Page 23 of You Deserve Good Things

“You left, Yaya. And I let you. I let you walk away because I thought maybe that’s what you needed to heal. But you know what I needed?” I leaned in, voice rough now. “You.”

Her lips trembled. “You don’t know what I’ve been through . . .”

“I don’t care,” I said, my thumb brushing her cheek. “Whatever it is, we gon’ walk through it together.”

My voice broke.

“You mean more to me than air. Than blood. You in every beat of my chest. Every time I exhale, your name’s in it. You are the reason I kept goin’, baby. You are the reason I built myself up.”

I took her hand and placed it on my chest.

“You feel that? That heartbeat? That’s been yours since we were kids. Ain’t nobody else ever had it.”

Her eyes filled, spilling tears she didn’t even try to catch.

“This time,” I whispered, leaning in, pressing my forehead to hers. “This time, I’m not letting you go. I don’t care what happened. I don’t care what you think you don’t deserve. I’m gon’ spend the rest of my life showin’ you that you deserve every good thing this world got to give.”

She didn’t speak.

But she didn’t run.

And in that moment? That was enough.

For now.

But I was coming for all of her. Her heart. Her fears. Her forever. Because love like this? It wasn’t made to be temporary.

It was made to last lifetimes.

The Fearof Love

Jacory’s words sat heavy in my chest, clinging to me like they had roots—roots with memories, promises, and prayers tangled up in ’em. Like they’d dug in deep, takin’ up space where my pain had once lived.

“This time, baby, I’m not letting you go.”

I wanted to believe him. God, I did. But believing? Believing meant letting go of the fear. And fear? That bitch had moved in, redecorated my insides, threw up curtains of doubt, and laid carpet made of grief. It didn’t just settle—it nested. Like a crow on a wire, watchin’, whisperin’ lies: You don’t get forever. You barely got now. You ain’t worthy of what you lost.

Especially Silas.

My grip on the steering wheel turned into a death hold. The plastic groaned beneath my fingers—crick, crack, pop—like even it was begging me to let go. My heart? It was acting a damn fool, slamming against my ribs like it was running from somethingBoom-boom. Boom-boom. Each beat a scream, a memory, a regret.

I should’ve left. My foot hovered over the gas pedal, but I stayed planted like my car had turned into a confessional booth and I couldn’t drive away until I came clean. But clean was never something I felt. Not since that night.

Behind me stood Jacory, not just a memory, not just a boy with a smile that could light up the darkest corner of my spirit. A man now. Solid. Steady. And still staring at me like I hung the damn moon.

His love had grown like wild ivy—wrapped around your ribs and bloomed even when you neglected it. It had patience. Strength. And fire. But I didn’t know if I was built to be loved like that. I didn’t know if I was still made of the right kind of steel, or if I was just shattered glass held together with invisible tape.

I didn’t even know I was cryin’ till I caught myself in the rearview mirror. My eyes were swollen, bottom lip quivering, cheeks streaked with tears like little roadmaps of pain.

Brrrrt-brrrt.

My phone vibrated so loud, I jumped. It was like it slapped me outta my spiral.

Of course, it was Daniale.

I picked up like I was ready for the sermon she had loaded in her throat.

“Bitch, you better not be sittin’ in that car lookin’ like a bootleg Lifetime movie extra!”

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