Page 28 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

Jamie blinked, trying to keep her expression neutral despite the surprise. “Another go?” she asked, keeping her tone gentle though her mind was racing. This made so much of what she had observed between Beth and Sarah make sense.

Beth nodded, her fingers tightening around her cup.

“We’ve always been tied together—always will be tied together—because of Lily, and there’s a comfort in that, you know?

I’ve known Sarah since I was eighteen. She was truly my best friend, and that friendship eventually turned into love.

But anyway, we had dinner one night—the three of us like we usually do—and something about it felt easy.

Like we were a family again. And I thought that was what I needed at the time. ”

Jamie stayed quiet, letting Beth find her words, though a knot was already forming in her chest, making it harder for her to breathe.

“We ended up sleeping together,” Beth admitted. “And then it kept happening. At first, it was fine. Lily didn’t know, of course. But then...” Beth shook her head, clearly still unsettled by the memory. “I was in bed with Sarah, and Lily... walked in one morning.”

Jamie winced. “Oh God.”

“Yeah.” Beth let out a humorless laugh. “But you know the worst part? Lily was thrilled. Like, absolutely over the moon. She was so happy that we were getting back together for real.”

Jamie’s heart sank at the thought of Lily, wide-eyed with excitement, not knowing the full extent of what was happening between her moms.

“She kept talking about how we could all be a family again,” Beth continued, her voice shaking slightly, “and I let her think that for a while, because I wanted it to be true—for her more than for me.”

Jamie couldn’t ignore the way Beth’s shoulders tensed like she was bracing herself for judgment, but all Jamie felt was a dull ache in her chest.

“And then... it wasn’t,” Beth said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I realized pretty quickly that nothing had really changed. I still wasn’t able to be happy with Sarah.

I wasn’t fulfilled. We were falling into the same patterns—Sarah was always in control, always so sure of what she wanted, and I just.

.. I didn’t know how to keep pretending. ”

Jamie shifted in her seat, leaning closer, her eyes never leaving Beth’s. “So, what did you do?”

Beth took a deep breath, her eyes focused on the swirling foam in her cup.

“Well, that’s when Sean brought up the idea of the tour.

He’d been bugging me about it for a while, but I wasn’t sure I could do it or if I wanted to do it.

I didn’t want to leave Lily, didn’t want to feel like I was abandoning her again, and I was still trying to convince myself Sarah and I could figure things out.

But I couldn’t let go of the idea of the tour. ”

“And you went,” Jamie said softly, understanding starting to settle in.

Beth nodded, a faint, rueful smile pulling at her lips.

“Yeah. Sarah and I had a huge fight about it. She didn’t want me to go at first, so I said I wouldn’t, but it kept nagging at me.

I almost stayed, out of guilt and obligation, but Sarah.

.. She saw how miserable I was. It’s one of the few times she’s ever backed down.

She told me to go. Said it was harder to watch me be so unhappy than to watch me leave. ”

Jamie could feel the weight of those words settling between them like a thick fog.

“But Lily...” Beth swallowed hard, her voice breaking a little. “She thought I broke our family again. She still thinks that. That it’s my fault things didn’t work out. I left, and it hurt her. I see it every time she looks at me. It’s like she’s waiting for me to screw everything up again.”

Jamie sat quietly, her chest tight as Beth’s confession hung between them. She could hear the hurt in Beth’s voice, the guilt she carried for a decision she made to save herself from drowning.

“And now?” Jamie asked gently.

Beth met Jamie’s gaze, her eyes shining with a mix of regret and determination.

“And now I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to explain to Lily that I wasn’t happy—that I could feel myself slowly slipping away in that life with Sarah, like I did the first time.

I’ve never felt like enough for Sarah. Not that she’s ever said that, but I’ve always felt this sort of.

.. power imbalance between us, like I can never measure up to her. ”

Jamie’s heart ached for her, for all of them—Beth, Lily, even Sarah—but more than anything, she couldn’t quiet the racing thoughts in her head. The thoughts of Beth with Sarah and how it wasn’t her. But that shouldn’t matter, because she and Beth weren’t anything to each other besides friends.

She reached across the table, her hand resting gently over Beth’s. “You’re enough, Beth. Maybe not for Sarah, but you’re enough.” She didn’t know who she was trying to reassure more—Beth or herself.

Beth’s eyes softened, her fingers tightening around Jamie’s. Neither of them said anything, just sat there holding hands, finding comfort in the other.

Jamie hesitated for a moment, her fingers still lightly brushing against Beth’s hand. Her words playing on a loop, but there was one more question Jamie couldn’t push aside.

“So... where does that leave things with you and Sarah now?”

Beth shifted in her seat, slowly retracting her hand, the silence hinting at the answer Jamie had already guessed, the one she hadn’t wanted to believe.

Finally, Beth spoke, and Jamie could hear the regret in her words. “We’re not together, Jamie. Not really. But it’s complicated.”

Jamie’s grip tightened on her own cup at Beth’s admission. Not really together? It’s complicated? What the hell did that mean? Why did it feel like someone was slowly squeezing the air out of her lungs? She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, needing to know more.

“Complicated how?” she pressed, trying to keep her tone even, but she could hear the bite in her voice, and she hated herself for that.

Beth sighed, looking away. “It’s easy to fall back into old patterns, especially with Sarah.

I mean, I was already confused, and then you happened, and I felt so—” She paused, swallowing hard.

“You made it pretty clear you weren’t an option, so, yeah, I had a moment of weakness and fell back into things with Sarah.

Maybe it’s not right, but it’s not fair for you to be upset with me about it now. ”

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.