Between Heartbeats and New Beginnings

Chapter 1

Elena Merrick couldn't believe it—now that same-sex marriage was legal, she found herself swept into the relentless tide of “you need to get married” from her family and friends.

They’d even set her up with a guy. A pretty good-looking one too with a body that could make anyone do a double-take. He used to be a cop but got knocked around a bit, so now he was a beat cop, patrolling the neighborhood.

Elena had a thing for uniforms, and it turned out he liked what he saw in her too. With pressure from both their families weighing down on them like an anvil, they decided to just go with the flow and tie the knot. They agreed on a year-long trial marriage—if things didn’t pan out, they’d split amicably, no hard feelings.

But as the year rolled to a close, Elena turned to him and said, “Arthur Giles, I think we should divorce.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” a friend asked Arthur with wide eyes.

“Yep,” replied Arthur, unfazed. “She wants out, I’m not about to hold her back. We just respect her decision, right? If it doesn't work out, we can always try to get back together later.”

Their relationship started off as two people living under the same roof, keeping things cordial and polite. But as the days turned into months, something shifted between them—what initially felt like a business arrangement morphed into something much deeper. They grew from respectful roommates to lovers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

And amid the trials and tribulations of life, they were learning exactly what it meant to find love where they least expected it.

Chapter 2

When the Hawthorne Transporters arrived, Elena Merrick was on the phone. Two of her students had been caught up in a whirlwind of teenage romance, and now their parents were embroiled in a shouting match, each side demanding answers. The boy, Roland Percival, had escaped to the bathroom to call her for help.

“Elena, I need you!”

Roland was the class president—a tall, handsome kid with straight A’s. His girlfriend, Seraphina Rowan, was his equal; she was the artsy type and always landed in the top five of their class. They were the quintessential power couple, admired and envied by their peers.

As the homeroom teacher, Elena usually turned a blind eye to such youthful infatuations. After all, she remembered what it was like to be their age—hormones raging and hearts racing—as long as these crushes didn’t interfere with their studies, it wasn’t a big deal.

But the parents had a different story.

Every weekend, the couple had been seen studying together at the Eldoria Public Library, and Seraphina's parents had taken their concern to an absurd level—deciding to tail their daughter to find out if she was, in fact, in a relationship. They had caught the kids in the act, holding hands, and that was all it took to ignite the parental firestorm.

Elena had heard about the planned family meeting to sort things out, but since the parents hadn’t reached out to her, she felt it was best to keep her distance.

“What’s the deal with your parents?” she asked Roland as she leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Arthur Giles direct the movers as they handled her belongings.

“They can't even agree on who’s at fault. They’re stuck arguing over whether I’m seducing her or if she’s leading me on,” Roland replied, exasperated.

Elena rubbed her temples. If it were any other day, she would have intervened—calmed the parents down and offered some advice to the kids. But today was different; she was in the middle of moving—really, she was separating from her husband. She couldn't just leave Arthur to deal with everything while she took off to play mediator.

Though Elena knew that even if she chose to step in, Arthur wouldn’t mind at all.

“Here’s what you should do. Have your dad call me. I’ll talk him down,” she proposed.

“Uh, Elena, he’s really angry right now. By the time I get home, my backside is going to regret ever crossing him. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Aren’t you the one who asked me for help?”

“Yeah, but can’t you just come over and sneak Seraphina and me out?”

“No can do,” Elena said firmly. “I can’t leave.”

Arthur came in carrying his suitcase while the movers continued to take her things out. As he reached the door, he glanced back at her once.

“Wrap it up, I can’t hang around all day,” she called out.

After ten minutes of talking, Elena had finally calmed down Roland’s dad and convinced him to take on the other three parents.

Unless you’ve experienced it firsthand, you can’t really grasp that feeling of, “No matter how much power or money you wield, when teachers speak, parents listen.” Elena, despite being in her thirties, was a well-respected teacher in the city. She’d guided her first senior class to produce a state SAT/ACT star, and since then, parents had bent over backward trying to get their kids into her class. The trust she had cultivated with the parents and students meant her words carried weight.

Once she sorted that out, Elena hung up and took a look around—half her things were already gone, and it hit her just how much of her life with Arthur had invaded this home over the past year.

“Are we almost done?” Arthur asked, stepping back inside.

“Pretty much,” Elena replied, making her way to the bedroom. “Just one last box of books.”

“Right, I remember you mentioning that. You sure you don’t need help?”

“I’ve got it. You take a breather.”

Elena walked into the bedroom and grabbed the small box, testing its weight. It was heavier than she expected.

“I’ll get it,” Arthur insisted, but Elena shook her head.

“No way. This is too heavy for you,” she reminded him, recalling how he’d injured his arm subduing a thief a few days prior.

With a shrug, he stepped aside and let her carry it down.

Once everything was cleared out, they made their way to the living room, where Elena stacked the final box on top of the other packed items. It felt symbolic—one last physical representation of her life with Arthur.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” she said, turning to him. Arthur had worked a night shift and looked worn out, still putting on a brave face for her.

“Sure thing. You too,” he said, extending a hand for a handshake which she accepted.

“I’ll be heading out now,” Elena said, her heart heavy. “And if anything comes up, don’t try to be a hero. Safety first.”

Arthur nodded, stepping back to give her space as she climbed into her car.

As the moving van rolled away, Elena sat squeezed between two movers, glancing back at Arthur waving goodbye.

He slowly became a tiny figure in the rearview mirror, and a pang of melancholy hit her.

Just like that, her marriage was over. One year didn’t seem long, but in many ways, it felt like an eternity.

Chapter 3

Elena Merrick felt a lingering dullness settle in her chest as she considered her marriage to Arthur Giles. They had always treated each other with mutual respect, a politeness that bordered on the sterile. Yet that’s not the kind of union she envisioned; to her, marriage was a vessel. It should be filled with warmth and excitement—some couples had rich, potent wines while others had sweet sodas. But hers? It was just tepid water, shockingly bland.

Elena had never feared the mundane. What she truly dreaded was the absence of love. A marriage devoid of passion felt disingenuous and exhausting. Like they had agreed on at the outset, perhaps it was best to call it quits. She merely needed to put it into words.

On an ordinary evening, after finishing dinner, she glanced at Arthur and simply said, "Arthur, let’s get a divorce."

He paused for a mere heartbeat before nodding, the agreement tumbling out with startling ease.

His nonchalance left her momentarily dumbstruck, struggling to process the gravity of what had just transpired.

Before marrying, Elena had lived with her parents, but post-divorce, she opted for independence. She rented a small one-bedroom apartment near her job, primarily to avoid her mother’s relentless commentary about her life choices.

The movers from Hawthorne Transporters helped her haul boxes into her new place, filling the modest living room to the brim. After settling the payment, she offered them each a pack of smokes and watched as they left. As she turned back toward her new home, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

"Elena, help!" It was her student, a little troublemaker.

There was no time for her own misery; she rushed for a cab to Eastbridge Guard Post, her heart still heavy with thoughts of her fresh breakup. She could have taken a moment to grieve, but instead, she was thrust into the chaos of her students’ lives.

"Roland Percival! What on earth happened this time?" she demanded as she led him out of the guard post.

He slumped under her gaze, his youthful face a tapestry of frustration. "I haven't eaten! Can we just go home?"

"Not if you expect me to watch you sulk on the curb. Did your parents even know you were gonna fight?"

"I told them I was with you!”

Elena sighed and pulled him up. "Alright. Let’s get food first, then we can sort your teenage drama."

They ended up at The Golden Griffin Inn, where Roland attacked his plate like he hadn’t eaten in days.

"Elena, why can’t people who love each other just be together?" he asked through a mouthful of fries, the naïveté of youth palpable in his tone.

She chuckled, shaking her head. Was he even mature enough to grasp the concept of love? She knew how to tread carefully around the thin line of teacher-student conversation. "You should rephrase that. Try saying, 'Why can't I and Seraphina be together?'”

"But why not? We love each other!"

"Because you’re still kids. It’s not just about infatuation; love comes with responsibility, and right now?" She sighed. "You two aren’t ready for that."

He mulled over her words, his brow furrowed in concentration. Elena looked away, catching her own reflection in the restaurant window.

She was several decades in, but she could still pass for younger. Her hair was cropped neatly, her thin frame adorned with delicate spectacles, giving her an air of quiet intelligence that was currently marred by exhaustion. The past few weeks of searching for a new place and dealing with chaotic students had robbed her of proper rest.

"Elena, did you get divorced?" Roland’s sudden question jolted her out of her thoughts.

Caught off guard, she nearly choked on her drink. "Who told you that?"

Roland nodded, more serious than before. "I saw you and Gwendolyn Fletcher come out of Crown Civil Registry a few days ago. Don't tell me that was just to update your voter registration?"

Smart kids were both a blessing and a curse. "Let’s not dwell on that, alright? Every marriage has its struggles that outsiders can't see." She flicked his forehead lightly with her index finger. “And it’s none of your business.”

"Did he hit you?” Roland’s dark eyes were piercing, full of concern.

"Stop that! You're being ridiculous," she countered, but warmth flooded through her as she saw the protective spirit within him.

"Then why wear the ring?" His tiny accusation made her glance down at the simple gold band that had become almost a second skin, engraved with their names, a reminder of what used to be.

Elena shifted the focus back to her drink, downing her Frappuccino. "Finish eating," she urged, wanting to change the subject.

Later that evening, she dropped Roland back home, reiterating the importance of not clashing with his parents. They had their whole lives ahead of them; if he loved Seraphina, he should focus on his studies and build a future where nothing could stand in their way.

As he waved goodbye, he said, "Elena, broken hearts can heal, and I promise, better men are out there waiting!"

She couldn’t help but laugh softly, gently shooing him away.

As she made her way home alone, Elena found her gaze fixated on her ring as she made her way through the dark streets. Eventually, she snapped a quick picture under the pale moonlight and sent it to Arthur.

“Forgot to return this to you,” she typed, heart pounding in an unfamiliar way.

It felt like ages before his text trickled in, just five simple words: "You keep it for now."

The finality of it seemed to settle within her, sending a cascade of emotions she thought she had put to rest flickering back to life.

Chapter 4

Elena Merrick had never lived alone before.

In the years before marrying Arthur Giles, she’d lived with her parents. After the wedding, it was just the two of them, as expected. Their families weren’t rolling in money, but they weren't struggling either—more like comfortably middle-class. Arthur had bought the two-bedroom apartment before they tied the knot. It wasn’t big, and they were still chipping away at the mortgage, but at least it was theirs.

At the time Elena moved in, she had plans to tackle the mortgage together. But Arthur said, “Let’s wait a year to figure that out.”

At first, she saw the wisdom in that. If things didn’t work out and they ended up divorced, contending over mortgage payments would only complicate matters. Looking back, she was grateful for his hesitation. That money would’ve been a whole mess to sort out. If she insisted on reclaiming her share later, it would likely turn contentious; if she let it go, it felt wrong given that she still had a "stake" in the place, especially if Arthur moved on with someone else.

That evening, Elena returned home with her head swirling with thoughts. Fumbling at the door, she finally located the small key that still needed a keychain.

As she opened the door, darkness greeted her.

“Hellooo?” she called out, elongating the sound as if expecting some sort of response. Nothing. Just silence. She forced a laugh to break the awkwardness and flicked on the lights. The apartment came alive with a dull glow. She closed the door and changed into slippers, then turned her gaze toward several boxes stacked haphazardly, frustration creeping in.

She hated unpacking.

During their marriage, she’d pressured herself into being this perfect housewife—cleaning every Saturday, trying out new recipes she gleaned from her mother. But that wasn’t really her. Elena had always been a person of two faces: one for the public, the bubbly, capable side (let's call it Side A), and another that took over around Arthur (Side B).

It was kind of like those little celebrity personas—they appeared polished and put together on camera, but behind the scenes, it was a mess.

That first year of marriage was probably the most industrious she’d ever been. When weekends rolled around, if she had nothing planned at school, she’d whip the place into shape, and every chance she got, she’d cook for Arthur—even if he barged in late from work, she’d still rouse herself to whip up a late-night snack.

Arthur was usually willing to pitch in too, often tackling chores alongside her. It sounded like a lovely partnership, but underneath, Elena felt drained. The exhaustion wasn’t from her overzealous cleaning or midnight cooking sessions; it came from the underlying distance between them. Married but strangers. Sure, they shared a bed, yet holding hands felt awkward. At first, Arthur would kiss her goodbye and hello like clockwork, but over time, those little gestures faded. It felt like they were more a performance than a couple—which might explain why divorce was now on the table.

Arthur was a decent guy. Even now, Elena still thought so. They just didn’t have that spark anymore.

After wearing herself out over the past year, she really didn’t want to face those boxes tonight. She rummaged through a few, grabbed what she needed, and decided to forsake the rest. She could deal with them after a good night’s sleep.

Once in the bathroom, she washed up and collapsed into bed. She glanced at her hand in the moonlight, noticing her wedding ring still shining. She should've put it in a small box by now and saved it for the day she ran into Arthur again.

Her fingers were delicate and long, still lovely even after years of chalk dust from teaching.

With a sigh, she thought about how unlucky Arthur was—not having held her hand enough for someone with such touchable skin.

Meanwhile, after Elena moved out, Arthur crashed into bed, utterly spent. He was the kind of guy who could easily sleep until noon, but today was different. By ten, he was wide awake.

Elena usually wasn’t home by this time anyway, but she always left a warm meal waiting for him, along with a note urging him to warm it up. That had become their routine over the past year. Today? There was silence instead.

He scrolled through his phone in bed, bored with nothing new happening, and felt a familiar cold creeping into his body—a headache forming, like a signal that something wasn’t right.

With a sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, surveying the emptiness of the apartment. With no appetite for a headache remedy, he rummaged through the house, straightened up a bit, changed the sheets, and around eleven, he ordered takeout.

While waiting for the delivery, he flipped through the channels on the TV and took a bite of his food. His mind wandered to the past year, and how little time he’d actually spent with Elena. They hadn’t even gone on that honeymoon they promised each other. It struck him as deeply unfair.

Just as he finished up, he bumped into Matilda Elowen from downstairs. She was lugging a heavy grocery bag and greeted him with a bright smile. “You heading off to work? Last time little Elena told me I made the best fennel ravioli, so I’m making it again. Tell her to stop by for dinner tonight.”

Arthur helped her with her bags, standing at her door with a polite smile. “She’s got school stuff today. She'll probably be home late. Go ahead and enjoy it without her.”

Chapter 5

“You two are always so busy,” Matilda Elowen said with a playful pat on Arthur’s shoulder. “I’ll just leave some for him, put it in the freezer. When he’s back, he can swing by and pick it up. You guys are always too lazy to cook; just throw a pot of ravioli on the stove.”

Arthur Giles nodded his thanks, a thought creeping into his mind about how well-liked Elena Merrick was.

Though his shift didn’t start until four, Arthur couldn’t stand being cooped up at home. He rolled into the precinct just after two.

“Whoa, what’s got you in so early today, boss?” Lawrence Edgar, who had only joined last year, shadowed Arthur wherever he went, calling him ‘boss’ as if he were training to be his apprentice.

“Everything okay?” Arthur sank into his chair, pouring himself a glass of water. He had a pounding headache and had just picked up some cold medicine at the pharmacy on his way in.

“Same old story with that Alfred Cedric on Three Lakes Street—beat up his wife again. We’ve spent the whole morning untangling this mess.”

“Well, that is definitely more than ‘same old,’” Arthur replied, downing the pills and setting his cup aside. “What did his wife say this time?”

“She’s not leaving him,” said Lawrence, slapping the table in frustration. “I just don’t get it. Why do some women hang on to jerks like that?”

Arthur simply shook his head.

Opening his desk drawer, he stashed the medicine away and caught a glimpse of the ring inside.

There was a rule against wearing jewelry at the precinct, even wedding bands—something he usually removed while on duty but always slipped back on when he got home. It was a small ritual, a reminder he had someone waiting for him.

Yet this morning, in his haste to deal with Elena moving out, he had forgotten it, his mind racing with thoughts of her.

He picked up the ring, rolling it between his fingers. Lawrence leaned in, a teasing grin on his face. “So, boss, what’s the scoop? You and the missus really splitting up?”

Arthur shot him a glare and tossed the ring back into the drawer. “Mind your own business.”

Lawrence loved gossip. When he found out Arthur had married a man, he was floored. After all, it was just around the time that same-sex marriage had become legal, and their department was buzzing with excitement.

Lawrence only met Elena a handful of times but recalled her bright smile, a high school teacher with a warm demeanor. Back then, Lawrence had jokingly said he’d send his future kids to her for tutoring.

Who knew that by the time he was ready for kids, his ‘missus’ would already be an ex?

“Come on, I can see it on your face. You really gonna let her go?”

“Got that data you asked me to compile yesterday. It’s all ready.”

Lawrence clamped his mouth shut at that.

“Time to get to work,” Arthur said, rapping his fingers against Lawrence’s forehead with a light tap before heading off to the restroom.

The truth was, he was having a hard time letting go. Elena was such a fascinating person; who wouldn’t miss her?

But there were too many issues between them. Instead of wearing themselves out, he thought it best to file for divorce, stripping their relationship down to a honesty without that marriage facade.

Later that evening, around eight, Arthur got a message from Elena on Messenger along with a photo—her delicate finger adorned with the same wedding ring he usually wore.

He stared at the picture for what felt like ages, memories of Elena flooding back.

Elena had five tiny moles on her fair skin, each no bigger than a sesame seed, perfectly scattered across her body: one at the corner of her mouth, one by her index finger, one on her earlobe, one over her heart, and one sweetly nestled on her soft right hip.

Arthur knew Elena inside and out; she just didn’t know it.

She casually mentioned forgetting the ring, and he put off replying until his shift ended, sending her a simple, “You can keep it for now.”

For now, as if it still had some future purpose.

The night at the station was surprisingly calm, a rare moment of peace.

Just before clocking out, Lawrence piped up, “Hey, let’s grab a drink?”

“Not a chance.”

“Come on, come on,” Lawrence tugged on Arthur’s arm, urging him along. “Let’s change and hit up the bar. It’s on me!”

If it were any other night, Arthur would have snarked back and headed home, but tonight felt different—there was nobody waiting at home for him, so why not?

Once they changed out of their uniforms, Lawrence drove them to The Silver Swan Tavern—a dive they used to frequent.

Lawrence ordered a round while Arthur stuck with soda.

“You know, you carry yourself like a boss everywhere, but in bars, you turn into a coward.”

Arthur wasn’t scared—he just had a low tolerance for alcohol. Back when he and Elena celebrated with friends after their wedding, she had to take on the role of his personal bodyguard against booze.

But Arthur brushed off Lawrence’s jibe; it was just the usual banter.

“Seriously, are you really going through with the divorce?” Lawrence’s tone shifted, genuine concern laced through his words. “I mean, you used to scream at me when I first joined, but ever since you got married, I swear, you’ve mellowed out. You guys had something special, and now you’re just tossing it aside?”

Arthur sipped his drink, mulling over the memories of Elena.

“Look, I get it—she’s a gem of a person. How can you just throw that away?”

Arthur finished his drink in a swift gulp, chuckling. “I’ve divorced her in a way, but she’s not gonna get snatched up by someone else anytime soon.”

“Wait, what’s that supposed to mean?” Lawrence’s eyes widened, concern morphing into panic. “We’re cops, boss! You can’t break the law!”

Arthur chuckled again. “Relax, kid. What I meant is, I plan on getting her back, down the line.”

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