Page 31 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

A short time later, Beth stood in the doorway, arms loosely crossed over her chest, watching Jamie pull up in her van.

She saw Jamie hesitate for a moment before stepping out, tablet in hand, her usual confident demeanor absent.

Beth got a small wave from Jamie, restrained and tentative in a way she hadn’t seen before.

“Hey,” Beth greeted, her voice carefully light, trying not to betray the knot of nerves twisting in her stomach.

“Hey,” Jamie echoed, her tone equally as cautious. She held up the tablet with a half smile. “Lily’s tablet. She left it at the gym again.”

Beth let out a soft laugh, though it felt forced, a reflex more than anything. “She leaves that thing everywhere.”

For a moment, there was nothing but awkwardness between them, a tension neither of them dared to acknowledge present. She shifted, suddenly feeling far too aware of how her arms were crossed and the lingering intensity that had taken up space between them since that day in the café.

“Thanks for bringing it by,” she added, glancing down and back up. She didn’t want Jamie to leave, but she didn’t know how to ask her to stay without opening up a conversation she wasn’t sure either of them was ready for.

Jamie hesitated, her fingers brushing nervously through her long curls. She looked at Beth, and for a moment, Beth saw the rawness of what she was feeling in her eyes—it was guarded and fragile, like Jamie was holding herself back.

“Uh... can I come in?” Jamie asked quietly. “There’s something I think we need to talk about.”

Beth’s heart gave a small, involuntary jump.

“Yeah, of course,” she said quickly, stepping aside and holding the door open for her.

The familiar scent of eucalyptus and spearmint drifted by as Jamie passed her, wrapping around Beth in a swirl of warmth and comfort, like it had the day she’d worn Jamie’s sweatshirt.

Once inside, she led Jamie into the living room. Jamie sat down on the edge of the couch, her posture rigid, like she was fighting to hold herself together.

Beth sat across from her, tucking her legs beneath her, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her body. The silence between them was deafening.

“I’m sorry, Beth,” Jamie finally said. “I’m sorry for running out on you at the café. That wasn’t fair.”

Beth blinked, her heart tightening at the apology. “Jamie, you don’t have to?—”

“I do,” Jamie interrupted. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and shouldn’t have run like that. You didn’t deserve it. But... it’s what I do. I push people away when things get too real. When I start to feel something I don’t know how to handle, I run.”

Beth stayed quiet, her heart aching. Jamie’s hands were clenched in her lap, her knuckles white. It was like she was trying to hold herself together, piece by piece.

“I’ve done it my whole life,” Jamie continued, her eyes dropping to the floor. “But this time, it felt different. You feel different. And that scares me.”

Beth swallowed, her throat tight. She wanted to reach out—to tell Jamie that it was okay, that she felt those same things, too—but Jamie kept talking, her voice growing shakier with each word.

“And I thought if we stayed just friends, it would be easier. That those feelings would go away.” Jamie’s laugh was bitter, pained.

“But the more time I spent around you, the harder it got to ignore them. And then, hearing you talk about Sarah, I realized there are obvious feelings there and that I can’t compete with history.

And you were right. I was the one who removed the possibility of there being an ‘us’ in the first place, but in that moment, I realized I never wanted to. So, I did what I always do. I ran.”

Beth felt her heart break a little at those words. She had felt it, too—how things had felt like they were slowly slipping between them. But she didn’t say anything, waiting for Jamie to continue, to tell her what she wasn’t saying.

Jamie hesitated, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. Then, with a quiet inhale, she looked up and found her eyes. “There’s another reason I ran. One I haven’t told you about yet. One I haven’t really told anyone.”

Beth held her breath, sensing the weight of what was coming.

“The reason I left everything out of the blue—gymnastics, my old life—it wasn’t because I got tired of it.

” Jamie’s voice faltered, her gaze fixed on the floor, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

Beth waited, her heart pounding. “It was because...” Jamie’s voice broke off.

She tried again. “I was diagnosed with breast cancer.” Her words dropped like stones into water, their impact radiating outward, Beth’s own heart dropping with them.

Jamie’s voice was quiet but steady as she explained.

“It happened right before the Olympic trials. The same cancer that killed my mom. I found out I have the brCA1 gene, and the doctors told me—” Her voice cracked, and she took a moment to compose herself.

“I didn’t want to fight it. Didn’t want to go through what my mom went through.

So, I made the choice to disappear. So that when it did catch up with me, I wouldn’t hurt anyone. ”

Beth’s throat constricted. It was unbearable, trying to picture Jamie bearing that fear on her own. And yet, Jamie was sitting in front of her now, alive, but clearly haunted by that decision.

“I didn’t tell anyone at first,” Jamie continued. “Not even Amanda. I was twenty-four, alone, and scared, and I thought if I disappeared, it would be easier for everyone.”

Beth squeezed Jamie’s hand gently, offering comfort without words. Her vulnerability hit her hard, a raw honesty that cut through the tension between them.

“But Amanda found out, and I’ve never seen her so mad.

That’s what it took to make me realize I wasn’t as alone as I thought I was.

She convinced me to fight,” Jamie said. “I survived, obviously.” A sad smile appeared before quickly fading.

“But it’s not over, Beth. It’s never going to be over.

The doctors, they told me it’s not a matter of if the cancer comes back, but when .

It could be years, or it could be months. ”

Jamie’s voice strained, and she looked away, her fists clenching in her lap.

“How can I ask anyone to take that on? To watch me go through that?” She laughed bitterly, but it was hollow.

“I’m a bad investment, Beth. Damaged goods.

You deserve someone who can give you a future—not someone with an expiration date hanging over their head. ”

Beth’s chest ached at the quiet resignation in Jamie’s voice. She could hear the pain beneath it, the fear Jamie had been carrying alone for so long. She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. Jamie’s voice was filled with such sadness, such quiet certainty that she was broken beyond repair.

“You’re not damaged, Jamie,” she whispered, squeezing her hand again.

Jamie shook her head, pulling her hand away.

“You don’t get it. I don’t know how much time I have, and even if I did, I don’t know if I’d be worth it.

” She laughed bitterly. “I’ve never been somebody to anybody.

I don’t know how to be in something real.

I run from everything. And you deserve better than someone who’s going to drag you into this mess while simultaneously pushing you away. ”

Beth opened her mouth to protest, to tell Jamie she was wrong, that she was worth it, but Jamie cut her off.

“If there’s even a part of you that thinks you could make things work with Sarah, you should try.

She’s safe, Beth. You two have a history, a family.

She’s not going to hurt you the way I will.

You’ve got a chance to fix things with her, to rebuild.

I don’t want to be the thing that keeps you from doing that. ”

Was Jamie really telling her to go back to Sarah? To choose the “safe” option, the path that was easier but didn’t make her feel alive the way Jamie did?

She couldn’t breathe. Jamie’s words had taken the air with them.

How had she read all of this so wrong? She wanted to say anything, to make Jamie understand that she wasn’t a burden—she wasn’t too much.

That she was worthy of being with someone, with her.

But all the words felt clumsy, inadequate in the face of Jamie’s pain.

Beth’s heart ached with the truth of it.

She could feel herself trembling as she reached out, her hand finding Jamie’s once more as she said her name, her voice soft and pleading.

“Jamie, I don’t care about the risk. I don’t want to be safe. I want you.”

There it was. Out there in the open. She wanted Jamie, and she had said it out loud.

Jamie’s dark eyes pleaded with her to understand as they filled with sadness, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“But I can’t give you what you want, Beth.

Not in the ways you deserve. And if you have even the smallest part of you that thinks you and Sarah could work, you owe it to yourself to try. You owe it to Lily, too.”

She shook her head, quickly wiping at the tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes.

No. She wanted to tell Jamie she was wrong and she was willing to take that leap with her.

But before she could say anything, the sound of the front door swinging open made them jump, and Lily’s voice rang out. “Mama! Have you seen my tablet?”

They jumped apart like they’d been caught, the sudden slam of the door shattering the fragile moment between them.

Beth’s heart raced as she turned toward the doorway, panic surging through her.

Lily. She feverishly wiped at her eyes, trying to eliminate all signs of tears.

She didn’t want Lily to see her like that.

Lily’s voice echoed down the hall and out of sight. “Mom’s in the car, and she’s waiting, and I need to find it quick. It has Dylan’s present on it.”

Beth’s pulse pounded in her ears as Lily strolled into the living room, completely oblivious to the charged air between them.

She quickly peeked at her phone and noticed two missed calls from Sarah and a handful of text messages from Lily, no doubt trying to get a hold of her about the whereabouts of Lily’s tablet.

“Oh, hi, Jamie. What are you doing here?” Lily’s eyes darted between Jamie and Beth, a small smirk tugging at her lips, before slipping into concern when her eyes landed on Beth.

Her eyes connected with Lily’s, and for a moment, she was frozen as the realization hit her uncomfortably.

Jamie had been thinking about how the possible implications of them together would impact not only the two of them but Lily as well.

Beth had been so focused on her wants—it only now hit her how much this could affect Lily, too.

Guilt crept in, sliding along her thoughts.

She pulled her cardigan tightly around her.

Jamie stood quickly, her posture stiff, trying to maintain her composure. “Dropping off your tablet,” she said, holding up the device, her voice too casual as she handed it to Lily.

Lily paused for a second, her eyes flicking between them before she shrugged it off, deciding not to ask.

“Thanks, Jamie. You’re the best,” she said, still smiling, but with a slight tilt of her head like she could sense something was off.

She turned to Beth and wrapped her in a quick hug. “Bye, Mom. Love you.”

Beth forced a smile, trying to keep her voice steady as her pulse raced. “Love you. Have fun, Lils.”

Lily cast one more glance between the two women before turning and heading back toward the door, leaving Beth and Jamie standing awkwardly in the living room.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, the silence between them felt suffocating. Jamie shifted uncomfortably, her eyes avoiding Beth’s.

“I should go,” Jamie choked out, and Beth was sure she heard a hint of regret. “I’m... I’m sorry.”

Beth stood there for a moment, Jamie’s words still fresh in her mind. Her heart ached, but she wasn’t about to let Jamie walk out without saying what had been weighing on her for weeks. Not this time.

“I don’t want you to go, Jamie,” Beth said quietly, taking a step forward. Her tone was steady but soft, vulnerable in a way that wasn’t desperate, simply honest. “You don’t have to leave.”

Jamie sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “But I do,” she said. “This... isn’t fair to you or me now.”

Beth took another step closer, her arms uncrossing loosely. “Why do you get to decide what’s fair for me?” she asked gently, her voice lacking any edge. “I know what I want, Jamie. I’ve known for a while now. And I think you know it, too.” She reached out, taking Jamie’s hand in her own.

Jamie’s eyes flicked up, meeting Beth’s gaze for a moment before she looked away again.

“I wish it were that simple. I so wish it were as simple as wanting you.” Jamie’s eyes met Beth’s for a long, charged moment, and for the first time, Beth saw the full depth of Jamie’s inner struggle.

“Because I want you, too,” Jamie admitted.

“God, of course I do, Beth. But it doesn’t matter, because I can’t give you what you deserve. ”

Beth opened her mouth to argue, but Jamie stopped her with a look—one that held more emotion than Beth had ever seen from her.

“You’re amazing and I wish things could be different. I wish I could be what you need.”

Beth felt a lump form in her throat. The vulnerability in Jamie’s voice brining a fresh wave of sadness, but she knew couldn’t force this.

“Me too.” She sniffed, realizing silent tears were streaming down her cheeks. “But I guess the only difference is that I’m not afraid of the risks if it means getting to be with you.”

Jamie didn’t reply as she gave Beth a long, searching stare. “I’ve got to go,” Jamie whispered, her voice strained. “But I’m sorry. I really am.”

“I know,” Beth said simply. She could feel the sincerity in Jamie’s voice.

Without another word, Jamie turned and walked toward the door.

She hesitated, her hand resting on the doorknob, and for a moment, Beth pleaded in her head for Jamie to turn around, to tell her she changed her mind.

But she didn’t look back before slipping outside, closing the door quietly behind her.

Beth stood in the middle of the living room, her heart aching, the connection between them still pulsing but now out of reach.