Jack's Destiny

Chapter 1

It is a given fact that only twenty-five percent of people end up marrying their high school sweetheart.

Lucky is he to be a part of that lower percentage.

Too good to be true... If he blinked once, he feared she would disappear and turn out to be just a figment of his imagination. Though, every morning he awoke to that beautiful face lying right next to him with eyes closed and a tiny smile on its lips, he was reminded that she was more real than high income taxes.

His first breath of morning air refreshed his mind and cleared away the dream from the previous night. Squinty eyes rested on the curvy frame right beside him, her caramel skin hidden away by the thin layer of a fuzzy blanket. Underneath, her body slightly expanded and returned with each delicate breath. Long black hair situated in coiled Senegalese twists fell over her neck and shoulder, spilling onto the sheets that supported her head.

Memories of last night's passion plagued his mind. He could still feel the way her body heat rose off of her skin, still hear the sighs of pleasure escaping from her lips, still see the way her face expression changed when he entered her.

Good God, he was in love with her....

He took a deep breath and laid there in bed as he stared at the ceiling, waiting for a certain something to pass by. Getting out of bed was always the second hardest thing in the morning...

The bed creaked lightly as a slight movement upset its springs. He looked back over at his caramel delight, whose eyes were now half open. At first, they stared at a particular wrinkle in the sheets before flickering upwards to meet his gaze. As soon as they created eye contact, the corners of her lips stretched upwards, creating dimples in her cheeks. A nearly inaudible groan rumbled from her chest.

"Hey, honey," he greeted her, turning on his side to face his one love. When she gave another high-pitched groan, he planted a gentle kiss upon her forehead and stroked the little bit of exposed skin on her shoulder. They sat like that for a while until she closed her eyes again and settled back down into the folds of the bed. She was obviously exhausted from the wild side they both exhibited in the previous night. Well, she could sleep in all she wanted. It was the weekend, and neither of them had work.

He finally threw the blanket off of him, careful not to throw them off of her as well, and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He let them dangle there for a moment before giving them the duty of carrying two-hundred pounds worth of muscle and bones for the rest of the day. As he stood his full height, he stretched out each one of his muscles to fully waken them. Once the stiffness in his tissues decreased, he headed towards the master bathroom, where his white linen robe hung limp off of the door handle at the entrance. The feeling of Hue Heffner's style caressing his body was always a great start to his mornings.

After brushing his teeth, he used his long fingers to comb through his curly jet black hair until the 'bed' was taken out of it. With his morning toiletries done, he exited the master bathroom, chuckled at his still-sleeping wife, and made his way into the kitchen. The house smelled faintly of Thieves, an essential oil his wife loved diffusing every night to keep them in good health.

Ah, that health freak of a woman... Always pressuring him to eat fruits and vegetables, always trying to hide his peanut butter from him because of the calories, always giving him speeches about how his habits will one day end up being the death of him. At least she's great with herbal remedies, knowledgeable in message therapy and aromatherapy, and familiar with medicines from almost any culture. Screw paying high medical bills just for a careless doctor to write him an incorrect prescription and send him on his way. He's got all he needs at home when he needs it, even if it can be annoying as hell when he thinks he doesn't need it.

The Hue Heffner wannabe began to rummage through the large pantry, looking for his usual two ingredients to make his peanut butter Hawaiian rolls. As soon as his fingers clutched the giant tub of creamy peanut butter, he heard his wife's muffled voice yell from the room, "You better not be making those rolls again!!"

He rolled his eyes and continued to grab his ingredients. "Aren't you supposed to be tired or something?" he yelled back.

"Boo, you can't be eating the same thing every morning. Couldn't you have just waited until I woke up to make you an actual breakfast?"

"You were still sleeping. I know you, you would have stayed in that bed and we would be eating breakfast at lunch time." He grabbed a butter knife from the utensil drawer and began slicing into his sweet Hawaiian rolls.

"Not true! I was gonna get up in a bit... Jack, I can hear you making the sandwiches, stop!"

He banged his fists once against the counter in an exasperated way, but it was all in good playful humor. "Woman, can you please just let me enjoy my simple sandwiches??"

"I'm going to make breakfast, just give me a second to get up!" Jack couldn't help but roll his eyes at her languid response. He was surprised when he heard the bed creak out loud, an indication that she really was removing herself from her lazy state. Usually, she would just stay in bed until sleep was too tired itself to accompany her anymore. Maybe he should just start making his sandwiches every morning to make her get out of bed earlier...

The shuffling of feet against the cold hardwood floors alerted him of her entrance into the room. He struggled to keep himself from laughing at her, for she was quite the sight once out of the bed. Because of her neat braids, she never really had a bed-head, but her eyes were typically half closed and her movements were anything but graceful. Though, for some strange, outlandish reason, her groggy demeanor made him happy. She was still beautiful to him, and he was just thankful to be able to see this side of her every morning.

"You still don't look awake, even while you're walking over here."

"Shut up," she retaliated, lightly smacking his shoulder with the back of her hand once she got close enough. "I'm awake enough to make breakfast."

"Whatever you say, darling." He dug his teeth into the plain bread that he had recently cut into, resulting in him receiving a deadly glare from his half-asleep wife.

"Did you not hear anything I said a few minutes ago?"

He shrugged his shoulders and shoved the rest of the roll into his mouth as he stared back at her, a silent taunt. Well, it would have been silent if Destiny's husband didn't so happen to be one of those assholes who chewed with their mouths open.

"You know, I was gonna make you blueberry pancakes with a side of my smoked-paprika eggs and bacon, but it seems you really want your bread more." Raising her chin and giving a small "hmph," she turned to exit the kitchen.

"Wait, wait, no, honey, I was joking!" exclaimed Jack, grabbing his wife by both her arms and gently pulling her back towards him. "I want a big plate of your delicious eggs and pancakes." He pressed her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, slowly rocking the both of them side to side. "Can you please make me a plate?"

The sudden affection brought a grin to her face, lighting up her atmosphere. "Aw, fine. You're lucky you're so damned cute." At that response, he released her, keeping himself from arguing the fact that he was cute.

"O-... okay." He shook his head and gave a light-hearted laugh. "Do you want my help making anything?"

She beamed as she began to bring out different types of pans and bowls from the surrounding cabinets. "I would love your help. If you could help with the pancake batter, that would be great."

Jack and Destiny's voices soon filled the kitchen air, mingling with the sizzling of food and the clanking of pans.