Page 23 of You Deserve Good Things

I swear on sweet tea and satin bonnets, I never felt stress like this in my damn life.

I had spent months planning this wedding like it was the damn Met Gala.

Every detail had been carefully mapped out with military precision—color palettes, floral arrangements, playlist order, who gon’ sit next to who so nobody ends up throwin’ hands at the reception.

I wanted a flawless fairytale, okay? Classy, candlelit, couture.

And instead? I was knee-deep in a shitstorm of pure chaos, sequins, and sacrilege.

I was at the bridal boutique, standing on that little white platform like a stressed-out mannequin, the tailor tugging at my dress while muttering under her breath like she was praying to the fashion gods for mercy.

My stomach felt like it was doing backflips, somersaults, and slow rolls all at once.

Meanwhile, Daniale was posted up on the couch like a hood princess with a grudge, scrolling her phone and looking like she was about to throw hands through the screen.

“You look stunning, Yaya.” Mama sniffled from the corner, her hand clutching her chest like the Spirit had touched her.

I gave her a tired smile. “Thanks, Mama. Just tryna keep it together before I turn into a damn soap opera meltdown.”

And that was when the devil himself rang my phone.

My wedding planner. Satan in stilettos.

“Hey, Shaniya, it’s about the venue . . .” she started, and I already knew. Her voice had that I-fucked-up-but-please-don’t-cuss-me-out tremble in it.

“What. About. The. Venue?” I said slowly, my voice calm like a storm that ain’t landed yet.

She exhaled. “They, um . . . double-booked you with a brunch-like baby shower for the same date.”

Double. Booked.

Daniale sat up like she had been summoned by Beyoncé herself. “Oh, hell no. You mean to tell me my best friend don’t have a damn venue anymore!”

I blinked. “You mean to tell me I planned this wedding for six months just to be evicted by a brunch and baby shower combo!”

“They’re offering to move it to a different location,” the planner said quickly, panicking. “It’s smaller but cozy! Intimate!”

“Intimate!” I screeched. “Girl, this ain’t a backyard barbecue! This is my wedding! This is silk gown, slow-dancing, ugly-cry vows type love! Not a ‘pass me a paper plate’ type situation, the fuck!”

Daniale yanked the phone out my hand. “Sweetie, I’ma say this with love. You’re fired. Fired like a microwave pizza. We’ll handle it from here.”

I just stood there, frozen in my dream dress, fighting tears like they owed me money.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse?

Two hours later, I get a call from the florist. She sounded chipper as hell, like she just delivered sunshine.

“Hey! We just sent over the orange tulips!”

Tulips. Orange .

“I asked for red roses and white lilies!” I said, eyes twitching like I had just downed four espresso shots and a prayer.

“Well, we thought tulips were a fresh twist?—”

“You thought wrong! What part of elegant romance screams traffic cone chic !”

Mama rubbed my back like I had just been told the Lord was testing me. “Baby, it’s gon’ be fine.”

I turned slowly. “Fine? Mama, I’m two seconds from having a ‘Bridezilla Snaps’ documentary special. This wedding is about to be featured on a crime podcast.”

My daddy, sitting in the corner, let out a chuckle. A low, sneaky, back-of-the-throat laugh like he was tryin’ not to get caught.

I whipped my head toward him. “You laughing?”

He shrugged. “You right, baby. It ain’t funny . . .” He paused then grinned. “It’s hilarious.”

I threw a throw pillow so hard at his chest he had to clutch it like it was a newborn baby.

And guess what? The chaos train still wasn’t done. By the time I made it back to the boutique for my final fitting? My dress wasn’t ready. The same dress I had dreams about. The same dress I picked with my heart in my hands.

“We’re terribly sorry,” the boutique owner said, looking like she was fighting for her job and her soul. “The alterations had a minor delay?—”

I slowly handed my earrings to Daniale.

“Hold these. I’m ’bout to catch a charge.”

Daniale grinned. “Ain’t no way God gon’ let you go to jail before the wedding, sis. Maybe right after.”

Just when I was about to launch into a full-blown, ugly cry meltdown, Jacory walked in.

The room stilled. I swear he walked in like a damn movie scene—slow-mo effect, beard perfectly lined, eyes laser-locked on me like I was the only woman in the world.

He took one look at my wild hair, wild eyes, wild heart, and said calmly, “How bad is it?”

Daniale threw a thumb over her shoulder. “She’s about five minutes from setting this boutique on fire.”

Jacory walked straight up to me and wrapped me in his arms.

His warmth hit my skin before his voice did.

“Baby. Breathe.”

I collapsed against him, fists in his shirt. “Jacory, this wedding is a disaster. The venue is gone, the flowers are wrong, the dress ain’t ready . . . How the hell am I supposed to—I’m ’bout to lose it.”

He stroked my back slowly, deliberately.

“Baby . . . look at me.”

I did.

He cupped my jaw, his voice a velvet vow. “None of that matters. You matter. You’re my bride, and all I need is you. I don’t give a damn if we say our vows in a parking lot. You’re the only thing I planned for.”

That man. That voice. That presence. Melted me.

That night he made love to me like I was the only thing keeping him breathing. He kissed away my panic. He whispered over my skin that I was his peace, his promise, his forever.

And the next morning, my whole tribe had activated and assembled like a squad of Black Avengers type shit.

Mama and Daddy hit the highway and drove for hours and found my dream flowers.

Chase pulled up on the venue like he was in an episode of Power , threatening lawsuits and snapping necks with professionalism.

Daniale walked into that boutique like she was the CEO of karma and justice and got my damn dress handled in record time .

And when I saw my people ride for me like that, I broke. I ugly cried in the middle of my kitchen. Snot hanging and everything.

Later, I caught Chase and Daniale low-key whispering.

He leaned into her like he had a secret just for her soul.

“So, you done playin’ with me?”

She blinked. “Boy, what?”

“You heard me. Go peep some rings, Dani.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You play too much.”

But she blushed so hard she looked sun kissed. And I knew. That man had her wrapped.

That night, I sat on the balcony in a silk robe, lookin’ up at the stars that watched me fall in love in every lifetime.

Jacory came behind me, arms wrapping around me like armor.

“You ready, my love?”

I turned, tears in my eyes, joy in my chest.

“For forever?”

He kissed my temple.

“Since I was twelve, baby. Since that day you stole my juice and my heart.”

And I laughed. Because even in the chaos, in the mayhem, in the wild whirlwind of wedding madness, I had peace.

Because I had him. And tomorrow, I’d be his wife. Forever and ever.