Jack Arturie was in love. He had been for 30 years. Following a five year dating period Jack asked Tara Swain to marry him. Lucky for him, she accepted and they'd shared 25 years of wedded bliss. What's in a name? Well, she was his lovely swain for all the years they were together.
Tara was a little old school and believed the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. To this end she learned to bake and created sinfully sweet desserts for Jack at every meal.
Jack, of course, was in heaven and left unchecked he ballooned to well over 300 pounds. But Tara still loved Jack and continued to aim for his ever-increasing belt-sized stomach.
When out for lunch with Jack, his friends would express their concern over his sugar intake and ask if he'd ever asked his doctor to check for diabetes. Jack would simply laugh off their interventions as he tucked into a chocolate three-layer cake and washed it down with a Gatorade.
Snack-time was no different. Often Jack would down a half-dozen doughnuts or a bag of oreos in one sitting, as well as a six-pack of Coke, while watching his favourite TV show, Competition Cupcake, in the evenings
And at breakfast he'd start the day off right, in his estimation, with several bowls of Marshmallow Froot Loops, two large glasses of orange juice and a couple of cups of coffee, each doused with several soup spoonfuls of granulated sugar. Well not the orange juice. That would just be wrong.
One night at dinner, as Jack worked on his third chunk of Black Forest cake, lovingly prepared by Tara that afternoon, and watched a re-run of a Trump news conference from earlier that day, he keeled over and face-planted into the cake, dead.
After a brief investigation by police they ruled out CNN and had to agree with the coroner as to the cause of death: a sweet heart.
Tara's Two Word Tuesday prompt this week was swain/sweetheart. In addition to that, safe to say Tara didn't know Jack.