Page 50 of You Deserve Good Things

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 amnotpregnant.”

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.

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