Page 26 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

“She’s a friend,” Beth said, too quickly—so quickly that even she didn’t believe it. She braced for Sarah’s smirk. And there it was, almost imperceptible.

“We could all use more of those, couldn’t we?” Sarah’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything else, which added to the twisting feeling in Beth’s stomach. “It was nice of her to let you borrow it.” She trailed off, as if she had already made a point.

Beth knew that tone. It was the same one Sarah used to describe lawyers she’d go up against in court that she knew she’d easily take down. The tone she used when she didn’t see something—or someone—as a threat.

Sarah led them back to the row of seats as one of the midfielders faked out the opposing team and ran the ball down the field toward the opposing goal.

Jamie and Lily were on their feet, cheering as Beth scooted toward Jamie, Sarah taking the open seat on Beth’s other side.

The midfielder crossed the ball to one of the forwards, and the surge of cheers from the arena grew louder and louder.

“Send it!” Jamie yelled, jumping up and down, and for a moment, Beth let herself watch Jamie.

She was free, engrossed in the game, completely comfortable being herself.

Jamie turned to Beth, beaming as she took the hot dog from her.

Cheers erupted from the stadium as the ball touched the back of the net.

But Jamie’s gaze didn’t leave hers. Instead, she smiled softly and mouthed her thanks, bumping her shoulder gently against hers before turning her attention back toward the field.

Beth sat back down, the game roaring around her, adding to the noise of emotions swirling through her head.

“That was a great goal.” Sarah patted her thigh softly. It was the way she had touched her a thousand times before, but the tingly butterfly feeling that touch used to elicit had changed drastically over time, and not for the better.

This was not a good idea. God, this whole day had been such a bad idea. She wished Sarah hadn’t invited Jamie today, or that Beth had made up some excuse not to be here. It was too much.

Her knee bounced up and down nervously as she attempted to sort through her thoughts and arrange them in a way that made sense. But the more she tried, the more she felt the significance of the last six weeks settle on her.

Sarah’s hand settled on her thigh again, squeezing gently. “Are you okay?” Sarah leaned closer so only Beth could hear. “You seem on edge today.”

“What? No, I’m fine. I’m great,” Beth shot back.

She balled her hands into fists, hidden by the sleeves of the borrowed sweatshirt, trying to keep her anxiety from manifesting itself further.

Beth pulled the sweatshirt tighter around her body, breathing in the calming scent of eucalyptus and spearmint.

It was the kind of warmth she didn’t realize she was missing—gentle, reassuring, but unspoken.

“Whatever you say,” Sarah said, followed by a muttered sentiment that Beth didn’t catch. Really mature, Sarah. She sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling tightly at the strands before releasing them.

The remainder of the game blurred around Beth, her thoughts tangled in the mess she’d created.

There was Sarah—familiar, complicated, someone she had loved for years—but nothing had changed in the way Beth had once hoped.

Seven years later, she was back in the same place, wondering why she kept repeating history.

Then there was Jamie. Unexpected, effortless, and entirely different than anything she had ever known.

Beth had never planned for Jamie. She had only wanted a little fun, a distraction, a way to celebrate a successful year.

But Jamie had become something else entirely, and Beth hadn’t even realized it.

Every interaction, every conversation pulled Beth in deeper, making her crave more, making her want in a way she hadn’t in a long time.

Jamie had slipped so easily into her thoughts, but Beth still wasn’t sure if she had done the same for her.

The sharp sound of a whistle, followed by a loud cheer, pulled her back to the present moment. She had missed the entire second half of the game, lost in her thoughts and still without any answers or a plan.

“Thanks again for the invitation, Sarah,” Jamie said, as the group exited the suite, lingering in the hall. Outside, the sound of a horde of people making their way out of the stadium pressed in around them.

“Seriously, any time. Thanks for all you’ve been doing for our Lily.” Sarah wrapped her arm around Lily’s shoulders. “We want you to know how much it means to our family.”

Jamie flashed a genuine smile. “It’s nothing. Lily is a delight to work with.”

“See, Mom, I’m a de-light to work with.” Lily flashed a wicked grin at the compliment.

Jamie was pulled away by a few of the Ultimate Frisbee girls, leaving the three of them together.

“Can I stay at your house one more night, Mom?” Lily asked, nuzzling into Sarah’s embrace. “I miss being home.”

Beth felt a pang of jealousy at those words, along with the return of that uneasy feeling she had experienced earlier when Lily had given her that skeptical look after observing her and Sarah.

It’s natural she feels this way , Beth reminded herself.

Until a few weeks ago, Lily had primarily lived at Sarah’s home in Seattle.

It was natural for her to miss it. But that didn’t make it hurt any less that Lily didn’t want to come back to her home with Beth.

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll clear my morning so I can get you to the gym on time,” Sarah said, twirling the strands of Lily’s blonde ponytail between her fingers. Sarah’s eyes landed on Beth, and in a rare moment of hesitation, Sarah viewed her with a genuineness Beth hadn’t seen in a while.

“I miss having you around, B,” Sarah said, softer this time. Beth expected the usual smirk, the casual self-assurance, but for a fraction of a second, Sarah’s mask slipped. But then it was back in place, replaced with that familiar confidence. “You should come over for dinner.”

It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t a demand. It was more of a suggestion, and for a moment, Beth thought Sarah might follow it up with something more, something deeper.

The weight of Sarah’s question hung between them, her suggestive smile drawing Beth back to all those years they had spent falling into the same old patterns—ones she so easily slipped back into whenever she was within Sarah’s orbit.

She could already picture the evening: Lily laughing over dinner, Sarah leaning a little too close, her hand brushing Beth’s thigh under the table.

Comfortable, familiar, but empty. Beth opened her mouth to answer when Jamie's voice cut through her hesitation, offering an escape.

“Hey, if we’re grabbing the ferry, we might want to leave soon.” The suggestion jolted Beth from her spiral of indecision.

Her gaze shifted from Jamie to Sarah, their questions each left open-ended. In her moment of hesitation, she watched Sarah’s smile falter, realizing her answer. The choice suddenly clear, like there was only one right way to go.

“I should head home with Jamie. Back to Bainbridge, I mean—to my house on the island.” She stumbled her way through her response as she tucked a blonde wave behind her ear, very aware of how Sarah was watching her.

“Yeah. That makes sense.” Her voice was soft, laced with hurt that couldn’t go unnoticed.

But she didn’t say anything else as she hugged Lily goodbye before Lily and Sarah headed off toward the parking lot, and Beth and Jamie headed into the dark, toward the ferry that would take them home to their little island.

As they walked toward the ferry, Beth felt a strange mix of relief and lingering guilt.

She had made her choice, but the unease in her stomach hadn’t completely disappeared.

Jamie’s presence next to her was comforting, yet Beth couldn’t shake the feeling that she was standing on the edge of something much larger than she could yet comprehend.