Page 140 of Balancing Act

“When I became your mom, I made myself a promise,” she explained. “That I wouldn’t pretend to have it all figured out. That I would own up to my mistakes when I made them. That even if I wasn’t always exactly who you needed me to be, I’d never stop trying.”

She hesitated, watching Lily’s blue eyes fixed on her, listening intently.

“My mom—she never did that,” Beth admitted, her fingers curling against her lap. “Any time I tried to talk to her about hard things, she’d shut down completely, like she couldn’t handle hearing it. I hated it, and I swore to myself I would never do that to you—that I’d never refuse to take accountability or say I was sorry when I got it wrong.”

Lily didn’t say anything, but Beth could see how she absorbed every word.

Beth met her gaze, the little mirrors of her own eyes staring back at her so steady and sure. “I’m sorry for how things were last year. Leaving for that tour was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. And I’m sorry for the way I left you. I hate that I made you feel alone, and I hate that I didn’t see how much you were struggling. But I need you to know Ineverstopped loving you. Not for a second.”

Lily nodded, biting the inside of her cheek. “I know, Mama.”

Beth reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so glad we’ve been able to rebuild this, Lily.Us.”

Lily squeezed back. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then, Lily smirked. “You’re gonna make me late for practice with all this emotional stuff, you know.”

Beth laughed, rolling her eyes. “Go. Get out of my car, you little menace.” She swatted at her playfully as Lily grinned and climbed out.

“Love you, Mama.”

“Love you, too, Lils.”

As she watched Lily disappear into the gym, she felt it—the warmth that came with the steady feeling of wholeness.

The roads were quieter now, the early morning rush still an hour or two away. The low hum of the tires against the asphalt filled the silence as Beth let herself settle into the moment, her mind drifting.

For the first time in maybe ever, she didn’t feel like she was running on empty.

For so long, her life had been a balancing act—constantly trying to keep all the moving pieces from crashing down around her. But somewhere along the way, she had figured it out.

It wasn’t perfect.

Life still threw curveballs.

Jamie’s follow-up appointment, for example. That was one hell of a curveball.

The possibility that Jamie’s cancer could be back was terrifying, a weight sitting in her chest that never quite went away.

But it didn’t feel like free fall anymore.

Because deep down, Beth knew that no matter what happened, they would handle it. Together.

She thought about Jamie curled up in bed, exhausted but not shutting Beth out. She thought about Lily launching into a million ideas about social media, her excitement practically vibrating off her.

She thought about this morning and how easy it had been, about how their family—because, yeah, that’s what they were—felt solid in a way she had never thought possible.

Beth felt steady. Like maybe she wasn’t just balancing. Maybe she was finally living.

And that?

That felt pretty damn good.

When Beth got home, the house was quiet, and the morning light cast a soft glow across the hardwood floors. She toed off her shoes and dropped her keys into the dish by the door, then stretched for a moment before making her way upstairs.

Jamie was exactly where Beth had left her—curled up beneath the covers, her hair a dark tangle against the pillow, one arm sprawled out across Beth’s side of the bed as if reaching for her in her sleep.

She smiled to herself as she slipped back into bed, carefully easing beneath the covers. As soon as she settled in, Jamie instinctively turned toward her, her body pressing into Beth’s warmth like a magnet.