Between Heartbeats and Second Chances

Chapter 1

Isabella woke up early, sitting on the edge of her bed, feeling a little under the weather. She worried about all the responsibilities at The Healers' Guild and the impossibility of taking a day off. Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around her from behind.
“Ah, don’t do that! I’ve got to get up for work!” she laughed, feeling the prickly stubble of Lancelot against her pale neck.
“Hmm, that tickles! Stop it!” she playfully scolded, coughing a little as Lancelot propped himself up and laid back down, resting heavily on her.
The covers had already been tossed aside, and Lancelot, with his impressive physique, pressed down on her softness, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose before burying his face in her neck and planting soft kisses on her delicate skin.
“Little fool, who told you to stay up so late last night? Look, you caught a cold,” Lancelot murmured, his deep voice whispering in her ear.
“How about I take your cold? You’ll get better faster that way.” He raised his rugged face to meet Isabella’s gaze, his eyes warm and affectionate. Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her soft, dewy lips.
“Mmm…” After a long kiss, Isabella finally pushed him away, a mix of longing and reprimand in her voice. “Don’t do that, I really don’t want to pass this on to you. Let’s get up for work.”
With a playful pout, Isabella quickly slipped out of Lancelot's embrace, feeling somewhat reluctant as she left the warmth of their bed. She opened the wardrobe to find something to wear for work.
Once she got to the office, she was greeted by a mountain of paperwork piled high on her desk. Isabella felt a sense of exhaustion wash over her. Ever since she transferred to this unit, her boss had treated her like a personal assistant, dumping all the paperwork on her and expecting her to handle everything before reporting back. The previous person in this position hadn’t even had such an insane workload.
Sighing heavily, Isabella plunged into a full day of work, losing herself in tasks until lunch rolled around, barely taking a moment to breathe.
“I knew it! You didn’t go out for lunch,” a bag from The Old Crow Tavern appeared right in front of her, and when she looked up, Lancelot’s unhappy expression met her eyes.
“You’re feeling sick and still don’t take a proper lunch? Do you think working at The Healers' Guild gives you the luxury of pushing yourself to the brink?” Isabella felt Lancelot’s irritation; he was always furious whenever she skipped meals.
“Alright, how do you know what I ate? You can’t just assume I didn’t step out,” she shot back.
“You received so many messages, and yet you didn’t check even one. It’s obvious you haven’t taken notice, silly.” Lancelot opened the takeout box, revealing a serving of stir-fried noodles — low salt, low pepper, just her taste.
He handed her a set of disposable chopsticks, and she took them absentmindedly, bowing her head to start eating.
“Why did you only buy one? What about your lunch?” she asked mid-bite, looking at the empty plastic bag beside him.
“I figured I could just eat what’s left after you’re done, and that would be my lunch,” Lancelot said with a mischievous grin.
“Are you trying to get killed? This is the office! Don’t you have any shame saying that?” she scolded him.
“Look around you. You're the only one in here. Who’s going to hear?”
Glancing around, Isabella noticed that the office was indeed empty, just the two of them.
“Are you full now, little fool?”
“Mm-hmm, I’m full.” She set her box aside, ready to grab a napkin and wipe her mouth.
“Can I finally eat now?” Lancelot leaned closer, taking advantage of her momentary distraction to kiss the greasy remnants on her lips.
“Mmm… mm…” Isabella’s eyes widened in shock; her beautiful gaze filled with astonishment as she playfully shoved at Lancelot's chest, her lips letting out soft protests.
“Delicious! Truly delicious,” Lancelot finally pulled away, whispering, “But I’m still hungry. That was just the appetizer; now it's time for the main course.” He scooped her up from her chair in a princess carry, causing Isabella to squeal in surprise as they swiftly made their way into a small meeting room.
Once inside, Lancelot shut the door and pressed her against it, his strong body closing in as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear, igniting a blush on her cheeks.

Chapter 2

Isabella strode into The Old Crow Tavern, the familiar scent of aged wood and spilled ale wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. It was the kind of place where laughter echoed and friends gathered, creating a backdrop of warmth for the chilly night outside. The mood inside was lively, patrons animatedly discussing everything from sports to the latest gossip, oblivious to the chill creeping in from the world beyond.
Seated at the bar was Lancelot, the ruggedly charming figure known for his quick wit and infectious smile. His dark hair was tousled just so, and his deep brown eyes sparkled with mischief. Across from him, Guinevere held her own in the conversation, her laughter ringing like a melody. Isabella’s heart thudded in her chest. Lancelot had always had a way of making her feel alive, but with Guinevere in the picture, the familiar pang of jealousy crept in.
"Is that Isabella I see?" Lancelot exclaimed over the din, his voice slicing through the chatter. Isabella managed a smile, despite the turmoil brewing within her.
"Just a regular night out," she replied, trying to sound casual as she approached their table. But beneath her composed exterior, a storm raged. She'd always had a thing for Lancelot; his easy-going nature drew her in more than she cared to admit.
Sitting down felt more like a trap than a comfort. Guinevere leaned closer to Lancelot, their chemistry palpable. Isabella tried to focus on Heath, her friend who had joined their little gathering. His presence was her tether, and she appreciated the way he kept the conversation flowing, steering it away from the tender tangles of their relationships.
"So, what’s the latest with you, Isabella?" Heath asked, a friendly grin on his face.
"Oh, you know, just navigating life at Wellington College," Isabella said, tossing her hair back, attempting to bring her insecurities under control. "Trying to find my path in this chaotic world."
"Aren't we all just a little lost?" Lancelot replied, his gaze finally meeting hers. It sent a jolt through her. The connection was electric, and for a moment, the world around them faded into the background.
Guinevere, not one to be overshadowed, piped in, "At least we have our youth and opportunities! Speaking of which, what about the Grand Tournament Organization? You’re still planning to participate, right, Lancelot?"
"Absolutely," he grinned, full of confidence. "I’ve been training hard. But honestly, I’d love for you to join, Isabella. Could use your spirit on the field."
"Me? Oh, I wouldn’t want to cramp your style," she teased, but her heart raced at the thought.
The banter continued, and Isabella navigated the conversation deftly, though her feelings tortured her in silence. Just then, the door swung open, and in walked Tristan, Guinevere's ex-boyfriend. The atmosphere shifted, tension swirling around them like a sudden gust of wind.
“Nice to see you all,” Tristan said smoothly, his eyes scanning the room before locking onto Guinevere. “Still hanging out with the same crew, huh?”
“Tristan,” Guinevere replied coolly, her smile faltering. “What brings you here?”
“Thought I’d check out the scenery,” he smirked, glancing over Isabella with an appraising look that made her skin crawl.
Lancelot leaned into Isabella, his voice low. “You’re not going to let him ruin the night, right?”
“Not a chance,” she said with newfound conviction. “This is our time to enjoy.”
The night rolled on, each laugh and shared secret weaving them closer, despite the clouds of past relationships looming over. Isabella realized that vulnerability was necessary if she wanted to carve her own path, especially among such formidable personalities.
Little did she know that the night was just the beginning of many tangled emotions. As they raised their glasses in toasts and let the night unfold, she felt a shift, something crackling in the air. And for the first time, she dared to entertain the idea that her story was only just beginning — not just a chapter in someone else's saga but her own vibrant tale filled with the promise of new beginnings.

Chapter 3

Lying back in Heath's embrace, Guinevere slowly regained her sense of rationality in the aftermath of their passion. The warmth radiating from Heath enveloped her, and while she found happiness in it, she knew this wasn’t sustainable.
"What's wrong? Can't you let it go?" Heath's stubble grazed Guinevere's delicate shoulder, the tingling sensation causing her to momentarily lose herself before snapping back to reality.
"No, it’s not about letting go. It's about my unwillingness to accept this." Guinevere's resolve hardened like a personal mantra. "He treated me this way, and now I'm supposed to be the one to end it? I won’t accept that."
"Are you planning to go back just so you can be the one who's dumped?" Heath asked softly, rolling over to pin Guinevere beneath him, his gaze tender yet persuasive, challenging her steadfastness.
"Don't look at me like that! I... I won't be able to move on." Guinevere turned her face away, escaping his penetrating gaze.
"Alright." He wrapped her tightly in a deep embrace, whispering in her ear, "I respect your decision, but whenever you're feeling hurt and heartbroken, you can always come back to me, My Lady."
"Just give me one last taste of warmth as a way to close this chapter, okay?" Guinevere leaned in, and he met her eager kiss with equal fervor.
Before long, the blaze of their passion rekindled within her heart, gently flowing in and out, intensifying like adding kindling to a fire. She released her pent-up moans, the sounds echoing in the small room as their love-hungry battleground expanded beyond the confines of the bed, claiming the desk, dining table, carpet, sofa, and even the bathtub, each surface bearing witness to their wild encounters.
Guinevere eagerly sought out Heath's warmth time and time again, and he gave it freely.
Finally, in the misty sanctuary of the shower, Guinevere knelt as Heath carefully combed her hair while she accepted his last gift of warmth with her lips.
"Farewell, my knight," she said, planting a final kiss on him at her front door.
"Until we meet again, My Lady." He accepted the kiss and watched as she turned to reenter her home, pulling up the car window as he drove away.
The journey between Guinevere and Heath had been deeply complicated. They had known each other for decades, their initial schoolyard friendship infused with mutual attraction. They had grown up together, but back then both had partners, so they kept their feelings tucked away, never to be mentioned again.
Years later, at a high school reunion, while Heath had regained his single status, Guinevere was no longer with her first boyfriend. Despite this, their hands still remained apart, yet, they both overheard that they had felt something for one another.
A few years passed, and Heath brought along a new girlfriend to another gathering, while Guinevere announced her own single status once more—yet again missing the opportunity to finally hold his hand.
But with each missed connection, a place for one another grew in their hearts, and they became trusted confidants.
"Hey, buddy, what are guys even thinking?" Guinevere once asked Heath with a teasing lilt.
"Hey, kid, help me figure this out," Heath shot back with a laugh.
They remained in touch occasionally, often becoming emotional consultants for each other’s love lives.
Then, a few months back, on a particular weekend, a late-night phone call interrupted Heath's overtime grind at work.
"Hey, it's me. What you up to?" Guinevere's voice chimed through the receiver.
"Working late. What's up?"
"Working late? Aren't you supposed to be with your girlfriend on the weekend?"
"Ah, I forgot to update you. Two weeks ago, I got dumped. You can start laughing now."
There was a long silence on the other end before her voice pierced through again, "So, you're saying we can just catch a drink tonight without any explanations?"
"Sure, just name the place."
"First, pick me up at the station, then we’ll decide what to do."
After a few rounds of drinks, Guinevere finally revealed the reason for tonight's toast.

Chapter 4

Guinevere had finally caught her boyfriend cheating again, and this time, she wasn’t going to stay quiet like she usually did. Instead of swallowing her pride, she decided to confront him head-on, even with his family around.
In a fit of rage, she slapped him hard across the face, then turned on her heel and walked away.
“Don’t you think men can be such jerks? You could stay home, but you have to go out and party. Am I just too old and unattractive now? Is that it? You’d rather chase after some young hussy?”
“Or maybe I’m just not good enough in bed? Do I not put in enough effort? You have to look elsewhere for satisfaction, thinking it’s better than being with me?”
Despite being tucked away in a corner of the bustling bar, her outburst drew the attention of several patrons.
“You’ve had too much to drink. Here, have some water,” Heath said gently, offering her a glass of lemonade while rubbing her back soothingly. “It's okay. Get some sleep tonight, and by morning, everything will feel different.”
After a long silence, Guinevere turned to him, her voice unexpectedly soft. “Do you still like me?”
“Of course,” Heath replied, staring into her captivating eyes, giving voice to his feelings without hesitation. “Always have.”
Then their lips met in a soft kiss that quickly ignited a fire between them. They slipped into the nearby restroom, locking the door behind them.
In a bold move, Guinevere grazed his firm outline through his dress pants, then lowered the zipper, urging him to sit on the toilet. With a swift motion, she straddled him, pushing aside her underwear as she welcomed him in.
That brief encounter shattered any remaining barriers between them, as they surrendered to an intense rush of passion.
The next morning, Guinevere stirred awake in The Wayfarer's Inn, her mind racing through the wild events of the night before. Blushing at the memories, she felt his strong arms wrapped around her from behind, providing a mixture of comfort and a hint of loneliness.
“Good morning, sleepyhead. What are you thinking about?” Heath's deep voice rumbled from behind her, just as she felt a warm sensation from his teasing kiss grazing her neck. She hesitated, enjoying the warmth before she realized something was pressing against her back.
“What are you thinking about? Isn’t that the real question?” she teased, turning her head to plant a soft kiss on his smiling lips. “What’s on your agenda this early?”
“Come on, it’s not my fault. Men just wake up like this, but…” Heath gently pressed his lips against hers and added with a mischievous tone, “with your hand like that, I’m definitely thinking of ‘getting to work.’”
With a dominant move, he flipped Guinevere onto her stomach, positioning himself behind her. With the softest of moans, she found herself enveloped in a wave of desire, drawing him further into her waiting warmth.
Just then, her phone buzzed incessantly. She glanced at it, then promptly ignored it, switching it off.
Thus began the first battle of the day.
Heath filled her completely, their bodies moving together in a rhythm of heat and need. Guinevere's curves were pressed into the bed, her body glistening against the wrinkled white sheets, reflecting the perfect harmony of strength and grace.
In Heath's eyes, this was perfection—the epitome of everything he craved. He felt himself grow even harder as he surged within her.
“Give it to me, please! I’m so close! Inside, now…please…” Guinevere cried out, her voice rising amidst the sound of their bodies colliding, reaching new heights of ecstasy.
Heath responded with a deep grunt, and in that moment, he released himself deep inside her.
Guinevere trembled, drenched in sweat as she lay on the bed, her body echoing the aftershocks of their whirlwind passion.
After they regained their composure, both feeling a bit ravenous, they cleaned up and decided to head out for breakfast.
From that moment on, they found a rhythm together, naturally intertwining their lives with each other.
Without a word exchanged, little by little, their lives began to softly weave into one another.

Chapter 5

Though Guinevere had never flaunted her relationship with Heath, she also never denied the suspicions of their mutual friends regarding their closeness.
A few months later, her ex-boyfriend, Orin, ramped up his pursuit of her. His attempts were initially moderate, reaching out through various means over the months. But suddenly, he made a grand gesture.
First, he began showing up—both at her workplace and outside her apartment—keeping an unsettling presence in her life.
Next, the gifts started rolling in. Flowers and parcels kept arriving at her doorstep, each one a reminder of the past they once shared.
Finally, his friends, including Rowena, stepped in, insisting that while no relationship was perfect, her future with Heath wouldn’t offer the same security that a reunion with Orin could.
Eventually, Orin successfully crafted himself into the heartthrob of the season—a charming lost soul pleading for a second chance, while painting Guinevere as the untrustworthy one who had moved on.
Trapped in a corner, Guinevere wrestled with a growing frustration. It wasn’t the sight of Orin with other women that stained her heart; it was the feeling of betrayal—the realization that she, the one who had been left, was now seen as the heartbreaker.
Why did people assume she was the one straying into Heath’s arms?
Why did Heath have to wear the unjust title of the interloper for her sake?
Through all of this, Heath remained by her side, quietly enduring her emotional outbursts, her attacks and tirades. He took it all, absorbing her pain without complaint.
After a particularly intense moment, as she laid her head on his arm, she whispered, “I think it’s time we stop…”
And just like that, they shifted back to the beginning, back to being good friends.
Despite Orin's relentless advances, Guinevere found herself unable to accept him back into her life. She couldn’t bring herself to trust his promises again.
With Heath, however, she confessed, “I shouldn’t have let you fall for me.” Tears brimmed in her eyes as she lowered her gaze. “It’s unfair to you.”
Heath listened, a gentle smile creeping across his face. He wrapped her in a warm embrace, placing a light kiss on her forehead, devoid of any romantic intent.
“Love isn’t about fairness,” he replied softly. “It’s just about you and me. I’ve held onto our original promise all this time—no doubt in my heart.”
“There’s no should or shouldn’t in love, only how to bear it.”
“Your feeling of unfairness stems from your unresolved feelings.”
“But to me, you are the centerpiece. You are what matters.”
“To me, you’ve always been my ‘should.’”
Yet, Guinevere still found herself unable to let go of that mental block.
To relieve her of the burden, Heath encouraged her to explore the world, to meet new people.
In turn, she suggested they maintain a sense of “fairness.” If she were to start dating someone new, then Heath had to pursue relationships of his own too; he couldn’t just wait for her.
Days passed, and Guinevere began seeing someone new, Caspian. Heeding their agreement, Heath started accepting invitations and friendly advances from other girls.
Two or three years later, Guinevere and Caspian were discussing marriage. Heath, ever the supportive friend, offered his blessing and even agreed to Guinevere's new stipulation:
“If I’m going to get married, then you must consider your own lifelong commitment.”
“Okay, I agree. If I marry, then you must find a companion for yourself too.”
As the wedding preparations consumed Guinevere’s days—dress fittings, venue planning, and guest lists—she found herself missing conversations with Heath.
Then one evening, during a dinner with Caspian’s family, the elders gave their opinions:
“Guinevere, once you marry into our family, you should focus on maintaining the household. Work? Just quit it.”
“After quitting your job, let’s see if you can give us a grandchild within a year or two!”
“Also, once you’re part of the family…”
After over an hour of hearing such remarks, Guinevere shot Caspian a pleading glance, hoping for some support. But her fiancé, now complacent in his role, ignored her completely, leaving her feeling incredibly frustrated.
“No, this isn’t right. This isn’t the life I envisioned.”
“Why isn’t anyone trying to help me or speak up for me?”
“Caspian, why are you just accepting everything they say? Speak up!”
Doubt started creeping into Guinevere’s heart. She had worked so hard to prove herself, to fight for her place, and yet here she was, still controlled by others’ expectations.
Defiantly, she resisted, wanting her fiancé to be an equal partner in building their future together.
But reality didn’t match her desires.
Just a week before the wedding, she was infuriated by Caspian's dismissive attitude and left in a huff.
As she wandered aimlessly, her thoughts were a whirlwind. Finally, she pulled out her phone and sent a message to a familiar number:
“I need you.”
Shortly after, a reply came:
“Where?”
“The usual spot.”
Before long, Heath appeared at the entrance of their old hangout, the Rusty Tankard, sitting on a bench across from her, observing her deep in thought, helpfully quiet.
“I’ve called off the wedding. I’ve decided not to go through with it,” Guinevere stated calmly.
“Congratulations,” Heath replied, his response devoid of judgment.
“I thought I was working hard to become the person I envisioned, but only now do I realize I’ve been hiding from the person I really am in my heart.”
“I believed I would find someone supportive, someone who would allow me to truly be myself.”
“But I’ve realized I’ve missed my chance with the person I should have been with all along.”
“What about you, Heath?”
“I’m getting married next week, on the same day you planned.”
“Oh, I understand. Congratulations, I wish you all the best.”
“Thank you.”
“And I need to thank you, Heath. I’m lucky to have you in my life.”
Thus, they sealed their fate as lifelong friends, forever drawn apart by unspoken words.

There are limited chapters to put here, click the button below to continue reading "Between Heartbeats and Second Chances"

(It will automatically jump to the book when you open the app).

❤️Click to read more exciting content❤️