Page 19 of You Deserve Good Things

I sat in my car, the engine humming low beneath me, hands wrapped tight around the wheel like they were gripping the moment itself.

My heart was knocking against my chest like a drumline at halftime, but it wasn’t fear; it was purpose.

It was love on a mission. I wasn’t nervous.

Nah, I was charged the hell up. Locked in. Ten toes down.

I had been waiting my whole life to love her out loud, without limits. To put some weight behind all the promises I whispered against her skin when the lights were low and my truth was loud. And now? I was ready to make her mine in front of the whole damn world.

But before the rooftop lights, the music, the ring, the yes—I had one stop to make. One conversation that mattered more than anything else. Her daddy.

Samuel Stiles. That man didn’t speak unless the moment required his voice. He was the kind of OG that made silence sound like scripture. When he opened that front door, the porch light caught the silver threading his beard, and his eyes—calm, but knowing—met mine like they’d been waiting.

“Jacory,” he said with that steady nod, the kind that always made you fix your posture.

“Mr. Stiles,” I replied, clearing my throat like my heart didn’t just skip a whole damn beat.

He stepped aside. “Come on in, son.”

The air in the living room was still. Heavy like it knew what I came to say. We sat across from each other, no distractions. Just me and the man who raised the woman I was ready to build a kingdom with.

He leaned back in that big recliner of his, fingers interlocked, watching me the way real men do—quiet, steady, calculating. And I didn’t fold.

“I think I already know why you are here,” he said, calm as ever.

I nodded once, leaning forward. “Yes, sir. I’m here to ask for your permission to marry Shaniya.”

His eyes never flinched. “Go on.”

So, I did.

“I’ve been in love with your daughter since before I even understood what love was.

I ain’t just wanna kiss her. I wanted to protect her joy, hold her pain, dance with her shadow and still see the light.

She’s not just my heart, Mr. Stiles. She’s my heartbeat .

And I won’t spend another day on this Earth without making her my wife. ”

He listened. Eyes still. But I wasn’t done.

“If she wants the world, I’ll spin it on my damn finger. If she wants peace, I’ll fight whatever war to bring it to her doorstep. And if she just wanna be loved out loud, every single day for the rest of her life? Then I already got that covered. I wake up with her name in my mouth like a prayer.”

His jaw ticked. Still not speaking. But I could feel it. He was hearing me.

“I’m gon’ love her past her fears, past her silence, past the ghosts that still whisper in her ear at night. And if anybody ever think they can snatch that happiness away from her?” I tilted my head. “They gon’ have to fight God, the devil, and me. In that order.”

That man smirked. The tiniest twitch of his lips. But it said a lot.

Then he leaned forward, eyes sharper than glass.

“You know,” he said, voice low, “Silas told me something before he passed.”

I sat up straighter, my breath catching.

“He said, ‘Daddy, I ain’t gon’ be around forever.

But Jacory? He got her. He gon’ take care of my baby sister.

He gave you hell because he knew you were good enough for her.

His overprotectiveness of his baby sis had him aggressive as all get out, but he was always rooting for you nonetheless, son. ”

That shit hit me like a bullet made of love and grief. Silas had seen me when I didn’t even see myself yet. And that? That damn near broke me and built me at the same time.

Samuel exhaled, eyes glinting.

“You always been good to her,” he said. “But now? You better be better. You get my blessing, son. Now go make her yours.”

I stood up, my heart a thunderstorm, my hand steady as I shook his. Respect was heavy in that grip. Legacy passed between our palms.

Now it was time for the magic.

“Boy, are you really tryna marry my baby for real?” Shari gasped, already dabbing at her eyes with a tissue like she was auditioning for a Tyler Perry scene.

“Duh, Mama Stiles.” Daniale grinned, braids swinging as she leaned across the table. “He tryna shut the game down, lock it up, throw away the key, and engrave his name on the lock.”

I laughed, the tension breaking a little. “I want it to be perfect.”

Shari sniffed. “You already got her heart, baby. Everything else is just glitter.”

“Glitter and a dramatic-ass entrance,” Daniale added. “Let me know how extra I can go. I’m tryna pull up with doves, a drone, and Beyoncé vocals if you let me.”

Chase walked in, leaned against the doorframe. “Y’all talking about locking in?”

I nodded. “You already know.”

He smirked, eyes flicking toward Dani for a second too long. “Took you long enough.”

“You next,” I shot back.

He choked on his drink. “Nigga, mind your business.”

We all cracked up.

The rooftop was straight out a dream. The city lights flickered like stars had fallen and found a new home on the pavement.

Fairy lights were strung across the rafters, glimmering like her smile.

A string quartet played a melody that sounded like everything I ever felt but could never put into words.

The breeze was light, warm, whispering promises as it kissed the back of my neck.

And there she was.

Walking in like the whole night had been waiting for her. Her heels clicked against the floor like the beat of a song only we knew. Her dress hugged her in all the right places, flowing behind her like it had a damn attitude. Her skin glowed. Her curls bounced. Her eyes? Locked on me.

She froze when she saw the setup. The flowers. The lights. The sign that read:

“Marry Me, My Love.”

I was already on one knee, heart bare, love louder than the city beneath us.

“Baby,” I said, takin’ her hand in mine, voice trembling but firm, “you are my first, my last, my always. I don’t just want you. I need you. Forever.”

Her lips quivered.

“I done prayed for you. Fought for you. Waited for you. Let me spend the rest of my life loving you.”

I pulled the ring from my pocket, a custom 3.5 carat oval-cut diamond set in white gold, sittin’ like royalty in that box.

“Marry me, Shaniya Stiles. Be my queen. My wife. My forever.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she nodded, too choked up to speak.

“Yes, baby,” she whispered. “Yes.”

Behind us, family and friends erupted. Daniale fanned herself with fake drama. “I’m not crying—y’all are crying!”

Shari cried like she’d been holding it in for decades. Chase just nodded, smiling.

I stood, slid the ring on her finger, and pulled her into the softest, deepest kiss we ever shared.

We were curled up, limbs tangled like roots of the same tree. I kissed her shoulder, forehead pressed to hers.

“You happy, baby?” I whispered.

She looked at me, eyes glossy, lips smiling.

“I’m perfect, Jacory.”

And I kissed her slow, like time ain’t matter, . . . like love was forever, . . . like nothing existed outside this moment.

Because now? We had forever.

And I was gon’ spend every second showing her just how deep love could go.