Page 51 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

EIGHTEEN

JAMIE

Jamie had just finished her run. Skin still flushed from the cold evening air, she reveled in the steady rhythm of her footsteps on the pavement.

Letting out a long breath, she felt that familiar post-run calm settle over her as she entered her house, kicked off her shoes, and headed to the kitchen. She was starving.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, drawing her attention. Picking it up, she saw Lily’s name and a text.

Lily 7:45 PM

ROUTINE EMERGENCY!!!!!! Can we FaceTime? Need help with now.

Jamie’s lips curled into a smile. Over the past few weeks, these messages from Lily had become a regular occurrence, and though Jamie hadn’t expected it, she found herself looking forward to them.

There was something nice—surprising, even—about being needed by someone in the way Lily needed her. It tugged at a place she’d closed off.

She swiped to answer, and as she waited for the call to connect, Jamie ran a hand through her damp hair.

This was new—being needed like this. She’d told herself a dozen times to keep things simple, offer advice, and move on, but it never worked that way.

Much like Beth, Lily seemed to have that same knack for slipping past every defense Jamie put up, like she belonged there, nestled into the parts of Jamie that she usually kept guarded.

Lily’s face appeared on the screen. Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, cheeks flushed, and an overall chaotic nature to her today.

“Hey, kid! What’s the emergency?”

Lily pouted angrily, tucking a stray strand of familiar blonde, wavy hair behind her ear. Jamie felt a pang of affection she wasn’t quite prepared for.

“My entire beam routine, that’s what.”

“Well, I doubt that,” Jamie said, with a small laugh, tilting her head to get a better look at Lily. “Because I know I left you just a few weeks ago with a flawless beam routine.” She squinted at the screen. “Still at the gym? What did I tell you about overdoing it?”

Lily rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

“You told me not to.” She adjusted her phone to show the balance beam in the background.

“I got Amanda to stay late with me tonight so I could get a little more practice in before this weekend. This classic is huge. I need to do well.”

Worry nagged Jamie at Lily’s words. She recognized that drive all too well—the relentless need to push further, to prove to yourself and maybe to everyone else watching, too. It had been her downfall more than once, and here she was, watching it play out again in Lily.

“I’ve got my dismount down, but things still feel a little off, you know? Here, watch.”

Jamie leaned forward, eyes narrowing as Lily demonstrated her dismount.

Jamie’s eyes tracked every movement with the hyper-focus of someone who’d been there—who’d sacrificed to perfect these exact moments.

Watching Lily was like looking in a mirror and seeing a younger, purer version of herself, untouched by the harsh realities that had come later.

She wanted more than anything to protect Lily from that side of the sport.

She wished someone had told her back then that it was okay to let go of the need for perfection.

Lily picked up the phone again, exasperation all over her features.

Jamie’s heart tugged in response. She wanted to tell Lily she was perfect and didn’t need to push so hard, but she knew Lily wouldn’t hear it that way.

She wasn’t used to this instinct to reassure and comfort.

So, instead, she kept her tone light but steady.

“I think I know what’s going on.” Jamie spoke slowly, her voice serious. “Your routine isn’t the problem. It’s your headspace.”

Lily’s big blue eyes widened slightly, her shoulders relaxing almost like she’d been waiting for someone to see her like that. She knew what Lily was feeling—knowing that the technique was there but feeling like it was still off.

“How do you do that?” Lily asked softly. “You always know when my head’s not in a great place. Like that day in the gym where you taught me how to box.”

“Because I understand the pressure you’re under. Remember? I went through all of this, too. Talk to me, Gallagher, what’s going through your head?”

Lily chewed the inside of her cheek, and Jamie saw that familiar conflict flicker across her face—the same look she’d worn countless times herself, back when every performance felt like it might be her last shot at something that mattered.

“I keep thinking about everything I need to get perfect—the landing, the position, how I’ll look. And now it just feels like I’m forcing it.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Jamie said, her tone soft.

“It’s your first Classic as a Senior Elite gymnast. Feeling pressure is normal, but don’t let that mess with your head.

If you’ve got the technique, the rest is breathing and letting go.

And, trust me, I know you’ve got the technique, because I just spent the last three months with you working on it. ”

She paused, watching Lily’s expression closely. She wanted Lily to feel proud of herself and free of self-doubt. But the funny thing was, she didn’t want it just for Lily’s sake—she wanted it because she cared about this kid, maybe more than she was ready to admit.

“You know, I used to get so caught up in what other people would think—whether they’d think I deserved to be out there or if I looked ‘perfect’ enough,” Jamie said.

“But when I focused on being in it and having fun, that’s when I did my best. And you”—she pointed at the screen—“have done the work. Trust yourself.”

Lily’s lips curved into a smile. Jamie felt a surge of pride so fierce that it surprised her. She saw herself in Lily—the parts of herself she wished she could go back and protect. In a way, it was like healing a part of her she hadn’t known was broken.

“So, just let myself be in it. Right. Got it,” Lily said, nodding, her confidence returning bit by bit.

They shared a quiet moment, and Jamie marveled at the strange warmth in her chest. It was unsettling, feeling connected to Lily.

She wasn’t supposed to get attached like this.

She wasn’t supposed to want to guide or protect her.

But she did. She wanted to be there in whatever way Lily needed, even if it meant stepping outside of the familiar role of coach and becoming something else entirely.

Lily’s voice pulled her back. “Can I ask you a kinda random question?”

“Sure. Shoot.”

Lily hesitated, glancing away. “I—well, I mean, you and my mom. You guys talk a lot, right?”

Jamie’s heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question, her thoughts stumbling over themselves.

She and Beth agreed to keep things quiet, letting Lily focus on her training.

But as Lily continued, Jamie felt a pang of worry.

Was she doing the right thing? Would Lily be hurt if she found out they’d kept this from her?

“Uh, yeah, we do.” She tried to sound nonchalant. “She’s, you know, a great person to talk to.”

Jamie’s heart thudded in her chest, but she forced a smile.

Lily didn’t seem entirely convinced, and Jamie suddenly worried she’d been too obvious.

Play it cool , she reminded herself, feeling as if she were caught in a delicate dance, trying to be present for both Lily and Beth without crossing invisible lines.

Lily tossed her an eyeroll that even Jamie could read through the phone as Okay, weirdo.

“Yeah, well, I think she really likes being your friend. She’s been—I don’t know—happier lately.

Lots of off-key singing happening around the house.

” Her eyes darted back to Jamie’s face, studying her. “I missed seeing that part of her.”

Jamie felt a strange tightness in her throat. She cleared it, struggling to keep her voice light. “She’s a great friend to have. And I tend to be very picky with my friends. Consider yourself lucky you made the cut.” Yeah, it was definitely time to steer the conversation to safer territory.

Lily’s smile grew, but she didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Thanks. I needed that,” she murmured, glancing away briefly before looking back.

“I don’t know why, but... it feels good to have someone to talk to about all this stuff.

My moms try to understand, but they don’t really get it, you know?

” She paused, hesitant. “I wish you could come this weekend. I don’t feel so nervous when you’re around. ”

Jamie felt the tightness in her chest grow, an unexpected swell of emotion that warmed and unsettled her.

She’d never considered herself someone who could be a source of comfort, especially not to someone like Lily.

It was one thing to care about Beth, to navigate that messy terrain with an adult who understood the complexities of love and vulnerability.

But Lily... She was different. She was young, and she trusted Jamie in a precious and terrifying way.

“Any time, Lily. I mean that. Day or night, you call me,” Jamie said.

“Yeah, I know.”

Jamie felt the weight of everything settle around them, binding them in an unspoken way. She’d become a support for Lily—in a way she hadn’t expected to be. And, even though it scared her, a part of her wanted to hold onto it, to let herself be there for Lily in a way she never had for anyone else.

The clatter of the metal doors turned Lily’s attention away. “Mom’s here to pick me up. Actually, this is perfect timing. She can hold the phone so you can get a closer view of my dismount.”

“I thought we agreed it was perfect.”

“One more time, please?” Jamie rolled her eyes as Lily flipped the view, the camera jostling. After some back and forth, Beth’s face came into view.

“You’d think she thinks I don’t know how to use a phone,” Beth said, with a smirk, then softened her voice. “Hey, stranger.”