Page 27 of You Deserve Good Things

I should’ve known. I should’ve known. My wife had been acting funny for a few weeks, months even, talking ’bout “I’m just tired,” and “it’s something I ate.” Baby, how much bad food are you eating, the fuck?

She was waking up nauseous, falling asleep in the middle of the day, rubbing her stomach without even realizing it. I didn’t say nothing at first. But when she had the audacity to run out of a restaurant mid-bite just to throw up, I called in reinforcements.

Daniale, Chase, and I sat in the living room plotting. Shaniya’s ass wasn’t slick. She was in denial. So, we were gonna force the truth out of her pretty ass today.

Shaniya walked in, looking at us suspicious as hell. “Why the hell y’all sitting there looking like villains?”

Daniale smirked, holding a little pink bag.

“Sis, we need to talk.”

Shaniya folded her arms. “About what?”

Chase leaned back, feet propped up, grinning like a menace. “You tryna convince the world you just ‘tired’ when yo’ ass been passing out like a damn phone on two percent battery.”

I sat up, grinning. “And why every time I see you, you hold onto your stomach like an old lady after Sunday service?”

She squinted. “Jacory?—”

Daniale cut in, pulling out the pregnancy test. “Uh-uh, sis. Pee on this.”

Shaniya stared blankly.

Then she scoffed. “Y’all are so dramatic. I am not pregnant.”

I raised a brow. “Baby. Take. The. Test.”

She sucked her teeth, pouted her sexy lips, snatched the box, and mumbled all kinds of mean shit as she stomped her ass off to the bathroom. Daniale grinned. “That’s what the hell I thought.”

She was only in there for about five minutes. That was how long we waited. It was the longest damn five minutes of my life. When the door opened, Shaniya walked out slowly, looking pale. Her eyes were wide. Her mouth parted slightly, but no words came out.

Daniale jumped up. “Bitch, what does it say?”

Shaniya held up the stick. There were two lines. My wife was pregnant.

Chase jumped off the couch. “I knew it! Aye, my sister pregnant, nigga! I’m about to be an uncle in this muthafucka!”

Daniale screamed, grabbing her arms, shaking her like she’d won the lottery. “Auntie Dani in the building, bitch!”

I just grinned like my life had been completed. I walked up to her, pulled her into my arms, and kissed her forehead slowly.

“You are having my baby, my love,” I murmured, voice thick with emotion.

She let out a shaky breath. “I-I guess I am.”

I cupped her face. “Baby, I knew you were pregnant before you did.”

She smacked my chest. “Why the hell you ain’t say nothing then?”

I smirked. “’Cause this was funnier.”

Daniale and Chase fell out laughing.

The next day, I waited on my wife hand and foot before we went to the doctor.

She tried to fight it.

“Jacory, I can still walk, you know.”

I carried her to the car anyway. “Not today, my love. Today, you are a queen who is carrying a king or queen inside her.”

She rolled her eyes but kissed my cheek and smiled. “You are so damn extra, baby.”

“And you love it.”

We got to the doctor’s office, and I sat next to her like a soldier on high alert—ten toes down, hand-in-hand, breath on pause.

My palm was wrapped around hers so tight, I swore our lifelines braided together right then and there.

The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air, and that damn paper sheet on the exam table crackled like it had an attitude.

The tech smiled as she prepped the ultrasound, calm as hell—too calm for the madness that was about to drop.

“Alright, let’s take a look.”

Squish. Swirl. Smear.

The cold-ass jelly hit Shaniya’s belly like a slap of refrigerated regret. She hissed, wrinkling her nose.

“Why is it so cool, my God,” she muttered, shivering.

“Gotta wake ’em up somehow,” I joked, earning a side-eye.

The wand slid across her belly like a magic wand about to conjure chaos. The screen blinked on, and the little whirs and whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of heartbeats filled the room like a drumline at halftime. Then the tech paused. Tilted her head. Moved the wand again. Zoomed in.

I frowned. “What? What’s wrong?”

The tech tried to hold back a smile. That alone had me clutching invisible pearls.

She chuckled. “Oh, nothing’s wrong.” Then she hit us with it—the line. “You’re having triplets.”

Boom. Silence. Deafening, air-snatched, jaw-on-the-floor silence. You could’ve heard a damn fruit fly sneeze. My soul briefly left my body to file a formal complaint with the universe.

Then I shouted, “How many fuckin’ babies did you just say!”

Shaniya’s head snapped to me so fast I thought she pulled a muscle. Her eyes were wide as pie plates, her lips trembling.

“Triplets, Jacory. Triplets.”

I blinked once. Twice. Then I broke into the biggest, cheesiest, cockiest Kool-Aid grin this side of Texas.

“Shit, guess I shot the club up real good, huh?”

The tech straight up choked on a laugh. “I’ve seen a lot of reactions, but that one is new.”

Shaniya covered her face with both hands like she was hiding from her own womb.

“I am so embarrassed.”

I leaned over, kissed her cheek, still grinning like I won a championship.

“Baby, don’t be embarrassed. I did what had to be done.”

“Jacory—”

“I had to make up for lost time! That’s retroactive fertilization, baby!”

Her palm smacked my chest. “You are so ridiculous.”

“You knew what it was when you let me back in the game,” I whispered dramatically. “I don’t miss. I multiply.”

The whole house was lit like a block party during a blackout. Candles were burning throughout the house, and our family was packed tighter than a Popeye’s on Free Chicken Sandwich Day.

Shaniya stood in front of the TV like she was about to deliver a presidential address. She took a deep breath, resting both hands on her belly, which was already looking like it was housing a secret society.

“Alright, y’all,” she said. “So, we’re pregnant.”

The room blew up like Fourth of July fireworks.

“My baby is having a baby!”

Mama Shari hit her knees so fast I thought she was catching the Holy Ghost. Her wig shifted back an inch. “I need a tambourine and a towel!”

Papa Samuel stood there nodding slowly, eyes misty. “My baby girl is gon’ be a mama.”

My mama fanned herself so hard her earrings nearly flew off. “Lord, my son really stepped up. I knew the Lord wasn’t done with him yet!”

Chase popped up like he’d just won a fantasy football draft. “Aye, I’m gon’ be the favorite uncle, no cap. I’m getting my niece or nephew Jordans off rip .”

I grinned wider. This was the moment.

“Wait. Y’all, there’s more.”

The room fell silent like somebody unplugged the aux cord.

Shaniya side-eyed me, lips tight. “Jacory—don’t.”

I licked my lips slowly. Dramatically.

“We’re not just having a baby. We’re having three .”

Boom.

“Bitch, triplets!”

Daniale screamed like Beyoncé had just dropped an album.

Mama Shari gasped so loud I swear it echoed. “I need to sit down. No—stand up. No—lay down! Jesus! Blessed three times! What a mighty God we serve! What a mighty God we serve! Hallelujah!”

Chase jumped back like the floor was lava. “Aye yo, Jacory got that super sperm ! That boy got infinite ammo!”

I smirked, arms crossed, chest puffed. “Y’all already knew what it was. Don’t act brand-new.”

Shaniya rolled her eyes and smacked my arm. “Boy!”

Daniale looked shook. “So . . . three baby showers? Or one with three themes?”

Chase was pacing. “We gon’ need three cribs, three car seats, three of everything . I gotta refinance my life for these kids already. I can’t wait to spoil them, bruh!”

My mama, Justine, held her heart. “Ooh, y’all better let me move in. I ain’t never raised triplets before, but I’m ready for the challenge.”

Papa Samuel sipped his tea like it was whiskey. “Lord. . . I done prayed for blessings. But this? This is a full overflow, and I’m extremely grateful.”

I just stood there, soaking it in. All of it. The noise. The laughter. The chaos. Three little lives already shifting the atmosphere.

Shaniya’s belly stretched with life, glowing like the damn sun, and my whole spirit whispered one thing: “We really did that.”

And we had a whole lifetime ahead to prove it.

Later that night, it was just me and her. The noise had faded. The laughter from the living room was nothing but a distant hum, like the echo of joy dancing down the hallway. The world outside our bedroom was still spinning, but inside this little pocket of peace? Time stood still.

She laid her head on my chest like she was placing her whole world there, like my heartbeat was her favorite lullaby.

Her breath was soft, steady, warm against my skin, and my hands rested gently on her belly, which rose like a small hill blanketed in life.

Our babies—kicking softly beneath her skin, little drumbeats of a love too big for words.

“What are we gon’ name them, baby?” she whispered, her voice quiet, almost reverent, like the question itself was sacred.

I exhaled slowly, letting the moment settle deep in my chest like warm syrup. The dim light spilled across her face like melted honey, casting shadows that danced across her cheekbones.

Then I said it. The name that had been sittin’ on my soul like a prayer I never stopped whisperin’.

“If we have a boy . . . I wanna name him Silas.”

Shaniya’s breath caught like it had tripped on emotion. Her whole body paused—still, trembling, soft.

Her fingers tightened around mine, her grip shaking, steady all at once.

“Are you serious?” she whispered, her voice cracked open with tenderness.

I nodded slowly, eyes locked on hers. “He deserves it, baby. He saved you, and now his nephew gon’ carry his name. His strength. His legacy. Every time we say it, he’ll live again.”

She sniffled, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears, and nodded. “I love that.” Her voice cracked like it was carrying all the weight of grief and gratitude in one fragile sound.

I kissed her forehead, lingering there like a vow, like I was sealing a promise to protect everything we had built.

“And if they are girls?” I asked, my lips still pressed to her skin.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes searching mine, shining with the quiet kind of joy that felt like a secret between hearts.

She thought for a second then smiled—slow, wide, full of sunlight.

“Sawyer and Sage.”

And just like that, my heart expanded past capacity. I grinned like a fool, like a man who had won every kind of love lottery that existed.

“Sawyer, Sage, and Silas James,” I said slowly, tasting the names like poetry on my tongue. “Damn, baby. Our legacy sounds like a fucking movement.”

She giggled, a soft, shaky laugh that felt like wind chimes in my chest. I kissed her slowly, like she was the answer to every prayer I ever made, and the reason I kept making new ones.

“Baby, we built a whole family.”

She let out a breathy laugh, the kind laced with disbelief and wonder. “We really did.”

I looked down at her, this woman—my wife, my warrior, my muse—lying beside me with three little miracles nestled beneath her heart.

It was in this moment, this breath, this fragile pause between night and forever, that I realized I wasn’t just lucky to love her; I was blessed to live this life beside her.

She was my heartbeat in human form. My compass and my calm.