Page 73 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

Sean sighed dramatically. “Pat’s friend owned it before. He decided his heart wasn’t really in it after his last breakup. So, I figured, why not? What’s one more business venture?”

Beth shook her head. Of course Sean would buy a café on the island just because he could .

“Did anyone stop to think that maybe I moved out here to escape you people? First Sarah, now you two taking over my favorite café?” She rolled her eyes.

“Can’t escape me, darling. I’m everywhere.” He eyed her more closely this time. “You look like hell, by the way.”

“And I think by that he means, what can we get you?” Pat said, turning back to the espresso machine.

Beth shot Sean a look that she intended to say Fuck you before turning to Pat. “Can I get an iced lavender oat-milk latte, please?” She hesitated. “Actually, make it two.”

Pat raised a brow but didn’t say anything as he set about making the drinks.

Sean, however, wasn’t as subtle.

“So, Jamie resurfaced, then?”

“Yeah,” Beth answered shortly, hoping he’d get the hint that she didn’t want to talk about it. No such luck unfortunately.

“You guys talk?”

Beth pressed her lips together, rubbing at the back of her neck. “Some.”

Sean didn’t push, just nodded like he knew there was more to it. Which, of course, there was.

Pat slid the coffees across the counter, and Beth reached for them, turning to leave.

“We’ll talk more about the UCLA offer,” Sean said, but she waved him off as the door swung shut behind her. She was definitely not in the mood to talk about that yet.

By the time Beth got back, the house was still quiet.

She kicked off her shoes, balancing the cups in her hands as she made her way into the kitchen—only to find Jamie already up, sitting at the counter.

She looked better. Not good , exactly, but at least a little more there . She had changed into sweatpants and one of Beth’s old hoodies, her damp hair curling at the ends.

Beth set the coffees down, watching Jamie thoughtfully, before pushing one across the counter toward her with a cautious smile. The tension in the kitchen felt awkward, and she couldn’t help but tiptoe around Jamie, not wanting to push her back toward breaking point.

Jamie hesitated, then reached for the cup with both hands, exhaling as she returned the smile.

“Thanks,” she murmured, her voice rough with sleep and the gravity of last night.

Beth leaned against the counter, studying her. “Did you sleep at all?”

Jamie huffed out a dry, humorless laugh. “All of about five minutes.”

Beth tilted her head, voice gentle. “How are you really feeling?”

Jamie didn’t answer right away. She stared down at her coffee like it held the answer. Eventually, she spoke. “Like I don’t know how to do this.”

Beth’s chest ached.

“You don’t have to know how. Just know you don’t have to do it alone,” she said softly.

Jamie’s fingers tightened around her cup. “I don’t know how to not do it alone.”

She reached for Jamie, prying one of her hands from the cup and threading their fingers together. She squeezed gently. “You learn .”

Jamie let out another slow breath, her thumb brushing absently over Beth’s hand. “I—” she started, then stopped.

Beth squeezed her fingers again. “You what?”

“I need to call the doctor’s office.”

Beth nodded. Relief curled in her. “Yeah. You do.”

Jamie inhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face. “Will you—” She hesitated, her voice barely there. “Will you sit with me while I do it?”

She was already nodding. Because much like Jamie asking her to attend the mammogram appointment a few weeks ago, she of course would be there for Jamie in whatever way she needed her.

She shifted closer, pressing a soft kiss to Jamie’s knuckles. “Of course.”

Jamie closed her eyes for a second, nodding. Then she reached for her phone, staring at it like it might detonate in her hands.

Beth didn’t rush her.

She sat there, her hand still wrapped around Jamie’s, holding on.

Jamie braced herself. Then, with Beth beside her, she dialed the number.

The rest of the day passed in a quiet, albeit tentative rhythm.

After Jamie had made the call to the doctor’s office—Beth’s hand clasped firmly over hers the whole time—neither of them had much to say.

Not because there wasn’t more to be said, but because they were both still working their way back to solid ground.

So they settled into a familiar silence, moving around each other through the house, slowly falling back into place.

Now, the sun had dipped low in the sky, casting warm amber light through the living room window.

Beth was curled up in the corner of the couch, a sapphic romance novel about two women tangled in a workplace romance in the military resting in her lap.

Jamie was on the other end, legs stretched out in front of her, phone in hand, catching up on all the women’s sports highlights she had missed over the last couple of days.

Beth turned a page, her eyes scanning the words without absorbing a single one. She sighed, shifting against the cushions.

Jamie didn’t look up from her phone. “Are you going to keep fake-reading that book, or are you just going to admit you can’t focus?” Jamie finally said.

Beth scowled at her, shutting the book with a soft thud. “Shush.”

Jamie smirked, but the amusement didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Beth let out a slow breath, letting the comfortable lull of Jamie’s presence settle over her again. It wasn’t normal yet. Not quite. But it was getting closer.

Then, out of nowhere—like she had been holding it in all day—Jamie spoke.

“Do you still want me to move in?”

That surprised her, rendering her momentarily speechless.

She turned her head, startled by the question’s abruptness. Jamie was still staring at her phone, but she could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers flexed and curled against the device like she was bracing for impact.

Beth already knew the answer.

Yes.

Of course, yes.

But she also knew she couldn’t just say yes and leave it at that. She was still hurt and afraid.

She shifted in her seat, taking her time before answering Jamie’s question as she set the book aside, turning to face Jamie more fully. “I do,” Beth admitted, watching Jamie closely. “But I also need to be honest with you.”

“Okay.” The nervousness in Jamie’s voice disarmed her.

Beth steadied herself. “I’m not the kind of person who takes big steps lightly. I’ve only ever lived with one other person before and said I love you to one other person. And you know how that turned out.”

Jamie nodded, the ghost of understanding flickering in her eyes.

She continued. “But what I feel for you is real. That’s never been the question.

” She swallowed, choosing her words delicately.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have..

. concerns.” She paused, chancing a glance at Jamie, whose brown eyes were focused on her.

“What worries me is that sometimes my patience with people gets me into trouble. I wait. I make excuses. I give chances. And sometimes that means I get hurt.”

Jamie sat up a little straighter, phone forgotten.

Beth met her gaze, needing her to really hear this. “I’m not saying I regret being patient with you. I love you, Jamie, and I really, really want this to work. But I need to know you’re not taking advantage of my patience.”

“I’m not,” she said quickly. “I swear to you, I’m not.”

Beth searched her face, looking for hesitation, for doubt, but all she saw was sincerity, like she always did with Jamie. She wanted to believe her, but something stopped her short.

Softer now, Jamie’s voice wavered. “I know I’ve made mistakes. I know I keep running when things get hard. But it’s not because I don’t love you or because I don’t want this.” She shook her head. “I want to change this part of myself, Beth. I need to.”

She nodded slowly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She wanted to believe that. She did believe that.

But . . .

Beth sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “I’m having a hard time trusting that you’re not going to run the next time things get hard.”

Jamie stiffened but didn’t look away.

Beth let the words sit between them before continuing.

“Because I’ve seen it happen, Jamie. A few times now.

And I know why you do it. I know you’re scared.

I know you’ve been through more in your life than most people could handle in six lifetimes.

” She paused, weighing her next words. “But I can’t—I won’t—build a life with someone who will leave me in the dark when things get overwhelming. I can’t do that to Lily either.”

“I know. I know, and I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

Beth reached out, taking Jamie’s hand between both of hers.

“Then I think you need help,” she said carefully.

Jamie blinked. “What?”

Beth squeezed her fingers. “I mean I think you should see a therapist.”

Jamie stiffened slightly, the resistance there, a knee-jerk reaction.

“What? You think I’m that messed up?” The smallest of smiles cracked at the corner of her mouth as she deflected, but Beth didn’t back down.

“Jamie.” She held her gaze. “You’ve been carrying this fear alone for so long. You’ve built your whole life around surviving. But you don’t have to live like that anymore.”

Jamie swallowed, glancing down at their hands. “I don’t know if I agree with you,” she said slowly.

“I know it’s scary,” Beth continued. “I know it won’t be easy. But I think it would help you.”

Jamie was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, she nodded.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said.

Beth let out a slow breath, relief washing over her.

Jamie glanced up, a small, tentative smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “I’m serious about moving in, you know.”

Beth smirked. “I know.”

“Good.”

Beth smiled softly, then tugged Jamie forward until their foreheads touched, both of them breathing each other in, steady and sure.

Beth finally felt like they were moving forward.

Together.