Page 16 of You Deserve Good Things

“But I also know you have a voice,” she added. “Even if you ain’t used it in a while.”

I swallowed hard. She stopped again, looked at me, arms folded. “So, here’s the deal, sis. You got two choices: You gon’keep runnin’ from the pain, or you gon’ start learning how to live through it.”

My lips parted. I wanted to speak. Needed to speak. Tried to speak. But the words didn’t come. Just that same emptiness in my throat. Like every sound I’d ever known was buried in Silas’s grave. She didn’t get mad, didn’t press me. She just shook her head and grinned like I was a challenge she already planned on winning.

“Aight. I’ll wait.”

Then she linked her arm through mine like we’d been besties since diapers.

“Until then? I’m gon’ talk enough for both of us.”

And that was exactly what she did. Every hallway. Every lunch. Every walk home. Daniale became my noise. My color. Mylight. I still didn’t know who I was without Silas. Still didn’t know how to live in a world where he wasn’t at the door yelling about how late I was.

But Daniale? She made sure I didn’t disappear. She made sure I didn’t fade. She made sure I was stillseen. And maybe—I was finally ready to be seen again. Even if I still wasn’t ready to speak.

The One That Got Away

Houston,Texas (Four Years Later)

It had been four years since I stood on that cracked-up block in the Lower 9th, watching the only girl I ever loved disappear out the back of a car window like a ghost I couldn’t chase. And even now—four years later—I still felt that shit like it just happened yesterday. Still, I couldn’t fucking shake her.

It was like somebody carved a hole outta my chest and left the wind blowing through it ever since.

I couldn’t forget the way she looked at me that day—like she wanted to stay, like she wanted me to stop her but couldn’t bring herself to say the words. I didn’t even get a goodbye. No last hug.No “take care, Jacory.” Just silence. And that silence? That shit still haunted me. That silence still sat in my chest like a brick I couldn’t cough up.

The block didn’t feel the same no more. Not since Silas died. Not since Shaniya left. New Orleans still moved the same—music still bumping outta somebody’s speakers, old heads still posted up playing dominoes, the smell of gumbo and crawfish still drifting through the air.

But it felt different now. It felt like the city had a hole in it. Like I had a hole inme.

The city moved on without her.

But I never did.

I tried. Lord knows I tried. I tried like hell to forget her—her eyes, that voice, that energy that felt like home and heaven all in one. Tried to patch the hole in my spirit with late-night distractions and women who looked good enough to make me forget—but none of them stuck.

I went through what I like to call The Shaniya Rebound Tour—messing with girls who had nothin’ to offer but a body and a lil’ conversation.

There was Kendall, with the big curls and even bigger ego, who thought sex and sushi dates made up for the fact she was allergic to emotional maturity.

There was Leah, who kept calling me “Jarell” no matter how many times I corrected her.

Then there was Tasha, who showed up to my mama’s house uninvited, tryna charm her with potato salad that tasted like wet air and disrespect.

And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I stayed. I stayed for the noise, for the moment, for the numbness. But none of them could measure up. They didn’t have that storm-in-a-glass energy Shaniya had. They didn’t have that mouth that cut like a knife but that spirit that soothed like lotion on a burn.

They weren’t her.

So yeah, I dipped. I ghosted. I walked away from every single one. Not ’cause I didn’t wanna love somebody else, but ’cause my heart was still in New Orleans, sitting on that porch, waitin’ on a girl who never looked back.

Now? I had a plan. Four years. That was how long I gave myself to get my shit together. And I did that. No handouts. No shortcuts. Straight hustle. I wasn’t the same broke-ass boy she left behind. I had my own business now. James Financial Group. I was a financial consultant. I was tryna build something real, something solid, something that made sure I never lost anything else important to me. I was cleaning up other folks’ money mess while makin’ sure I’d never again be the one begging life to give me something.

Now, my pockets were right. My business was up and running. I had a name in these streets—but not the kind that put a target on my back. The kind that made people respect me. I was able to keep my street credibility clean, just enough hood to still be respected, just enough polish to make people cut me a check. And that? That was all part of the plan.

I told myself I didn’t wanna find her till I was ready. Till I was the type of man that deserved her. I wasn’t gon’ show up on some broke nigga, empty-handed, begging-for-her-time type shit. Nah. When I saw her again? I was gon’ be a man she could trust. A man she could feel safe with. A man who could give her the world and back up every word I ever said to her.

Only problem? I had no idea where the hell she was. At first, I tried to find her. I kept tabs on her parents, asked around about her. But Shaniya? She was a damn ghost. She had no social media, no pictures, no posts about her living her best life in Houston. It was like she’d just . . . vanished. And that shit drove me crazy.

Because I needed to know, did she miss me the way I missed her? Did she ever think about me late at night, wondering if I was okay? Did she ever regret leaving? Or worse—did she forget about me completely?

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