Page 32 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

TWELVE

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 damn will they, won’t they thing 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.

“How the fuck did this all get so messy?” Jamie’s voice was small, vulnerable in a way she rarely let herself be. She buried her face in her hands, her curls spilling around her, creating a curtain between her and the outside world.

Amanda reached out to squeeze Jamie’s hand.

“I told Beth to choose Sarah,” she groaned.

“Well, that was dumb, considering you’re head over heels for her.” Amanda said, giving her a playful shove.

“I can’t risk hurting her. And it’s not just Beth; it’s Lily, too. I—I care too much about them to let them get caught up in my mess.”

“If it does happen, you’ll deal with it. You’ll figure it out. But you’re missing your chance in the first place by doing nothing. Don’t let Beth slip away because you’re scared. And if you care about Lily, too—which I know you do—you’ll figure out how to handle this together.”

Jamie paused at the mention of Lily. She hadn’t thought of it that way—hadn’t let herself. Could she really walk away now, after everything?

Jamie’s jaw clenched as her hands tightened around the blanket.

“You’re always in your own way, Lyons, but you’ve got a chance to change that. Maybe it’s time to step aside and let yourself feel something real,” Amanda said quietly.

Jamie exhaled a long, slow breath that seemed to carry the tension in her chest. She hated that Amanda was right, but she was.

“You deserve happiness, Jamie. You can’t keep punishing yourself for things outside your control. You didn’t ask to get cancer. You just did. But you survived. And, to be honest, if that cancer even thinks about coming back, I will kick its ass for you.”

The word “survived” felt like a double-edged sword.

Sure, she’d made it out alive, but every doctor’s appointment, every scan, reminded her that survival wasn’t guaranteed—just borrowed time.

Grateful and annoyed simultaneously, she glanced over at her best friend. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

Amanda grinned. “I know, but you love me anyway.”

Jamie couldn’t help but laugh, the sound breaking through the heaviness in the room. “Yeah, I do.”

Amanda nudged her with her foot. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

Jamie sighed, staring at the TV again, but her mind was a little clearer this time. “I don’t know yet... but maybe it’s time I figure it out.”

Amanda’s voice softened, her teasing gone. “You care about both of them. That’s not a bad thing, Jamie. But pulling away because you’re scared? That’s not the answer either. Don’t make that decision for Beth, or Lily. Let them choose you if that’s what they want.”

She stared at the loose thread in her lap, tugging at it absently as she sat in the feeling of her own fear. “And if they get hurt because of me?”

“Then you deal with it together,” Amanda said simply.

The next day, Jamie stood at the edge of the gym floor, arms crossed, watching Lily move through her floor routine with practiced grace.

All her weeks of hard work had paid off.

Her form was solid, her tumbling clean, but Jamie could see the tightness in her movement, the slight hesitation in her landings.

Her evaluation with the US Gymnastics Federation was coming soon, and Jamie could tell that pressure weighed heavily on Lily.

After all, this evaluation was the first obstacle to clear Lily’s path to the Olympics.

The gym hummed with the familiar sounds of feet pounding the mats, the muted clang of uneven bars, and the distant chatter of parents and kids.

The smell of chalk dust and sweat clung to the air, making everything feel a bit heavier.

The overhead lights buzzed, casting a sterile glow on the equipment.

“Good, Lily, good,” Jamie called out, as Lily finished her final pass, but there was a faint waver in her landing. Subtle, only perceptible to experienced eyes. She could sense the nerves underneath Lily’s usually confident form. The kid was pushing hard, maybe too hard.