How to Fix a Broken Heart.

Prologue.

"What about George?" Jack smiles as he plays with my fingers. "I've always liked the name George."

I watch Jack tangle his fingers in mine and bite my lip nervously. "It's not the nicest that I've heard."

A small smile plays on Jack's lips. "Archie?"

I let out a defeated sigh, throwing our hands down into Jack's lap in the process. "We're never gonna agree on a name for our son."

"Ella," Jack chuckles, "we're only seventeen. We have plenty of time to think of a name for our future son. Relax."

I smile happily at the love of my life. He always says the right things, always reassures me when I get anxious and worry over stupid things that shouldn't even matter yet. "I know, but I can't wait."

"Me neither." Jack's cheesy grin shows off his pearly whites as he turns on his side to face me, never leaving go of my hand. "There's no one else I'd rather spend my life with."

My heart melts when his deep blue eyes meet mine, the same way it does every time he looks at me. A wave of electricity shoots from the pit of my stomach to the very tips of my fingers as his masculine hand delicately strokes my left cheek.

"Same here." I reply.

I've known Jack since I was just four years old. On the first day of nursery I was incredibly shy - too shy to make friends - so he offered me a biscuit and we shared his milk carton on the yard. He remained my one and only friend, just like I was his, until the first day of junior school.

We were both seven, Jack was soon to be eight, and we stood at the front of the steel gate holding hands. I told him that I was nervous I wouldn't make any friends and he told me not to be, because I was the best friend that he ever had. I met Sienna - my best friend - that same day, and I had Jack and rubbish football skills to thank for that.

The three of us spent every minute from the start of school until the end together, and then we went round each other's houses to play and have dinner. During our last year at junior school, just before my eleventh birthday, Jack introduced a new friend to us. Evan. He fitted in straight away, and it wasn't long before he and Sienna would run off and hold hands. I remember being upset that our friends didn't spend as much time with us anymore, and Jack pulled me to one side on the school yard and whispered in my year that he was secretly glad. He told me that he had missed it being just the two of us, and that when we started comprehensive school he would have something to give me. I told him off for making me wait, but it was worth it.

During the summer we had already arranged for my mother to pick Jack, Sienna, and Evan up and take them to school on our first day. My mother was more than willing to do this, she knew how shy I was and was nervous that I'd have a horrible first day because of it. Once my mum had dropped us off, she drove away with the most secretive of smirks spread across her face. When I questioned Jack - who was wearing a similar one - he simply shrugged. When we got put into our registers, I thanked my lucky stars that all three of my close friends and I were put into the same classes. We got told we would need the notebook and pen that we had been instructed to bring. I frowned - I wasn't told this. Seeing my face, Jack smirked and pulled out a spare, plain grey, notebook. When he handed it to me, I opened it to the first page ready to write down whatever I needed to. It was then that I noticed the note, sprawled across the top of the page in Jack's scruffy writing, asking me to be his girlfriend. To say I shrieked and fell off my chair would be an understatement. A humiliating, but true, understatement.

Our first school dance was organised when we were thirteen. It was there that we had our first proper kiss, which involved a lot of tongue and not enough knowledge. We were 'the cutest couple in the history of cute couples' that night, according to Sienna.

Sienna's news of Evan finally mustering up enough courage to ask her out when we were fourteen was overshadowed by Jack and I telling each other that we loved them for the first time. It was just as true then as it was when we first met, ten years before, and as it was now - three years later - and as it would be forever.

A few days after my sixteenth birthday we made love for the first time. He is the only person I've ever been with and each time is just as magical as the last. That night was the first night Jack had seen me so raw and vulnerable, and it only made his love for me grow.

Looking at him, I feel the same warm sensation in my chest now as I did on that very night. I want him - heart, mind and body - just as much now as I did then.

"Kiss me." It comes out as a breathless whisper, but I don't need to repeat myself.

My eyes gently flutter shut as Jack's face comes towards mine, his juicy lips capturing mine in a kiss that is so filled with passion my heart feels like it could explode at any time.

As his tongue swipes across my lips, politely asking for entrance, I pull him closer to me and let myself fall back on to his bed.

His hands roam every part of my body, just like mine do to his, soaking up every curve and every dimple. My right hand automatically finds its way to the thick, inch long, scar on the top of his left shoulder blade. The one that he had accumulated when he was fourteen and had tried climbing through his mother's window to retrieve the football that had just smashed it. It is at this moment that I realise I know his body just as well as my own.

Jack feels my lips smile against his and pulls away by just a centimere. He smiles back at me, knowing that my fingers purposely explored that scar of his, and knowing that I appreciate his faults such as this. "One day, Ella Louise Robertson, I am going to marry you."

I grin as I pull his head in to mine once again, kissing him as fiercly as I would if my life depended on it.

It is this night - this moment when I make love to him as if it is our first time - when I don't want his arms to ever let go of me, that I realise something.

I'm going to grow old with him, and I am gonna have my own fairy tale ending.