Page 37 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

She shifted uncomfortably at Sean’s assertion. “What?—”

“Oh, come on, Beth.” Sean shook his head. “You’ve spent your whole life waiting. Waiting for the right moment, the perfect sign, for things to fix themselves. But life doesn’t work that way. Sometimes you have to leap, even if it means falling on your face.”

Beth glanced away, the words she’d been avoiding bubbling up, too thick to swallow. “Jamie doesn’t want me. She thinks she’s too much of a risk.”

Beth shifted, chewing on her bottom lip as she paced in front of Sean, walking him through all the things that had been said and not said between herself and Jamie in the past few weeks.

Once she started, it was like the dam broke.

Every unspoken word and buried feeling came rushing out, and Beth hadn’t realized how much she had even needed to talk about it until she let it all go.

The relief was immediate, but so was the fear—what if speaking it all aloud made it more real?

“It’s like there’s always this tension, but it’s unspoken. She looks at me like there’s more she wants to say, but then she holds back, and I do the same.”

“That is definitely complicated,” Sean said.

“It sounds like she’s scared, but also like you’re scared too.

It’s easier to think Jamie’s the one pulling away, but you’re doing the same thing, just for different reasons.

Which I think is understandable...” He paused.

“Do you want my advice, or do you want someone to listen?”

Beth contemplated for a moment before responding. “Advice,” she said slowly.

“It sounds like you two need to talk. Like, actually talk. Lay it all out there and see if there is anything truly worth exploring between you.”

She thought about what Sean was saying. He was right. In the few short weeks she had known Jamie, so much had built up and so fast, and there were so many things she needed to talk to her about. But she was scared—scared of what Jamie’s answers would be.

“What if she doesn’t want this, like she’s been saying? What if I lose her completely?” Beth’s voice cracked, and she hated how exposed she felt. It was easier to leave things as they were—half-spoken, unfinished—than to risk destroying whatever fragile thing they had built between them.

“I think it’s worth a shot. Put it out there and see if it’s something she’d be interested in.

She might say no, but she might surprise you and say yes.

” Sean crossed the room, his hand trailing over the edge of a half-finished painting, pausing as he glanced back at her.

“You’re always waiting for the right time, Beth, but you know what?

Sometimes there isn’t a right time. You just have to go for it. ”

She stared at him. The thought of having that type of conversation with Jamie filled her with anxiety, not because of the seriousness of it but because of the fear that Jamie wouldn’t want the same things she did.

She didn’t respond to Sean; she just turned her attention to the canvas in front of her, the vibrant colors swimming in front of her eyes. There was too much messiness.

Sean sighed, pushing off the table. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to lecture you about your love life, although I’m obviously right.”

Beth smiled despite herself, shaking her head. “Obviously.”

“Are you still good to be my plus-one to that charity gala at the end of the month?” Sean asked, as he walked toward the door, his tone light but pointed. “Because I already RSVP’d yes for you.”

Beth groaned, rolling her eyes. “I haven’t forgotten. Do I have to wear something fancy?”

“Beth, it’s a gala,” Sean teased, grinning over his shoulder as he opened the door.

“And you know I’ll be judging your outfit.

Don’t embarrass me.” He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, hoisting her off the ground slightly before setting her back down.

“And Beth, if you keep waiting for Jamie to make the first move, you’ll lose her.

People don’t wait around forever, especially if they’re scared.

Sometimes, you need to be the one to take that first step.

” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before turning toward his car.

“I’ll do my best,” Beth called after him, as she watched him leave.

After Sean left, the house felt too quiet, too big.

Beth reentered her studio and stared at the canvas in front of her, the colors swirling together, a tangled mess of emotion.

She knew she had to talk to Jamie, but the thought of it made her heart race, fear twisting through her like a coiled spring. What if it all fell apart?

The next day, Beth scrambled to meet Sarah and Lily at the gym.

It was the day of Lily’s evaluation with the US Gymnastics Federation, and Beth was kicking herself for being late.

She threw her Land Rover into park and hurried inside the gym and up to the parents’ viewing area, sliding into the open seat next to Sarah.

“You’re cutting it a little close,” she teased.

“You know me, I love to live on the edge.” She smirked as Sarah rolled her eyes at her.

There was still tension present between the two of them, a familiar one she remembered from the weeks following their divorce. But, unlike then, Beth knew it would fade with time, and that they—she and Sarah—would find their balance again. They always did.

The faint echo of Lily’s feet hitting the mat reverberated through the gym, each landing precise, her movements somehow simultaneously sharp and fluid.

Beth’s fingers tapped nervously against the side of her chair.

Lily had put in so much hard work and training for this day, the day that would determine whether or not she’d qualify for the Senior Elite level and keep her Olympic dream alive.

Sarah sat beside her, arms crossed, her jaw tight with focus.

Beth stole a glance at Sarah, catching the familiar steely glint in her eyes.

The competitive fire that had always been a core part of her personality burned bright today.

Sarah leaned forward, her body taut with tension, as though she could will Lily into success through sheer determination.

On the other hand, Beth was caught between the pride swelling in her chest and the visceral urge to pull Lily back, to shield her from the inevitable dangers of such high-risk moves.

Lily was fearless. She had inherited Sarah’s intensity and drive, but she had also picked up something else.

Artistry, a fluid grace that Beth had watched bloom over the last few weeks under Jamie’s guidance.

She was caught between fear and awe as she watched as her daughter soared through her routine.

Her eyes strayed to Jamie, who stood beyond the mat, a steady force in Lily’s corner.

Every small gesture—every approving nod or whispered encouragement—seemed to ease Lily’s nerves.

Jamie didn’t have to be loud or flashy to make her presence felt.

It was in how she watched, so fully engaged, like Lily was the only person in the room who mattered.

Beth felt that familiar twinge pull toward the quiet confidence Jamie exuded, but with that pull came a sinking realization that Jamie’s presence—so grounding, so comforting—might soon become nothing more than a memory, a fleeting moment.

The thought of Jamie slipping out of their lives felt like a slow loss she hadn’t fully prepared for.

The evaluator stood nearby, clipboard in hand, assessing every move, every breath, every extension of Lily’s body. Amanda was off to the side, her arms crossed, occasionally whispering to Jamie when Lily completed a difficult pass.

Beth’s eyes flicked back to Sarah. “She’s got this,” Sarah said, not taking her eyes off Lily as she moved into her final tumbling pass.

Beth nodded but didn’t say anything. She was too anxious, too wrapped up in the familiar tug-of-war between pride and worry.

The height of Lily’s flips, the force she landed with—every element felt like a risk.

But even through her nerves, she couldn’t help but be in awe of her daughter’s sheer talent.

She had always known Lily was special, but seeing her out there now, at this level, was something else entirely.

Pride swelled deep in her as she watched her movements.

The final move came—a double layout. Beth instinctively held her breath as Lily launched herself into the air, the world slowing around her daughter’s gravity-defying body.

Time stopped for a moment as her mind raced with all the things that could go wrong.

And then, Lily landed, solid and strong, her feet firmly planted on the mat.

Amanda let out a small cheer, and Jamie gave a soft, approving nod. The evaluator scribbled notes on her clipboard, her expression neutral.

Relief washed over her—Lily had done it.

“See, that’s how you do it,” Sarah said, turning to her with a wide smile. “Our baby is one step closer to the Olympics.”

“Did you ever think this was going to be our life?” Beth mused.

“Not in a million years, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” Sarah placed her hand on Beth’s, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I mean it, Beth. You and Lily are my family, even if you and I aren’t—you know—‘you and I’ anymore.”

Her intense gaze softened as Beth nodded in understanding. “Family always,” she whispered.

As Beth and Sarah made their way down to the gym floor, the tension from earlier dissipated. This wasn’t about them—it was about Lily. It had always been about Lily.

The evaluator exchanged a few words with Jamie and Amanda before turning to the family, her face calm and professional. “Lily, I’m pleased to say that you’ve passed your evaluation. You’re eligible to compete at the Senior Elite level this season.”

Beth’s heart soared, and she saw a flash of joy cross Sarah’s face, too. They turned to Lily, whose excitement poured from her. Sarah hugged Lily tight, whispering praise Beth couldn’t hear but knew was full of pride.

“You did it, kiddo,” Jamie said softly, as Lily turned to her, offering a high-five.

Lily’s voice wavered as she blurted out the question that had clearly been weighing on her.

“Does this mean you’re staying, Jamie? You’re not going back to Oregon, right?

” Her eyes were wide, hopeful, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as if bracing for the worst. As Beth watched her daughter—so confident in the gym, yet unsure now—something pulled at her.

The possibility of losing Jamie’s presence felt all too real.

Her stomach dropped, her pulse quickening as she turned her attention to Jamie. She saw the way Jamie’s expression faltered for a moment. Beth hadn’t considered that Lily would be so direct, but of course she would. That was who she was.

Jamie blinked, her face softening. “Lily, I—” she began, clearly caught off guard.

Beth’s breath caught in her chest as Jamie hesitated.

Jamie never hesitated. She’d always been so steady, so sure.

But now, her eyes flickered—just for a second—toward Beth, and in that brief glance, Beth saw everything Jamie was too afraid to say.

She wasn’t staying. She had already made up her mind.

“I’m here for now,” she whispered, only, she wasn’t looking at Lily. Instead her eyes met Beth’s.

She knew it wasn’t the answer Lily wanted—or the answer she wanted. But the tone of Jamie’s voice, the way she quickly averted her eyes, told her Jamie was struggling with more than the logistics of her decision.

Lily’s face fell, her posture stiffening.

“That’s not a yes,” Lily muttered, her shoulders slumping.

The confidence that usually radiated from her seemed to vanish, replaced by the quiet veil of disappointment.

Jamie was supposed to be steady, like the floor beneath her feet, but now, even that felt uncertain.

Jamie glanced at Beth, her eyes soft but conflicted. Their gazes locked, and she realized how deeply the stakes had risen—not only for Lily’s gymnastics career, but for all of them.

Jamie shifted on her feet as she glanced between Lily, Beth, and Sarah. “I’ll be here through the end of December, as planned,” she said finally. “But even after I leave, I’ll always be here for you, Lily. Any time you need me. I hope you know that.”

Lily crossed her arms. “I know but, for the record, I don’t like this at all,” she muttered, her voice firm but trembling enough for Beth to catch it. “Remember, my birthday is next week, and you staying for good would make a really awesome present.”

Jamie had sidestepped the real answer, they both knew it. So she stood there, with Sarah and Lily, their daughter’s future looking bright and her path to the Olympics clear, knowing this wasn’t the time to press for answers.

As they left the gym—Lily swinging her gym bag over her shoulder, and Sarah chatting animatedly with Amanda, her competitive energy still buzzing from the evaluation—Beth’s attention was elsewhere.

She couldn’t ignore the distance growing between her and Jamie, nor the sinking feeling that time was running out to say what she needed to say.