Page 124 of Balancing Act

But then Amanda sighed and stepped aside. “Fine. But call Beth. Now.”

Jamie hesitated.

Amanda crossed her arms. “Jamie.”

Jamie swallowed past the lump in her throat.

She didn’t turn her phone back on.

She just walked out the door.

She pulled into Beth’s driveway a few minutes shy of midnight, the familiar gravel crunching under her tires. The house was dark except for the porch light.

She killed the engine and gripped the steering wheel, breathing through the tightness in her chest.Jamie Lyons doesn’t cry, she reminded herself, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. She was fine. She was going to be fine. She had to get out of the damn car.

Or maybe she should turn around and leave. Turn the key, back out of the driveway, and disappear, like she had before. Be gone out of Beth’s life and spare her from what was inevitably coming.

Her fingers hovered over the ignition, ready to move.

But then?—

The front hall light flicked on.

Jamie froze.

Through the window, she could see Beth standing there—arms crossed, jaw set.

Fuck.

Jamie forced herself to move. She couldn’t run anymore. Didn’t want to run anymore.

Her fingers shook uncontrollably as she walked one foot in front of the other, up the steps, stopping as Beth opened the door.

She didn’t speak. Didn’t move aside to let her in. But the look on her face said everything Jamie had expected.

She had never seen her this angry before. The silence was suffocating.

Beth’s eyes raked over her, sharp and assessing, and Jamie knew she looked like hell—exhausted, hollowed out, barely holding herself together. But Beth didn’t care about that.

Beth let her stand in the cold for one unbearable second before stepping back and letting her inside.

As soon as the door shut, Beth let loose.

“Two days, Jamie.” Her voice was low, controlled but lethal—the kind of anger that didn’t explode but burned slow and deep. “Two fucking days and nothing. No call. No text.”

Jamie’s stomach twisted at the hurt lacing Beth’s words. She didn’t dare speak. She deserved this.

Beth let out a sharp breath, shoving a hand through her hair before gripping the back of her neck like she was holding herself together by sheer force.

“You promised me. You promised Lily.”

Jamie swallowed hard, staring at the floor and trying to make herself as small as possible.

She could feel Beth’s eyes boring into her, waiting for her to explain, waiting for her to fight back, to do something. But she just—couldn’t.

Beth let out an annoyed groan, hands dropping to her hips, then back up to cross her arms like she didn’t know what to do with them. “You know what’s worse?” she continued, her voice rising. “I had to lie to her, Jamie. Lily asked if you saw her compete, and I had to stand there and lie to my daughter’s face for you because she thinks you hung the moon and I didn’t want that to change.”

No. That wasn’t true. Jamie blinked, her mind clawing through the fog, grasping at a half-formed memory. A screen. A score. Lily on the mat. Lily in the air. The notes. The texts.