Page 74 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

TWENTY-EIGHT

JAMIE

Jamie hated this waiting room.

Everything about it—the cold, sterile air, the muted pastel walls, the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights overhead—made her skin crawl.

She sat stiffly in one of the plastic chairs, her knee bouncing up and down as she stared at the closed receptionist’s window. The waiting room was only half-full, but it didn’t matter. She still felt trapped.

Her fingers curled the chair’s armrest like it was the only thing keeping her from bolting.

Beth must have noticed, because she reached over and touched Jamie’s knee warmly, stilling the restless movement. “You’re okay,” she murmured.

“I don’t feel okay.”

Beth squeezed gently. “I know.”

Jamie exhaled through her nose, tilting her head against the chair and staring at the ceiling.

She hated this. She hated how her body still reacted to the smell of disinfectant, how her chest tightened at the sound of distant beeping that always seemed to echo in the hospital, even without a monitor in sight.

Even after all these years, this place—any medical facility, really—felt suffocating.

But Beth was here.

And that made it bearable. Not easy. Not even close. But bearable.

She turned her head slightly, letting her eyes settle on Beth. Her girlfriend seemed so at ease in the doctor’s office. Jamie supposed that made sense—Beth didn’t have her same experiences here. This place didn’t have the possibility of spelling the end for her.

Beth wasn’t afraid of places like this.

Jamie wished she could say the same.

The receptionist’s window slid open with a quiet whoosh, and she flinched at the sound. A nurse called someone else’s name, and she had to stop herself from recoiling at the realization that, eventually, it would be her turn.

She needed a distraction.

“Tell me something,” she muttered to Beth.

“Like what?”

Jamie shrugged. “I don’t know. Just—let’s talk about something that isn’t this.”

Beth hummed, tapping her fingers lightly against Jamie’s leg. “Okay,” she said, tilting her head in thought. Then, she smirked. “I got a spot at an artist-in-residence program at UCLA this summer.”

That got her attention. She turned her head, studying Beth with sudden interest. “Yeah?”

Beth nodded. “Final deadline to accept the residency is next week.”

Jamie’s stomach flipped—not with dread, but excitement. Beth was so damn talented. Of course UCLA wanted her.

She straightened a little in her chair. “That’s amazing,” she said, already thinking of logistics.

“It’s only the summer, right? We can totally make this work.

I can stay here with Lily, and you could come back every few weeks, or we could visit you in LA.

It’s not that far, and...” She trailed off when she caught the amused expression on Beth’s face.

Jamie blinked, confused. “Why aren’t you excited? ”

The smile on her face was weak as her fingers twitched against Jamie’s leg. “I decided not to take it.”

Jamie’s brain short-circuited for a second. Surely she’d misheard her.

“What?”

“I’m not going,” she said just as simply.

Jamie’s mouth opened, then shut. She searched Beth’s face, waiting for a punchline. “But... Beth. Isn’t this what you wanted? A residency program. That’s the next step for you, right?”

Beth gave a small, tired smile. “I know.”

“Then why—” Jamie stopped herself. “Why aren’t you going?”

Beth hesitated, glancing down at where their hands rested together. “Because it’s not what I want anymore,” she said finally, her voice softer now.

Jamie frowned, trying to understand. “But?—”

“For years, I thought it was my dream,” Beth interrupted gently. “That this was the next big step. That it was what I should do. But now, when I think about it?” She met Jamie’s gaze, searching. “It’s not. Not right now.”

Jamie stared at her in disbelief. This was a huge deal. A residency program at UCLA.

Beth tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, continuing.

“I want to focus on what’s in front of me for once.

I want to focus on Lily, on you, on us. I’ll always have art, Jamie.

That won’t change. But maybe the shape of the dream I thought I had is changing, and that feels like where my focus should be right now, not chasing things for the sake of chasing. ”

Jamie’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest as realization dawned on her. Beth was choosing this. Choosing her. She didn’t know what to say. So, she took Beth’s hand, running her thumb lightly over the ridge of her knuckles.

“Okay,” she murmured.

Beth tilted her head. “Yeah?”

Jamie nodded, her throat tight. “Yeah.”

A nurse stepped into the doorway with a clipboard.

“Jamie Lyons?”

She sucked her breath, trying to access her own courage as Beth rubbed her arm reassuringly

“You’ve got this,” she said softly, pressing her lips to Jamie’s cheek.

Jamie clenched her jaw, nodded, and stood.

This time, she didn’t do it alone.

Beth was right beside her.

The drive home from the hospital was quiet, the morning’s heaviness still lingering between them.

Jamie’s fingers drummed against her thigh, her mind running in circles—reliving the sterile waiting room, the steady pressure of Beth’s hand in hers, the relief and fear tangled so tightly she couldn’t tell them apart.

But she had done it. She’d faced it. And now, as Beth pulled into the driveway, she knew there was still one more thing she needed to face.

So, instead of following Beth inside, she pulled out her phone and scrolled to Shannon’s name.

She hesitated for a second, before hitting call.

They agreed to meet after Shannon’s practice, so the following evening, Jamie found herself pulling up to an unfamiliar field.

“Who am I meeting again?” Lily asked.

“Her name is Wren. She just got signed to the Puget Sound Pride. Shannon thinks you two might have a few things in common.”

“Is it because we’re both young? Because that doesn’t immediately mean we have things in common,” Lily grumbled.

“I think it’s more that both of you are very talented athletes who just happen to be young. Haven’t you been saying for months you want more friends?”

“Yeah, gymnastics friends. You know, who I can, like, train with.” Lily rolled her eyes as they climbed out of the car.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, kid.”

That comment earned Jamie a glare eerily reminiscent of one she’d caught coming from Sarah a time or two.

“Shannon said Wren can be a little shy, so be nice, okay? You know—your usual delightful self.”

“I’m always nice,” Lily quipped, as they approached the field.

The evening air smelled like damp grass, and the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows as the mountains in the background left their silhouettes on the turf.

The players were finishing up their practice.

Laughter and shouted instructions echoed across the field, followed by the rhythmic thunk of cleats against soccer balls.

Jamie looked out across the field and spotted Shannon immediately. She was mid-sprint, cutting past a defender before sending a perfect pass downfield. Jamie waved briefly as Shannon jogged over to them.

“Hey!” she said, slightly out of breath. “I appreciate you coming all the way out here.”

“No problem.”

“You must be Lily.” Shannon turned to Lily. “I’m so excited to meet you finally.”

Lily straightened her shoulders and held her hand out to Shannon. “I’m equally excited to meet you! I’ve followed you since you played for the Philadelphia Freedom. My mom and I are huge soccer fans,” Lily explained.

“Is that Wren?” Jamie asked, nodding in the direction of a tall teen on the field.

The girl was all limbs, standing near the goalpost with her hands stuffed deep into the pockets of her hoodie and rocking slightly on her heels like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself.

Dark curls were pulled into a messy bun, a few loose strands sticking out in odd directions.

Shannon called her over, and when she noticed Jamie and Lily, she straightened, then immediately ducked her head like she was trying to make herself smaller.

“Wren, this is Lily,” Shannon said, motioning between them. “Lily, meet Wren.”

Wren hesitated for an awkwardly long beat before yanking one of her hands out of her pocket and thrusting it forward a little too fast, like she had to remind herself how introductions worked.

“Hi,” she said, her voice a touch too loud.

Then, realizing it, she cleared her throat and tried again, this time quieter.

“Hi. Uh, I think what you do is really cool. Gymnastics, I mean. I always wanted to do it, but, uh...” She gestured at her lanky frame, and her elbow almost smacked Shannon in the ribs “. . . turns out I’m not exactly built for it. ”

Lily, who barely came up to Wren’s shoulder, blinked at her, deadpan. “Clearly, that’s not a problem I have.”

Jamie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing as Shannon snorted beside her.

On the other hand, Wren was horrified for half a second. “Oh—oh my God, no, I wasn’t saying—I just meant—” She made a panicked gesture, flustered. “I-I’m really tall, you know? And gymnasts are short, typically.”

Lily tilted her head. “Yeah,” she said, unimpressed. “I noticed.”

For a moment, Wren stood there, looking like she was mentally cataloging every possible way to escape this conversation. Then, to Jamie’s surprise, Lily smirked.

“Come on,” she said, jerking her chin toward the field. “Show me what you got.”

Wren blinked, processing, her body deflating with relief.

“Oh. Yeah. Okay. Cool. I mean—yeah, let’s do it.

” She started to follow Lily, then abruptly turned back to Shannon and Jamie, giving them two awkward thumbs up, then pivoted so quickly to jog after Lily that she nearly tripped over her own feet.

“Jesus,” Shannon let out in a low snicker.

Jamie smirked. “I like her.”