Page 46 of Balancing Act
Jamie blinked, feeling a strange, hollow ache forming inside her. “I’m not upset,” she lied.
Beth raised an eyebrow, not convinced. “If we’re just friends, why do you care so much about me and Sarah?”
The question hit Jamie like a punch to the gut. She froze, her mind scrambling for an answer she didn’t want to face. Why did she care so much? Why did the thought of Beth and Sarah still being tangled up make her stomach twist in knots?
It wasn’t supposed to matter. None of this was supposed to matter.
But it did.
Beth stared at her, waiting for an answer. Jamie felt exposed, like Beth could see every chink in the armor she wore around herself, every feeling she was trying so hard to bury, and she didn’t like how it felt to be seen so clearly by another person.
Her heart pounded in her chest, the words swirling between them, making it impossible to breathe. She needed to get out of there—away from the conversation, away from Beth, away from the confusion that had been building since the moment Beth had approached her back in September. Every word Beth spoke felt like another punch, a reminder that Sarah had been there first, that Sarah still had a place in Beth’s life—all because Jamie had been trying to do the right thing.
Her last question—why do you care so much?—echoed in Jamie’s mind, taunting her, demanding an answer. Jamie didn’t know why she cared so much. Or rather, she didn’t want to admit it.
She forced a laugh, trying to brush it off, but it came out too sharp, too strained.
“I, uh—I need to get going,” Jamie blurted out, the words spilling from her mouth before she fully processed them. She stood abruptly, chair scraping loudly against the weathered wooden floor, drawing the attention of a few nearby patrons, but Jamie didn’t care. She needed to leave. The café felt too small, too claustrophobic. For every second she stayed, the walls felt like they were closing in on her, trapping her in a conversation she wasn’t ready to have.
Beth’s puzzled blue eyes blinked up at her, startled by the sudden movement. “Jamie, wait?—”
She could hear the hurt in Beth’s voice, but she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t sit there, couldn’t let herself unravel in front of Beth. She didn’t want Beth to see her like that. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, fingers curling into fists, hoping that gripping the fabric would stop her from shaking.
“I’ve got to—” Jamie started, her voice too tight, too high. She glanced toward the door, knowing that beyond was where these feelings would end.
Beth’s confusion deepened, the bright confidence from earlier fading as concern crept into her eyes. “Jamie, are you okay?”
Jamie nodded quickly, too quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”
Another forced laugh. Another lie.
She wasn’t fine. She was unraveling, and that terrified her even more.
Beth reached for her arm, her fingers brushing Jamie’s jacket sleeve. “Please, you don’t have to go. We can?—”
Jamie jerked back instinctively, avoiding the touch as though it burned. “I’ll see you later,” she said, without looking at Beth. The words rushed, barely coherent, as she turned on her heel and headed for the exit.
She heard Beth say something behind her—her name, maybe?—but Jamie didn’t stop. She couldn’t. Her steps quickened as she pushed through the café door, the sharp chime of the bell ringing in her ears like an alarm, urging her to move faster.
Cool autumn air hit her like a slap to the face, or was it the stinging sensation in the corners of her eyes that she had been fighting? Neither was enough to clear her head of the mess she had created. Jamie sucked in a deep breath, but it didn’t fill her lungs the way she needed it to. Her chest was tight, her thoughts a tangled mess of confusion, jealousy, and frustration. She pulled the hood of her raincoat up over her head, shielding her from the gentle rain now falling outside.
What was she doing? Why did she care so damn much about what Beth had said? Why did the thought of Beth and Sarah being together make her so queasy? She knew why, but shewouldn’t admit it to herself, because if she did, how the hell was she supposed to move forward with the truth?
Jamie walked faster, her sneakers scuffing against the pavement as she put more distance between herself and the café. She knew running wasn’t the answer. It never had been. But she didn’t know how to stop. She always ran—from feelings, from relationships, from everything that felt too real, too close.
Her van came into view, parked a block away from the café, and she practically sprinted the last few steps toward it. She fumbled with her keys, cursing as she dropped them, her fingers trembling as she stooped down to pick them up. She unlocked the door and climbed inside, slamming it shut behind her like she was trying to block out the world. Dropping her head against the steering wheel, the cool leather pressing against her forehead.
Breathe, Jamie, she told herself, forcing her lungs to draw air in and out, trying to regain some semblance of control, trying to calm herself down. But it wasn’t working. The image of Beth—her eyes concerned, her voice gentle, the hurt in her expression—played over and over in her mind, and the gravity of what had happened settled heavily on her chest.
She had run.
“Fuck!”
She squeezed her eyes shut, her mind flashing back to Beth’s words about how she’d ended up back with Sarah.You made it clear you weren’t an option.The truth of it stung, sinking deep into Jamie’s bones. She had made it clear, hadn’t she? She had done everything in her power to keep Beth at arm’s length and make sure there were no expectations or attachments. Because that’s what Jamie did. She kept everyone at an arm’s length, not only for her own protection, but for theirs too.
Jamie leaned back in the driver’s seat and stared up at the roof of her van, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. She hadbeen so focused on not getting involved with Beth, on not letting herself care about her, that she hadn’t realized how far she had already fallen for Beth. And now, she didn’t know how to fix it. Didn’t know if she could.
Her phone buzzed, and she hesitated for a moment before pulling it out, half expecting to see Beth’s name on the screen. But it wasn’t Beth. It was Amanda.