Page 66 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

Beth had never given much thought to mammograms.

She had gotten her first one the year before, at forty, just a routine screening—her doctor had recommended it as a preventative measure.

She hadn’t been nervous. Hadn’t thought much about it at all, really.

It had been another appointment to check off her list, like a dental cleaning or an annual physical.

But as she sat beside Jamie in the hospital waiting room, she realized how naive that had been.

Jamie hadn’t spoken much on the ride over. Beth had let her be, filling the silence with music and sneaking occasional glances at Jamie. The nervous energy was beneath the surface, but Jamie held herself together the way she always did—tight, composed, and in control.

Now, sitting shoulder to shoulder in the waiting area, she saw the cracks forming.

Jamie was gripping the armrests of the chair too tightly. Her shoulders were rigid, her leg bouncing slightly, a nervous tick Beth rarely saw in her. The air smelled like antiseptic and freshly brewed coffee from the cart down the hall, and the fluorescent lights overhead were harsh and impersonal.

She instinctively slid her hand over Jamie’s knee, causing her to still, and she gave a gentle squeeze.

Their eyes met, and she attempted to pass a silent reassurance between them.

A door opened, drawing their attention, and a nurse called Jamie’s name.

A small breath escaped Jamie before she pushed herself up to stand.

Beth stood too.

“I’ve got to do this part solo,” she said, with a small smile. Beth knew that. She wrapped her arms around Jamie anyway.

“I love you. You’ve got this. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

Jamie’s eyes met hers. Beth knew she couldn’t go with her, but she wanted to. More than anything, she wanted to hold Jamie’s hand, to be there in that cold, sterile room and remind her that she wasn’t alone. But this was something Jamie had to do on her own.

Beth reached out, letting her fingers brush against Jamie’s wrist before curling around her hand.

Jamie nodded once, letting out the breath she had been holding, and then she was gone, disappearing through double doors.

Beth sat back down, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in her chest. She folded her hands in her lap, glancing around the waiting room, and that’s when she really started to notice.

A woman across from her was clutching a rosary, her lips moving in silent prayer. Her hands trembled slightly as she rolled the beads between her fingers.

To Beth’s left, another woman—probably in her early forties—was bouncing her knee uncontrollably, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She was staring at the floor, her expression unreadable but tense.

Everywhere Beth looked, someone was waiting—for answers, for reassurance, for news that could change everything.

And Jamie had been doing this by herself every year since she was twenty-four.

A lump formed in her throat as that fact landed. Jamie had never once let on how much these appointments took out of her. But now, sitting here—watching, waiting—Beth felt it.

This wasn’t just an annual routine.

This was a gamble, a test of time.

For Jamie, these appointments weren’t about prevention. They were about survival. Beth had never had to think about that before.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. All she could do now was wait.

An hour later, the water stretched wide around them, dark and endless, the gentle rocking of the ferry rhythmic beneath their feet.

The Seattle skyline shimmered in the distance, golden lights reflecting against the inky surface of the Sound.

It was peaceful, almost eerily so, given how heavy Beth’s heart still felt.

Jamie stood beside her at the railing, staring out at the water. She hadn’t said much since they’d walked out of the hospital, only that everything had gone as expected and that she would get her results in a week or so.

Beth hadn’t pushed for more. She knew that wasn’t what Jamie needed. She needed her to be there for her to lean on when she was ready.

She slipped an arm around Jamie’s waist, pressing herself into her side.

Jamie’s body eased into the touch, into her.

Beth nuzzled into her shoulder, her voice barely above the wind. “I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

She pulled back enough to meet Jamie’s eyes. “For showing up. For doing this, year after year, even though I know how much it scares you. For carrying all of this alone, even when you don’t have to.” She squeezed Jamie’s side gently. “You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Jamie’s throat bobbed. “It doesn’t feel like strength,” she admitted.

“I think that’s what makes it real,” she said, her chest aching at the quiet honesty in Jamie’s voice. “You’re not fearless, Jamie. But you still show up every day. You show up for me, for Lily. You show up for yourself. And that’s what makes you the strongest person I know.”

Jamie inhaled sharply, like she was about to respond, but then she nodded, her hand slipping out of her pocket to thread her fingers through Beth’s.

Beth held on, letting the calm wind whip around them, the ferry cutting through the dark water, and together, they stood in silence, each comforted by the presence of the other.

“Hey, Beth,” Jamie said, so softly Beth almost missed it. “Thanks for coming today. Everything feels more manageable when you’re around.”

Beth felt the smile spread through her. “I’m always here for you, Jamie. That’s what we do for the people we love.”

A comfortable silence stretched between them again, their fingers still laced together, and Beth couldn’t help but find Jamie’s warm grip to be grounding. She wanted to give Jamie the space she needed, but she could feel the shift already moving beneath the surface.

She felt it in the way Jamie’s thumb absently brushed over the back of her hand. In the way her breath hitched, barely noticeable, before she exhaled again.

Beth turned slightly, watching her. “What is it?” she asked softly.

Jamie swallowed, her eyes fixed on the dark water ahead, like she was searching for the right words in the waves. She tightened her grip, like she needed the anchor. She opened her mouth once, then closed it again before letting out a slow breath, shifting her weight. Then, finally, she said...

“I want to move in with you.”

“You want to what?” she said, before she even processed Jamie’s words as her fingers instinctively tightened around Jamie’s.

She had let herself believe this might take longer, that Jamie still needed more time.

But now Jamie was standing in front of her, saying the thing she had so badly wanted to hear.

Jamie turned to her now, eyes steady, even as Beth saw the nerves flicker beneath the surface.

“I want to move in with you,” she repeated, firmer this time.

“I know I hesitated before, and I know I hurt you by not having an answer when you asked. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to. It was because I was scared.”

Jamie licked her lips, shaking her head slightly.

“I’ve been scared of so many things, Beth.

Of rushing. Of screwing this up. Of waking up one day and realizing I let myself have too much, that I let myself be too happy, and then having it all ripped away.

” She let out a breath, shaking her head at herself.

“But today—sitting in that waiting room, knowing you were there waiting for me—it hit me.” Jamie’s voice dropped, quiet but sure.

“I don’t want to spend any more time being scared of something that hasn’t happened.

I don’t want to keep holding back just because I might lose you someday, when the truth is, if I keep shutting you out—if I keep letting fear make my choices for me—I’ll lose you anyway, and that’s not what I want. ”

Beth felt her throat tighten, her eyes stinging. “Jamie...”

Jamie exhaled, her other hand coming up to cradle Beth’s face.

“I don’t want to be careful with this anymore.

I want to come home to you every night. I want to wake up with you every morning.

I want to build a home together—our space, our life.

” She swallowed hard, her voice cracking slightly.

“I want you every day, for as long as I get to have you.”

A disbelieving smile broke through as she cupped Jamie’s hand over her cheek.

“You’re sure?” she whispered, even though she already knew the answer.

Jamie let out a soft, breathy laugh, like she couldn’t believe Beth even had to ask. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

She didn’t give her a chance to say anything else before surging forward, capturing Jamie’s lips in a kiss that was as much relief as it was love, her hands tangling in Jamie’s curls as she pulled her in closer.

Jamie kissed her back just as fiercely, her grip on Beth tightening like she was holding onto something she planned to never let go of.

When they finally pulled back, foreheads resting together, she couldn’t help her own laugh. “You know, you really buried the lede there.”

“I like to keep things interesting.” Jamie grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Beth shook her head fondly before nudging Jamie’s nose with hers. “You’re really doing this? Moving in?”

“I am.”

Beth exhaled slowly, letting the moment settle deep in her chest before whispering, “Welcome home, Jamie,” just as Bainbridge Island came into view, the small pinpricks of light growing larger as the ferry approached.

Jamie turned to her, her smile now stretched broadly across her face, voice steady in a way that left no room for doubt. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Home.”

Beth let the word settle, let it fill her chest the way Jamie always did. She had waited for this. For Jamie to choose this, choose them. And now, finally, she had.