Morning light had already spilled across the valleys by the time Lomile reached Maseru. The taxi rank was alive with the usual noise of vendors, children in uniforms, and the steady rhythm of engines waiting for another long route. She sat for a moment before getting out, her fingers still tracing the last few messages she had exchanged with Vincent before he got off at Teyateyaneng. His voice lingered in her thoughts like the aftertaste of strong coffee, calm and deep.
He had said only a few words before stepping out. "Take care, Lomile. Send me a message when you arrive." It was not a request, it was more like a command dressed in softness. She nodded then, even though he did not wait for an answer. When she finally typed, her hands shook slightly.
I arrived well, thank you Sir.
She read it three times before pressing send. It was strange how that one word, Sir, felt right. It rolled off her tongue silently and settled somewhere in her chest. She had never called anyone that before.
His reply came minutes later. Good. You listened. Rest, I will text you later.
That message stayed with her through the day. She bathed, ate, and helped her aunt at the shop but her mind kept drifting to that short ride and the way his presence filled the space. There was something steady about him, the way he spoke little but everything carried weight. The tone of his voice was never raised, yet every word felt like a line drawn with purpose.
As night approached, she sat on her bed and stared at her phone. Her body felt restless, not from exhaustion but from something deeper, something that had started on that ride. She kept asking herself why she cared so much about a man she had known for less than twenty four hours.
When the message came, her heart jumped.
Tell me what you are wearing.
She read it twice. There was no greeting, no explanation. Just a simple instruction. For a moment she thought of ignoring it, but curiosity had already won.
A loose T-shirt and shorts, she replied.
His response followed quickly. Take a picture. I want to see you exactly as you are.
Her breath caught. It was not the kind of request she was used to, yet the calm in his words made it sound natural. Not dirty, not forceful, just clear. She hesitated for a long time, then stood in front of the mirror. The reflection looking back at her was ordinary. But she tilted the phone and took the picture anyway.
When she sent it, her pulse raced.
He did not reply immediately, and that silence made her nervous. Minutes later the message came. Good. Next time, I will tell you what to wear before you go to bed.
Lomile's lips parted slightly. She typed, Yes Sir. The words came easily now.
He replied, Do not rush what you do not yet understand. For now, I only want you to listen. When I ask, you answer. When I say stop, you stop. Can you do that for me, Lomile?
Her fingers hovered over the screen. The weight of his words felt like a promise, or a door opening to something she could not yet see.
I can try, she answered.
Good girl, he wrote back. Those two words made her entire body warm.
That night, she slept with her phone on her chest. Every vibration made her heart skip. She woke twice to check if he had sent another message. He had not. But that silence carried a presence of its own. She could feel him even when he said nothing.
The next morning, she woke before sunrise and stared out of the window. The city of Maseru moved slowly at dawn. Taxis honked in the distance. Somewhere across the hills, Vincent was probably awake too, checking the farm, speaking to his grandmother, perhaps thinking of her.
She smiled at the thought, even though she had no reason to. She only knew one thing for certain. That simple taxi ride had changed something in her. She no longer felt like the same woman who had boarded in Pretoria.
Her phone buzzed again.
Good morning, Lomile. Did you sleep well?
She typed quickly. Yes Sir. I did.
Did you dream of me? he asked.
She stared at the words for a long moment before answering. Yes. I did.
He replied with a single message that left her heart trembling. Good. Because I want you to start thinking of me every night before you sleep. You will not understand yet, but this is how I begin to claim you.
Her eyes closed, her body shivered. She could feel it already. Control had begun to take root not in her body but in her mind.
And just like that, what started as a ride between strangers was slowly becoming something deeper, something neither of them could explain, but both could feel growing with each message.