be at the office but this was an emergency that needed swift action. My breakup had caused this unfortunate event to occur but my body was pumped that I had let loose with a man that looked like a tall glass of hot cocoa with floaty marshmallows. “Did we at least use protection?” I asked the man that was focused on his breakfast than the short morning breath cornrowed melanin queen of mishaps in front of him.

“Do I look reckless to you ?”

” Well, I don’t know you well to know what your style is ?” I responded

” Well, you didn’t care which devil you threw yourself to last night?” he said

That stung a bit as I could not even recall anything about last night. Some go out and get tattoos, write killer breakup songs and I went out last night drank like a fish and lost my virginity to a man I barely know. This would be an interesting story for Chido my friend who worked for the Cosmopolitan of Africa ‘She Fierce’ and she was always on the lookout for stories that resonated with her fans.

Tears threatened to make an appearance but I bit my tongue. Sitting in front of me was a spoiled rich man that was gorgeous but didn’t find me attractive me in the least possible way. I stood up and said, “This doesn’t change anything, I still will find you a match and please from now on refer to me as Miss Sibanda”.With that, I left the room and prepared to do the walk of shame in the suburbs I was unfamiliar with. I turned and said, “Where can I get a kombi from here”. He looked at me biting his tongue to prevent a laugh from showing on his face.

“The driver will take you home”

“Thank you,” I said

Now you probably thinking why did she accept his help. Well, listen I have never lived in the suburbs and I am not going to be on the front cover of H-Metro looking like a madwoman roaming the streets. Turns out his driver was more polite than his boss and maybe it’s because he has driven a lot of his Master’s one night stands. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I remembered the sixteen-year-old that had vowed to save herself for marriage but had lost her V-card to a man that she hated. Where do broken hearts go?I asked my broken heart as I let the tears massage my face.

As soon as we got to my house, I jumped out and thanked the jovial man and it was only when the key unlocked the safe haven that I let all the tears I had held in pour unashamedly. I cried for myself, m broken heart and my virtue……

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