Chapter 1 - The New Path

Isaac Choi woke up that morning with an incredible lightness in his chest. This was it—the first day of his new life as a writer. The world was his oyster, and he was ready to dig in.

He rolled over in bed to check the clock. 8:30am, decent enough. The smell of breakfast finally reached his nose, and he grinned. Celeste beat him to the kitchen. Isaac rolled out of bed and grabbed his plush robe from beside the nightstand, throwing it casually over his arms, and wandered out into the kitchen.

How he had bagged such a beautiful woman, Isaac was clueless. Celeste Choi, previously Celeste Sinclair, was Ivy-League educated and practically a model—long, tan legs, a curvaceous hourglass figure, bright blue eyes, and blonde hair dappled like a classic beach babe. She had been one of the lawyers that helped his old company, TalkFloor, create legal hiring contracts for their employees. They had bumped into each other one day after a consultation, and Celeste had spilled a coffee all over Isaac’s polo shirt. Promising to make it up to him, she invited him to dinner that night—and brought him a new polo shirt. And since that day they were inseparable.

But the Celeste standing before him was not the driven, powerful lawyer. Instead it was his wife, with messy bed head, loose pajamas and a cup of coffee reading “Ask Me About My Other Mug.” And she was his favorite version of herself right in that moment.

“Morning sweetie,” said Celeste, turning to look at him as he entered. “Woke up before my alarm, so decided I would make us some breakfast.” Celeste dumped a rich yellow, overflowing omelet onto a plate with half a dozen strips of bacon. “How’s it feel officially being out of TalkFloor? Your first morning as a non-employee or investor.”

“It feels… amazing,” Isaac said after a moment, with a grin. “And it’s gonna be more amazing once I try that omelet! What the hell did’ja fill it with?”

Celeste pushed the plate across their kitchen island to him with a fork in one hand. “Oh, this and that from the fridge. You know, mushrooms, onion, tomato, spinach, bacon, sausage, garlic…”

Isaac’s attention drifted to his plate as she rattled off ingredients. He plucked the fork from her hand and carved off a piece of the massive omelet. Immediately on hitting his mouth, he was blown away by the intensely rich flavors of the meats and cheeses, the refreshing soft crunch of vegetables, the tender golden egg itself. He quickly had a second, then third bite. Each was better than the last, satisfying a craving for oil and salt he didn’t realize he possessed.

“So? Do you like it?” Celeste’s voice cut through his focus, bringing him back to reality with a start.

“Oh my god, it is a-mazing,” Isaac said. “You’ve always been so good at cooking. Imagine how much better you could get just because you’ll have me around all the time to practice recipes on!”

She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand modestly. “Oh stop if, it’s just a omelet.”

“An omelet made with love,” he corrected. She rolled her eyes but smiled, trying to hide the amusement behind a sip of coffee. Isaac paused and said, “Are you really sure you want to do this? I mean, basically quit your job… just to be home with me. I know how much you love the firm, and I don’t want to deprive you of that just because I’ll be working from home instead of out.”

“I’ve told youuu,” Celeste whined. “This really IS what I want. I’ve saved money for years, and so have you, so that eventually one of us could be the stay-at-home spouse.” She reached across the counter and took one of his hands in hers. “But I want to support your aspirations as a writer, in a real way, by being a homemaker for you. I can’t say I’ll want to forever,” Celeste added, “but by the time your first bestseller hits the market, you won’t even need me because you’re being wined and dined so much.” A grin here, another giggle. “That’s alright with me though. I want to be here for your now.”

Isaac felt his eyes sting with tears a little, but he sniffed them back. “Celes, no guy could want a better woman than you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.”

He cut some more off his omelet and chewed it up thoughtfully. “Hey, any chance I could have some coffee?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” She chirped. “May I present to you… THE best cup of coffee I’ve ever made.” Celeste turned back to the cooking counter and picked up a massive glass mug, filled with creamy coffee and decorated in sauces and whipped cream. “I tried to remake the peanut butter cup latte you liked so much at work, and I think I did a damn good job.”

Isaac’s eyes widened and he accepted the cup, immediately taking a few massive gulps. Holy shit, it did taste like the work cafe drink! Isaac couldn’t help but hum in pleasure, taking several more swigs before stopping to talk. “That IS incredible,” he said. “I will definitely need you to keep me supplied with that during my first novel.”

She laughed. “If that’s all I have to do, no sweat.” But he did know that she had basically agreed to cook all the meals every day during “work days” of his choice, and he would make at least breakfast and dinner on one of his days off—and these were her own stipulations! So he was sure there would be more food and drink magic passing through his lips than he could even imagine.

Having Celeste cook for him used to be a rare treat because of her busy lawyer schedule. Now Isaac could expect it every single day? This was truly heaven on earth.

•••••

“Breakfast� �� ran from 8:30am when he woke up until about 10:45am. Isaac wasn’t sure how he had managed to pass over two hours without noticing, but Celeste seemed to be enjoying herself so much cooking that he wanted to keep her happy. So after a massive omelet and a latte nearly three cups in size (and the bacon strips), he had felt perfectly ready to go upstairs to his study and get started on writing for the day. Celeste wasn’t quite done with him yet, though.

“Wait, I totally forgot, I got sourdough bread yesterday and some jam from the farmer’s market. You want some toast?” Celeste held up the loaf of bread and the jam jar, and he was sold already. He wasn’t sure how long they spent eating toast and jam, but he definitely had another peanut butter cup latte along the way. By the time they finished off the loaf, she also “remembered”some croissants from the market and he ate surely a half-dozen of those too.

By the time they worked through the baked goods, Isaac leaned back in his bar chair and put his hands on his belly. “God that was good,” Isaac said. “Food tastes great when you have so much time to eat it.”

Celeste had already begun cleaning up the scattered array of dishes from the kitchen island, starting a basin of water to wash them. “That’s what I think, too.” She came around and kissed him on the forehead, then patted his belly gently. “Why don’t you go take a nap? So then when you get up you’ll be super energized to write, right?”

Isaac couldn’t deny that a nap sounded like the best course of action. His fully belly pressed against his plus robe, putting strain on the tied belt. He reached down to loosen the belt and immediately felt an inch of give, pushing the robe apart just enough for a glimpse of his belly and tank top between the sides.

“Yeah… I think I will sweetie, thanks. What are you gonna do?”

“Oh, I’m gonna do these dishes, then I think I’ll watch a few cooking shows to give me some ideas for tonight.” She smiled sweetly at him. “But don’t worry about me, Mister Writer Man! I’m gonna be happy as long as you are.”

He blew her a lazy kiss, then hefted himself up from the island chair. He walked back to the bedroom, holding his robe sides together to keep it from sliding off completely. When Isaac made it back to the room, he pulled off his robe but paused a moment to absorb the view.

From top-down, Isaac couldn’t see his bulge for the swell of his stomach. Noticing this, he padded over to the attached bathroom and observed himself in the floor-length mirror.

Isaac was never a fit guy to begin with. Always was the “chubby kid,” even though he was at one time a hot commodity for college soccer teams. His naturally round face often threw people off of his East Asian heritage, since the standard image of East Asians usually showed slim and well-defined features. Being also slightly shorter than the average man at about 5’7”, the weight he carried tended to be more obvious. Working in a tech startup also didn’t help this, with long hours and late nights with fast food runs. But he HAD slimmed up just around the time he met Celeste—and had been his lowest weight in adulthood at their wedding day, 2 years ago. So he had a sort of in-between body type, not defined enough to be called fit but not mature-looking enough to have a “dad bod.”

Today however, he looked like he was sporting a beer gut. Isaac hadn’t seen himself like this before: a rotund swell from beneath his ribs down to his hips, giving him the appearance of being very indulgent in alcohol. It pushed the white tank top up and exposed just a sliver of his belly’s soft underside. Isaac slipped his hand under this exposed area and cupped it lightly, allowing himself the chance to feel its heft a different way.

His fingers sank into a thin layer of fat, then felt the solid pressure of a stuffed stomach beneath. Even the act of bending in to put his hand under his belly made him feel crunched, and slightly short of breath. Isaac was STUFFED. And he had the sense that he should be regretful, or ashamed, but he wasn’t.

Because the food was SO good. If a meal of truly enjoyed, then whatever calories you may consume don’t matter as much as the happiness of that moment. And that happiness was Celeste’s excitement to cook food—for him. Isaac rubbed up his belly, pushing back the tank top to expose the burgeoning dome. If walking away from every meal stuffed like a teddy bear made Celeste feel fulfilled, then by god would he eat.

Isaac finally turned away from the mirror and waddled over to the bed. He rolled heavily onto the mattress, pulled the fluffy blanket over himself and his spherical belly, and drifted off to sleep stroking the side of his tummy.