Page 60 of Balancing Act
“No, it’s okay,” Sarah interrupted softly, shaking her head. “I mean it. I get it, Beth. I really do. And I’m okay. I don’t want you to feel like you have to protect me. Like I said, I’m not surprised.”
Beth bit her lip. She could tell by the choppiness of Sarah’s words that she wasn’t as okay as she was pretending to be. She wanted to give Sarah words to make this easier. Instead, she sighed, grateful for Sarah’s grace. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a shared sadness for what could have been, but also relief in knowing they were finally being honest with each other.
“I’m not sorry about the house, though.” A small, cocky grin pulled at her lips. “I think being a little closer will be good for all of us, even if it’s not how I originally thought.”
Beth smiled weakly. Her response was so Sarah—self-assured and a little bit cocky. But Beth agreed.
“Go talk to Lily,” she said gently. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Sarah offered a small, bittersweet look before turning and leaving the kitchen. The sound of her footsteps echoed down the hallway, fading as she reached the door to the basement where Lily was waiting.
Beth stood there for a moment, feeling the quiet hum of the empty kitchen around her. She pressed her palms against the cool countertop, staring down at the remnants of their dinner—the half-chopped vegetables, the unfinished sauce, and the table ready for their meal. It had been such a lovely evening, but it had been built on borrowed time.
She let out a slow breath, her heart still heavy but lighter now that the truth had finally been spoken. She knew what she wanted—what she’d known all along, really—but it had taken this moment, this complicated conversation with Sarah, to make her realize it.
With a final glance around the kitchen, she wiped her hands on a dish towel, bracing herself for the conversation with Lily.
She descended the stairs to the lower level and found Sarah sitting next to Lily on the couch, her arm wrapped around their daughter’s shoulders. Lily’s face was tense, her arms crossed over her chest in that defiant way she always did when she was upset.
Beth crossed the room and sat on the armchair’s edge across from them, catching Lily’s eye. “Alright, love. Let’s talk.”
Lily’s eyes darted between her two moms, suspicion clouding her expression. “About what?” Lily’s brow furrowed, her voice cracking with frustration. “I told you I don’t want you two to get back together. I like it better this way!”
If it weren’t so devastating, she would have laughed at Lily’s blunt honesty. There was a strange relief, but also an ache she couldn’t quite name—the kind that comes when the truth is both a gift and a wound.
“I know, love,” Beth said softly, leaning forward. She glanced at Sarah, who gave her a reassuring nod. “Your mom and I want you to know we’ve heard you. And—not because it’s what you want, but because of us—we’re not getting back together.” She paused.
Lily’s lips trembled slightly as she looked down at her hands clenched tightly in her lap. “Good. I don’t want things to be messy again,” she whispered. “I like how we are now. Everyone is better this way.”
Beth stood and knelt in front of Lily, resting her hands on her daughter’s knees. “We’re not going to let things get messy. I promise. Your mom and I, we’re still a team. Nothing’s going to change that.”
Sarah nodded in agreement. “We’re always going to be here for you, Lil. No matter what.”
Lily shook her head slowly, body relaxing a little, but she still seemed wary. “Okay,” she whispered.
Beth leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead.
“And you know why?” She smiled as she glanced at Sarah. “Because we’re the Gallagher girls.” She put her hand out before her. A smile stretched across Sarah’s face as she realized where Beth was going with this. She placed her hand on top of Beth’s.
“Together forever, a family no matter what,” she said, picking up the line of the practiced chant they had said many times before.
Lily rolled her eyes and placed her hand on top of Sarah’s.
“Us against the world. Always.” They all raised their hands at once, and as Beth stood, taking in their little family once again, there was no animosity between her and Sarah—only an understanding, a mutual respect for the family they had built together. It wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs.
“Guys, our family cheer is kind of lame. It doesn’t even rhyme.” Lily laughed as she wrapped her arms around Sarah, leaning into her.
“I think you’re right, love,” Beth said softly, looking between her daughter and ex-wife. “I don’t know about you two, but Isure am hungry,” she said. “Maybe we can figure out a new chant over dinner.”
For the first time in a long time, Beth believed everything with their little family was going to be okay.
The following evening, Beth’s studio was filled with the soft hum of music, notes drifting lazily through the air, blending with the rhythmic sound of her brush against the canvas. Each stroke of her brush came easily, effortlessly—her thoughts, emotions, and everything that had been swirling in her mind over the past few weeks poured out onto the scene before her in vibrant blues, rich greens, and streaks of warm gold.
The evening was shaping up to be the kind of night she could paint forever—where time didn’t exist, and the world beyond her studio walls faded into nothingness. She swayed with the music, letting it flow through her as her brush moved freely. She didn’t even notice the sound of the doorbell until it came a second time, echoing through the space.
She glanced toward the hall, her brow furrowing. It was late—too late for an unexpected visitor. She set down her brush, wiped her hands on the paint-stained cloth hanging from her apron, and headed for the door, smiling as she pulled it open.
Sean stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, wearing his signature grin. The collar of his jacket was turned up against the chilly December winds.