Page 11 of You Deserve Good Things

Houston, TX

Some people said time healed everything. They fucking lied.

Four long-ass years since I last saw her.

Four damn years since she left without a damn word.

Since I had to stand there like a damn fool watching my whole world drive away.

And still? She was in my bones. Deep. Like marrow-deep.

Her name was carved in every breath I took, and her memory lived in the pauses between my heartbeats.

I tried to move on. God knew I did. I tried to drown her out with work, ambition, and distractions.

I let the streets pull me into motion so I wouldn’t feel the stillness she left behind.

I tried different faces, different names, different bodies.

But none of them tasted like her laugh. None of them smelled like the vanilla and brown sugar she wore on her collarbone.

None of them had that energy, that soft thunder that only Shaniya could carry.

She was the dream I couldn’t wake up from and the nightmare I couldn’t sleep through.

I left Chase so fast to head to the area where the university Shaniya attended was located without any real plan.

I just hoped I would see her or catch her in passing, so when I received a DM from the same Daniale chick that Chase showed me in the picture with my baby, I never responded to something so fast in my life.

She gave me the third-degree on not playing with her “sis” first, but eventually let me know that Shaniya frequents the bookstore on campus.

She also told me to let her know if I needed her assistance because my baby was a track star.

I appreciated her for real and was happy Yaya found somebody to look out for her like I used to.

And now, outta nowhere, she was just there.

Standing right in front of me. Like she hadn’t ripped my heart out and took it with her to Texas when she left.

Parading around like she wasn’t the reason every damn love song made me mad.

Simply existing as if she hadn’t haunted my damn prayers every night since.

She didn’t see me at first. She was walking through the bookstore, fingers gliding across covers like they were silk.

The way she moved—calm, graceful, like poetry before it’s read aloud in a dimly lit lounge.

I didn’t even know why I walked in there—I had just been killing time.

However, life had a funny-ass way of showing you mercy when you had given up on it. And there she was.

Same caramel skin—glowing like the sun kissed her just ’cause it missed her.

Same long lashes that curled up like they were praying for something.

Same mouth. Soft. Full. The kind of lips you write poems about and then pretend you weren’t soft enough to write no damn poems.

She was wearing this little sundress. Cream and butter yellow. Simple. Modest. But on her? Baby . . . she might as well had been the goddess of warmth. She didn’t need no makeup, no jewelry, no extra shit. Just existing was enough to knock the breath outta me.

And just like that, my legs moved. My heart moved. My soul damn near leapt out my chest. I was across that store in seconds, walking toward her like she was a magnetic field and I’d been made of steel this whole time.

When she turned toward me, our eyes instantly locked.

Time? That shit stopped like God hit pause on the whole world just so I could see her clearly.

She froze. Her fingers tightened around the book she was holding, and I saw it, the flicker of recognition. There was a storm brewing behind her eyes. The way her chest rose up and down methodically as if she forgot how to breathe.

Her lips parted, just barely. I waited for the sound. For my name to come out her mouth. But she snapped it shut and turned.

Like she could just walk away again.

Nah.

I moved before she took a second step. Reached out and wrapped my fingers around her wrist—gently, like I remembered how she didn’t like to be startled. Like I still knew her body better than she did.

“Don’t you dare,” I said, low, just above a whisper.

Her breath caught. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t turn, either. But that pause in her steps? That was enough for me to slide in. I stepped closer. Her back was still to me, the heat of her skin radiating into my chest like a flame I’d never stopped craving.

“You really gon’ act like you don’t see me, Yaya?”

That name hit her. I saw the shudder roll down her spine.

She turned.

And when our eyes met? My whole damn world stitched itself back together like I’d been cracked down the middle and only she had the thread to sew me back up.

She looked different. Grown. Fuller. Like life had kissed her and cut her in equal measure. But she was still mine. Still her. Still the girl who used to hum under her breath when she was nervous. Still the girl who used to doodle hearts in her notebook when she thought nobody was watching.

“Jacory . . .” she muttered breathlessly.

I closed my eyes.

That voice. That voice was the sound of safety and storms. If Heaven had an accent, it would sound like her whispering my name.

I opened my eyes, stepping in like I belonged in her space. ’Cause I did.

“It’s really you.”

She looked like she didn’t know what to say. Hell, she looked like she didn’t know how to be here with me again. And I got it. I really did. But I needed her to understand—this was no accident.

“You look . . .” she started then trailed off.

I caught her hand, slid my fingers through hers like I was reclaiming territory.

“You ain’t even gotta say it, baby. I already know.”

She blinked. “Know what?”

“That you missed me.”

She scoffed, tried to roll her eyes. “You’re still cocky as hell.”

“Yeah.” I smirked. “And you still in love with me, though.”

Her fingers tensed. Her lips parted again. And that silence? That was a confession.

She tried to pull back. “Jacory, we shouldn’t?—”

“Nah.” I shook my head. “You don’t get to do that. Not again.”

She looked like she wanted to bolt. Her heart was racing, and her fear was screaming, but I wasn’t allowing her to run.

“You left, Yaya. And I let you. I let you walk away because I thought maybe that’s what you needed to heal. But you know what I needed?” I leaned in, voice rough now. “You.”

Her lips trembled. “You don’t know what I’ve been through . . .”

“I don’t care,” I said, my thumb brushing her cheek. “Whatever it is, we gon’ walk through it together.”

My voice broke.

“You mean more to me than air. Than blood. You in every beat of my chest. Every time I exhale, your name’s in it. You are the reason I kept goin’, baby. You are the reason I built myself up.”

I took her hand and placed it on my chest.

“You feel that? That heartbeat? That’s been yours since we were kids. Ain’t nobody else ever had it.”

Her eyes filled, spilling tears she didn’t even try to catch.

“This time,” I whispered, leaning in, pressing my forehead to hers. “This time, I’m not letting you go. I don’t care what happened. I don’t care what you think you don’t deserve. I’m gon’ spend the rest of my life showin’ you that you deserve every good thing this world got to give.”

She didn’t speak.

But she didn’t run.

And in that moment? That was enough.

For now.

But I was coming for all of her. Her heart. Her fears. Her forever. Because love like this? It wasn’t made to be temporary.

It was made to last lifetimes.