Page 117 of Balancing Act

“Let’s go outside,” Beth said quietly.

Sarah didn’t argue. She grabbed her drink and followed Beth onto the balcony, closing the sliding door behind them.

The night air was cool but pleasant, the city stretched out below them in a sea of twinkling lights. They stood there for a moment, neither of them speaking, before Beth finally broke the silence.

“I talked to Lane Walker today,” she said.

Sarah took a slow sip of her drink, unbothered. “Yeah?”

“They called to tell me I got into the UCLA summer residency program.”

Beth didn’t know what reaction she was expecting from Sarah—maybe a knowing smirk or an immediate “Well, obviously, you’re brilliant” response. Instead, Sarah hummed, swirling her bourbon thoughtfully. “That’s big.”

“The thing is, though...” She traced the inside of her mouth with the tip of her tongue as she formed the next words, and suddenly, the reason why the application was still empty on her desk was getting clearer. “I never applied. Sean submitted an application for me.”

“That sounds about right.” Sarah scoffed, the ice in her drink clinking softly.

Beth turned, looking at her. “And you? No grand speech about how this is exactly what I should be doing?”

Sarah leaned against the railing, considering her. “That depends. Do you want it?”

Beth blinked. God, Sarah had always been able to cut right through the swirliness of her thoughts.

She crossed her arms, thinking. “I don’t know.”

Sarah didn’t fill the silence or try to push her in any direction. She nodded, waiting.

Beth sighed. “You were the one who told me to take the art tour. You said I’d regret it if I didn’t.”

“And I was right.”

Beth let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You usually are. It’s actually pretty annoying.”

Sarah smirked but said nothing.

Beth turned, looking back toward the city. “I guess I thought if I ever got this kind of opportunity, I’d jump at it. No hesitation. No second-guessing.”

She pressed her hands against the balcony railing, feeling the coolness from the metal spread through her.

“But now?” Sarah asked.

She searched herself for the excitement, for the rush of ambition she used to feel. It should have been there. Maybe months ago, it would have been. But instead, all she felt was a quiet certainty—one she hadn’t realized was there until this moment.

“I have a life I love,” she admitted softly. “And I think—” She hesitated, letting herself feel it. “I think I finally have everything I want.”

Sarah didn’t react.

“I’m sorry if that’s hard to hear,” Beth said quietly, as she realized how that statement might land on Sarah. Sarah for her part just held her hand up.

“Then maybe that’s your answer.”

Beth turned to her, struck by the quiet genuineness in her voice. There was no hidden angle, no teasing, no pressure. Just Sarah as her best friend—seeing her and understanding her.

Beth swallowed around the sudden tightness in her throat. “I missed this,” she admitted.

Sarah tilted her head puzzled. “This?”

“You. Us. Talking like this,” she said, meeting her gaze.