Page 53 of Balancing Act
JAMIE
Jamie looked around Amanda’s apartment. It was warm and inviting, with the soft glow of lived-in clutter. Takeout boxes littered the coffee table, and Grey’s Anatomy was paused mid-episode on the TV. The familiar tap of rain drummed against the windows, but all Jamie could hear was her heartbeat as it raced. Jamie stretched from the spot on the couch where she had been curled up, wrapped in the duvet from Amanda’s bed.
Amanda tossed her a bottle of sparkling water before plopping down beside her, pulling a box of dumplings closer. “Okay, seriously,” Amanda began, her faded sweatshirt bunched at the elbows. “I love Grey’s Anatomy, but if we rewatch this same damnwill they, won’t theything one more time, I might lose it.”
Jamie hit play, her eyes glued to the screen, but she knew Amanda could see the heaviness lingering beneath her smile.
“Hey.” Amanda nudged her foot against Jamie’s leg on the couch. “I’m serious. This is, what? Night twelve of this? We’ve gone through nearly three seasons in the past two weeks.”
“And?” Jamie asked, her eyes flicking to Amanda for a second before returning to the TV. “Season three is a classic.”
Jamie leaned back into the couch, pulling the duvet tighter around her like it could shield her from Amanda’s probing questions. Her fingers tugged idly at a loose thread, and she stared hard at the screen, though she wasn’t really watching.
Amanda rolled her eyes. “No, you rewatching Grey’s on my couch in silence for two straight weeks is a classic.” She paused, sitting up slightly. “Jamie, I love you—I do—but it’s hard watching you be this upset and not being able to do anything about it.”
“I’m not upset,” Jamie mumbled, the lack of conviction in her voice telling.
Amanda smirked. “You’re upset. You’re brooding. And your ass is leaving a permanent dent in my couch.” She nudged her again with her foot.
Jamie groaned. “Could you not?”
“Oh no, we’re doing this,” Amanda shot back, setting her dumpling bowl down and shifting to face Jamie fully. “Because for weeks now, I’ve watched you wallow in this Beth thing and pretend it doesn’t bother you, but clearly, it does. You’re sad, and that’s understandable. You keep bringing it up, so you must still need to process everything.”
Jamie sighed, leaning back into the couch. “I’m not bringing it up all the time. And I’m not—” Her voice faltered, her eyes darting away from Amanda’s. “I’m not sad.”
Amanda watched her, eyebrows raised. “Sure you’re not,” she said sarcastically. Amanda crossed her arms, staring Jamie down. “Let’s review the evidence, shall we? The night after the café conversation, you couldn’t stop talking about how you didn’t know what to do. The next day, you asked me if I thought Beth was better off with Sarah. And since the day after that, you’ve camped out on my couch and refused to discuss anything. Should I keep going?”
Jamie groaned louder this time, sinking deeper into the couch. She pulled the duvet tighter around her, hiding behind it momentarily before sighing.
“Okay, I get it.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” Amanda leaned forward, her voice softening a little. “Jamie, I get it. You’re hurt. You’re confused. But you’re also not doing anything to change that. You’re stuck in this loop of ‘What if?’ and ‘I can’t,’ and I’m tired of watching you stand in your own way.”
“It’s not that simple.”
Amanda scoffed. “No, it’s exactly that simple. But you’re scared, so you’re hiding. Sitting here with me, watching a show we’ve seen a million times because it’s easier than dealing with your feelings.”
“Hey, I happen to love watching Grey’s with you,” Jamie shot back, trying to steer the conversation away from her.
“Yeah, me too.” Amanda’s voice softened for a beat. “But not when you’re using it to avoid the real issue.”
Jamie’s jaw tightened, her defenses rising. “It’s not that I’m avoiding it,” Jamie said, her voice quieter now, eyes fixed on the screen. “It’s just—Beth doesn’t need someone like me. What if it all comes back? I barely survived cancer once, and I don’t want her to watch me go through that. Not Beth. Not Lily.”
Amanda paused mid-dumpling. “Jamie, you don’t know what’s going to happen. No one does. But you can’t live your life expecting the worst. You’re worth more than that. You are Jamie-fucking-Lyons. Seven-time Olympic gold medalist, ass-kicker of cancer, and a good and kind woman deserving of love, even if you are a little damaged.” Amanda sighed, sitting back but keeping her eyes on Jamie. “You’ve got to stop making everything so complicated. I know you. You’re using all this ‘I’m too damaged’ crap as a shield, and that’s not fair to either you or Beth.”
Jamie swallowed hard, her throat tight. She stared at the TV, the images blurring in her vision.
Amanda sighed, her voice gentler now. “If you put half as much energy into living for yourself as you do trying to protect people from things that might not happen, your whole life could change. You love Beth.”
Jamie’s head snapped toward her, eyes wide. Her heart beat faster as that word ricocheted around her brain. Love. Love? “I never said?—”
“You didn’t have to,” Amanda interrupted, her tone knowing. “It’s written all over your face.”
Love. Was that what this feeling she had was? The one she hadn’t been able to shake for weeks? She shifted under the duvet. Had Beth really slipped past all of her walls without Jamie being able to tell?
“And, yeah,” Amanda continued, “maybe it’s scary as hell. Maybe you think you’re not good enough. But, Jamie, Beth deserves the truth, and so do you.”
The room was quiet for a long moment. Jamie bit her lip, her heart racing, her mind churning with everything she’d been trying to avoid.