“Along Came Love By Cheryl Zee” PDF free download. “Along Came Love By Cheryl Zee” is now available as a free copy that you can download in PDF format.
Summary Of Along Came Love By Cheryl Zee
“Along Came Love By Cheryl Zee” is a great book that you can read for free. It is an interesting book that has a lot of fun. Before going into more details, here is the summary of this book;
I don’t know how you got into my heart, but I know I never want you to leave.
ALONG CAME LOVE
CHAPTER 1
.
.
“Ubuhle bendoda inkomo zayo.”
The first time I heard this African proverb, I was too young to understand it. A real man is judged by the size of his pockets. Judged by who, it doesn’t say. I took it upon myself to be the one to judge them.
If it’s not shiny, then it’s not a man and I am not wasting my time on it.
This one sleeping next to me shines brighter than my future. I love him and his bank account. I’m proud to say that I scored myself a real ATM, his snores sound like ka-ching. It’s hard to believe he is mine.
My mother would remove my heart if she heard me say I love a man.
Speaking of my mother, I have multiple missed calls from her.
I kiss my shiny ATM and scoot away from the bed, careful not to wake him up.
I have a wedding to get to in less than two hours.
I pick my dress from the floor, and scurry my naked self to the bathroom, I want to do a number two but that’s not a good idea.
The first time I used his bathroom, I had to ask him to come flush it for me. This is the most complicated toilet I have ever seen, till this day I avoid using it.
Sometimes when I catch him looking at me funny, my mind convinces me that he’s thinking about the day he had to flush down my shit.
I pour water in a bucket and pee inside, yes I’m a twenty three year-old who doesn’t know how to use a fancy toilet. That takes nothing away from my intelligence.
I discard my waste in the sink then rinse the basin with Handy Andy.
“Baby.”
Oh shit! He’s awake, I was hoping he’d wake up after I have left.
“In the bathroom.” I shout, as I put on my dress.
I need to brush my teeth first. Patrick Mokoena is the type that loves morning kisses.
“Baby, where is my toothbrush?” I ask.
He’s always misplacing my toothbrush.
The bathroom door opens, “Morning Sexy.”
The only man with a sexy Pedi accent, the only man that should exist.
“Hey.” I say.
The hunger in his eyes has everything to do with the smile on my face.
“Why did you leave the bed?” He says, coming to press a kiss on my lips.
“I have to go home, my mother is looking for me.”
Queen has probably told the entire neighbourhood that I didn’t spend the night at home. My mother’s dramatics are not cute.
“Do you really have to go? I want you to stay.” His hands trail to my ass, I dodge his lips which in turn puts a frown on his face.
“I haven’t brushed my teeth.” I say.
He hasn’t brushed his. These things are done on TV, it’s disgusting.
Patrick smiles and kisses me anyway.
Two seconds in and I am done with the kiss.
“My mother is waiting, I will call you later.” I say.
Queen will kill me today.
“You can’t call me today baby, remember my grandfather passed away, I will be too busy to talk.” Patrick reminds me.
I feel like an insensitive jerk. Patrick called me last night, he was crying so much that he couldn’t get a word out. His grandfather died of old age on Wednesday night.
When he called me crying, I dropped everything and came here to be with him.
We cuddled and talked for hours, cuddling led to kissing, and kissing led to sex.
I didn’t want to because there is a death in his family, he disputed, and said it was okay to be intimate because his family doesn’t practise those things.
I don’t know how much bad luck I collected from our sex marathon, I need cleansing that’s for sure.
I’m ready to go home, Patrick requested a ride for me. I have three minutes to get to the gate.
“Take this, buy yourself something nice.” He hands me a bank card. “There’s no limit, but behave.”
What does the word behave mean? I’m going to paint the town red with this card.
“Thank you baby, you’re the best.” I reward him with a kiss.
“I love you, I will call you in three days, okay?” He says, takes my bag and walks with me outside.
The cab is here, I kiss him goodbye and jump in the car.
.
.
I ask the driver to drop me a few houses away from my house. Alex is a town that never sleeps, people are out here in their morning gowns.
One thing about township people, they know when you’ve spent the night at a man’s place.
They are staring, judging me as if they are virgins.
I walk with my head held high, I am not about to confirm their assumptions.
The gate is not locked, that means Queen is awake. Lord give me strength.
To show that I still respect her, I knock and wait for her to invite me in.
I’m on my forth knock and she hasn’t said anything. To be safe, I take out the bank card Patrick gave me and enter the house.
“Your problem Lalela Ntuli is that you think a man is more important than money.”
She’s yelling from somewhere in this two bedroom house.
I hate it when she calls my name out loud, it reminds me of her betrayal.
My own mother looked at my Angelic baby face and named me Lalela?
Was she not convicted after that? I mean her heart should’ve hurt.
I think Lalela is the last word she said to my father when he walked out on her after telling her she was pregnant, she wanted him to listen to her.
What good did naming me Lalela do? The man didn’t want to listen to her, he is still trying to outrun Usain Bolt. He’s not going to come back.
I don’t know my father’s face, that’s how much my mother hates him. She has no pictures of him.
The sitting room is empty, I don’t bother checking the kitchen. She and her long nails stay away from that area.
“Go and get dressed, we are late for the Mdluli wedding.” More yelling from her.
I will show her the bank card later, it really was going to come to my defence.
My phone beeps as I place my bag on the bed, it’s a reminder of the Mdluli wedding.
I don’t know anything about the couple, only that they are stinking rich and we are going to steal from their rich guests.
Stealing is a very bad word, we’re going to take from them. South Africa is for all of us.
My mother is a master at taking from the rich, go hard or go home is one of her favourite sayings. She’s a hustler by nature.
We crash weddings, high elite parties and funerals.
I have attended more weddings and funerals than I can count. My job is to befriend the target, find out everything there is to know about them
Advertisement
and get them to trust me.
Trusting me means entrance to their homes and safes.
‘There are many ways to make money Lalela, and in order to survive on this earth, you need to at least know the basics.” My mother once said.
Boy did she teach me the basics.
I was three years old when I made my first hustle, I was on a Jet advert.
I was going to be the next Queen Latifah, little did I know my dream would die with my cuteness. No one ever tells us that Beauty is not forever.
“I have ruined you princess, you misunderstood when I said that a man is important. You need to learn how to live without a man, Lalela.”
She’s standing at my door, wearing a dress that barely covers anything on her petite body.
“Patrick lost his grandfather, I had to be there for him. We were singing funeral songs the whole night, he’s really having a hard time accepting his death.” I’m a liar by profession, it doesn’t come with a salary though.
“Shame! Is he okay?” She sounds sympathetic.
Queen Ntuli does not sympathize with anyone.
“He needs time.”
I turn and stare at the little bodycon I’m wearing, inspired by my giver of life. My mother. It has a seductive style to it, showing the little hips God was generous enough to give me. Black goes well with my cinnamon skin color, I go for 6 inch heels to add life to my short legs.
“You look like a goddess.” Queen says, shuffling my curly weave.
“I look like my mother.” She smiles, she loves it when anyone says we lookalike.
“Let’s go, the Uber will be here in a few minutes.” That’s her, sounding excited to crash another rich person’s wedding.
I can’t recall how it got this far, or how it began. We’ve been conning people for as long as I can remember.
I didn’t go to varsity like other kids, while my peers applied for admissions, I was in a short dress seducing a man too old to call bae and too rich to ignore.
I could’ve said no to my mother, and fought for my dreams. But with what money?
“Lalela.” My ear drums are close to bursting.
My mother screams when she speaks, she’s a social butterfly, brings life to the party.
People that do not know us think we’re sisters, it’s offensive for me. I would like to think I don’t look my age.
.
.
I want to skip the wedding ceremony, at the reception is where the magic happens. But we have to attend both to avoid looking dodgy.
“The wedding has started.” Queen whispers as we walk through the door.
The bride and groom are exchanging rings. My feet freeze, I didn’t know I needed spectacles till today.
What am I seeing?
“Let’s grab a seat.” My mother pulls my hand, I can’t move.
That man who’s slipping a ring in the bride’s finger is Patrick Mokoena. My Patrick, I would recognize him in my sleep.
“Mom that’s Patrick.” My voice trembles along with my heart.
“Where?” She’s never met him, nor seen him in pictures. I was yet to introduce them.
I want to scream and disrupt the wedding when the marriage officiant announces them married.
“I now pronounce you Mr and Mrs Sphamandla Mdluli.”
Sphamandla? No, that’s Patrick Mokoena. I know that SpongeBob head from anywhere.
The crowd is clapping and cheering for them, they turn to the guests with ugly smiles on their faces.
He sees me, his eyes are slowly widening. He looks like he’s about to have a heart attack.
I knew that’s him, I take a step forward. His eyes almost fall out, he shakes his head gesturing that I stop.
I don’t owe him shit. I take more steps forward, my hands are trembling, my heart is sitting in my throat.
Patrick mouths a “please.”
Someone grabs my hand and pulls me out of the loud auditorium.
It’s my mother, she’s dragging me away from the entrance.
God must have been trying out for comedy the day he scripted my life because there is no way. What in the name of infidelity is going on?
“That he-goat.” I sizzle, yanking my hand from Queen’s grip. How could Patrick do this to me? He lied about his grandfather’s death.
“What’s going on, Lalela?”
“Patrick just married another woman, Ma. He’s my boyfriend.”
She sighs, and delivers nothing to comfort me.
“He told me that he’s Pedi, he even sounded Pedi.” All along I was fucking with a Sphamandla.
Queen taps my shoulder, “Hey, you’re breathing too loud. Are you okay?”
It’s called hyperventilating, but Queen wouldn’t know, she slept her way to grade 12.
I shake my head, “I’m going to stand in the middle of the road and let a car hit me.”
I have nothing to live for now.
“Why?” Queen has her hands on her hips and judging me with a creased brow.
“I want to die?”
“Why?”
I’m not liking the way these “why’s” are coming out of her mouth.
“Patrick has been using me, Mama.”
“Using you for what? You have nothing. What was he using you for my baby?” This woman’s attitude is getting stronger by the second.
My tears dry up, I’m slowly forgetting why I was crying.
“I’m trying to cry for my lost relationship. Will you keep scraping the scabs on my sores, or comfort me?”
She’s laughing.
I have always had a crush on Trevor Noah, I didn’t know that automatically makes me a comedian.
“Dry your tears Lalela. Don’t let him see you crumble, we’re going back in there. You will pretend that you don’t know the groom. Your sweet revenge my baby, will be stripping him of everything he has. Now wipe your tears, I paid a lot of money for those eyelashes.”
She doesn’t get it, Patrick has been lying to me for two years.
“Mama, he’s not Pedi, he’s Zulu.”
She sighs, looking at me with pity in her eyes.
“That xenophobic bastard, we’ll make him pay my baby.” She’s wiping my tears.
It’s not xenophobia, it’s tribalism. My problems are too many.
.
Detail About Along Came Love By Cheryl Zee
-
- Title: Along Came Love
- Author: Cheryl Zee
- Genre: African Romance
- Format: PDF/ePub
- Size: 1 MB
- Price: free
