Nandi pushed Thulile and Femi his gran's chair to lars' car.

Julian waited in the parking lot with Lars. He wanted to have a moment to chat with him.

"What do you want?"

Lars frowned, "what do you mean?"

"What are your intentions. What do you want from Thulile?

"I want coffee," Lars replied without hesitation, "Thulile and I are working together; I'm in a position where I can help her. So I'm helping. What do you want, Mr. Nkosi? Are you here for your friend's interests or your own? Thulile was with Mr. Mkhize, right? They broke up, and suddenly your there, so tell me your motives."

Julian attacked him first. Lars just followed in his lead.

"I don't need to justify myself," Julian answered.

Lars pursed his lips and inflated his cheeks before bursting out with, "I've observed Thulile enough to know there's no way she'll ever see you for something other than Mr. Mhkize's friend. That fact strikes you out for any other position you'd like to have beside her."

The man didn't throw a pebble but a stone, if not to say an anchor in the sea.

Julian chuckled, "you're funny. Who do you think you are?"

Lars smiled, "dunno, perhaps I'm the man who can offer Thulile the possibility to chase her dreams. In reality, Thulile doesn't need you or me. It's our fantasy to believe we can save her. She needs tools to find a way out, and I'm going to give them to her."

"You want to play the night in shining armor, huh?"

Lars shook his head, "correction, I said tools. I'm just a tool, her armor perhaps. She's the knight."

"Wow, so you'll be her armor for free? Don't act as though you're not expecting something in return," Julian restored. He hated the superior tone he assumed Lars took with him.

"I'm a businessman, here to make a profit, and I know I can do that with Thulile."

Julian tried to distill something in Lars' expression that would indicate a lie, but he saw none. The man's face remained neutral.

No, Lars didn't see himself as Thulile's savior. The thought was pretentious, but he was her ally and willing to back her.

Julian was about to say something when Thulile arrived.

Lars opened the door and helped her grandmother while Julian hurried to help Thulile, only to be dusted off by Nandi.

No matter what he did, he remained Elijes' friend.

"Thank you," Thulile's gran said and patted Lars' hand. She was part of the generation who suffered from the apartheid regime. If someone had told her younger self that one day she would touch a white man without being thrown in jail or that she would live in his house as a guest and not an employee, she would have slapped the person.

Time.

It changed and shifted minds. The scene they lived in at that instant would have caused havoc back then, but things were different. Yes, some bitterness and intense resentment remained, but the will and desire for change were stronger.

"I guess we're all set," Lars said with his usual enthusiasm as he went to the driver's seat.

Thulile sneered and rolled eyes, "look at him. He's so happy," she whispered to Nandi, who had her head poking in the window.

"Thulile, the man is helping us. Be gentle, sis?"

"Pff, all he wants is coffee."

"It's a low price to pay for his service," Nandi said and caressed Thulile's head, "you need to fix this hair. You must look good."

Thulile raised a brow, "look good for what?"

"For who, sis, for who," Nandi said and backed away from the window.

Femi sat at the front with Lars while Thulile's gran sat beside her grandaughter and pretended not to hear the young women conspiring.

Nandi went to Lars' window, "thanks."

"It's nothing."

Nandi wondered whether it was Lars' way or a rich man's thing always to be positive.

Lars was the only one who did seem to see the drama. Nandi envied his carefree attitude. She wished all her worries would resume themselves in drinking coffee. Unlike Thulile Nandi, only felt good vibes concerning him. And though, Thulile played up her blind eye, Nandi could see there was more than coffee business between the two.

Now it was Julian who leaned on Thulile's window side as Lars started the car, "I'll call you."

"Julian, you know you don't need to."

"But I want to, Thulile. I'm not doing it for Elije or anyone else. It's for me. I want to make sure you're well."

Julian didn't whisper. Everyone in and around the car heard his declaration. Lars challenged him, and Julian wished to make things clear.

Lars looked in the rearview mirror to capture Thulile's reaction. The woman harbored a clueless expression which almost made Lars want to leave his seat to hug her.

Her lack of experience in relationships made Thulile opaque to many things. Despite everyone's input, Thulile couldn't accept the idea that Julian had feelings for her.

"If it pleases you," she replied.

A small smile appeared on Julian's lips. Getting rid of the image she had of him was going to be an endeavor, but the man didn't mind. He had waited for so long. Also, he understood her. He sat quiet while he knew Elije was betrothed to someone else.

Of course, Julian should have done something, but what? The man found himself stuck between the bro-code and his desire. Even then, he wondered how Elije would take the complementary information.

Lars set off, leaving Nandi and Julian standing side by side in the parking lot.

"Nkosi."

"What?" Julian asked.

"I'm sorry to say this, but the match is over. The golden ball is his."

The man turned his head to the side and sneered," Nandi, why are you like this?"

"I'm looking out for my sister's best interest, and no matter from which angle I look at it. You just ain't it. You acted trashy, Julian, and I won't forgive you."

"Well, your not my interest. So you can keep your opinion.

"Thulile will never want you. Ned-er," she empathized.

Half an hour later, Lars stopped off in Thulile's neighborhood.

"What are you doing? Lars asked when he saw Thulile open the door.

"I'm going to get my things."

"Femi and I will do it," the man replied.

"No," Thulile yelled. She didn't want Lars to see the inside of her modest home or for the neighbors to start other rumors.

Her gran patted her hand, "let him do."

"Gran," Thulile protested.

Lars was already out of the car with Femi. The boy and Nandi had packed their bags the previous days. All Lars had to do was stack the luggage in the trunk. Still, he got a glimpse of Thulile's interior. There was nothing particular to note; the house was small but tidy, nothing to be embarrassed about in Lars' opinion.

Yet Thulile had the complex. She was a poor, beaten black woman with nothing to her name except a few luxury bags.

Curious, Lars would have wished to look about a little more. He didn't know much about Thulile. Again, the man wasn't duped. Wanting to learn more about someone was a definite sign of blossoming feelings.

A man who didn't care was never eager to know unless he wished to have the knowledge to manipulate. Yes, the narcissistic gobbled information with the only goal to use it against their prey when needed. Someone interested kept notes of things that could make one happy.

As Lars arranged their luggage in his car trunk, he found himself hoping the days lived with him would procure Thulile some happiness.

As expected, Steven was working when they arrived.

Lars had briefed him on the changes. The man didn't have much to say. He, too, lived there for free. Besides, the house was big enough for all of them.

Also, there was something Steven wished to confirm from day one. Perhaps Thulile's arrival would allow his theory to become a reality.

"Wow," Femi gasped as Lars parked while his grandma gulped.

"Is this your house?" Femi asked.

"Femi," Thulile yelled. The boy turned to meet his sister's glare. Why did he need to ask a question that had a two-story building in front of his eyes as an answer?

"Yes, it's also yours now. Mi casa is su casa," Lars said with a smile.

Used to sharing and living with many, Lars felt his heart warm. He missed his family and siblings. The man thought of all the family reunions they had lived since without him. Lars had not thought of it, but it hit him then, had he unconsciously wished to have Thulile there with her family to substitute his?

The idea seemed farfetched but not impossible.

Lars didn't know whether it was a smart move or not. Anything could happen.

He went in to fetch Steven, who came to help.

Like lars, he displayed the smile Thulile decided to name rich people's ignorance. She was convinced they harbored the expression because they didn't know what it was to struggle. The bias thought wasn't totally false. The true meaning behind it was to cover up the awkwardness of an uncanny situation.

"Thulile, there's a pool," Femi exclaimed.

"I know."

The boy ran everywhere, opening every door.

"Femi, stop," Thuliles' cheeks rose in embarrassment, "I'm sorry, Lars."

"It's fine. I have nothing to hide."

Lars showed everyone their room. Thulile's and Femi's rooms were upstairs. Thulile's gran was on the ground floor to facilitate her movements.

"Let me help you," Lars got ready to scoop up Thulile.

"What are you doing?" The woman asked when she saw the man make the odd posture.

"It's for the stairs."

"I can go up alone. I've got crutches. What are you going to carry me every time?"

"The effort will tire you out. Let me work my muscles," Lars replied and scooped her up.

Thulile barely had time to let go of her crutch.

Steven looked at the scene with an amused smile.

In his arms, Thulile could feel his heartbeat. The effort must be great just as he weight she imagined, but Lars knew better. Thulile was a feather in his arms. His heart acceleration was due to something else.

He put her down, Femi followed and gave Thulile her crutches.

"It's here."

Thulile had seen the rooms before but never imagined herself sleeping in them. She remembered when Lars told her to stay, and she swore it would never happen. Life was truly unpredictable.

Lars watched her advance into the room to sit on the bed. Thulile had to bite her inner lips not to verbally swoon over the beds' comfort in front of Lars.

"Is the room okay for you?"

"Yes, thank you, Lars."

Again his heart stepped up a notch. Lars wasn't ready for love or Thulile.

Why did he always have to put himself in a risky situation?

What fool placed the object temptation where his eyes and hands could grasp it?

If Jonas were there, he would say, "only Lars can do that."