Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Office or it's characters.

The Last Temptation of Jim Halpert

He knew there would be guilt. He wasn't made of stone, after all. But he didn't ever expect it to be this bad. Why couldn't this have been like Katy. That had been so easy. He had felt nothing. Well, nothing about her at least. As she had cried silently in the passenger seat of his car, refusing to even look at him, he alternately wallowed in self-pity and anger. Anger at Roy, at Pam, at himself. As he pulled up to her apartment, and the pretty redhead exited his car and exited his life, he actually smiled a bit when she slammed his car door with a violence that so sharply contrasted his numb indifference. He rarely ever thought about her after that, and when he did, he usually just closed his eyes and spent a minute or so remembering what she looked like without her clothes on. He longed for that detached feeling as he looked over at Karen.

Slowly, the nebulous, scattered guilt in his head began to congeal into very real emotion. It wasn't that she looked sad. She didn't look happy, but the expression on her face was more subtle. If anything she looked tired, weary, worn out. And alone. She looked so damn alone. Apart from Stanley, who had offered her his standard slow, bored sounding one word greeting when she had arrived. "Morning." As usual, he hadn't even bothered to look up. He may or may not have noticed Karen's response came a little slower and a little quieter than usual, and certainly couldn't have seen that it came accompanied with a forced smile instead of a genuine one. "Morning Stanley." Those were the only words she had spoken all day. None of her other office mates had even acknowledged her presence. Everyone knew too much. Nobody wanted to face the awkwardness.

He knew it would be a painful conversation, but he knew he had to have it. He could be strong. He was holding all the cards, after all. He had dumped her... and most of all he had Pam waiting for him. He waited until she was out of sight before gathering the strength to follow. By the time he made it into the annex and made the left turn toward the break room, she was already sitting. She was all the way in the back corner and had her back to the door. Jim approached silently, watching her shoulders rise and fall slightly under her brown hair. He had gotten to within about ten feet when her breathing appeared to stop. She jerked almost imperceptibly and her shoulder blades contracted slightly.

Jim braced himself. She didn't even turn around. When her voice did register it was as he expected filled not with anger but fatigue.

"What do you want."

What he didn't want was to stand there talking to the back of her head, so he pulled out the chair to her immediate right and gently set himself down. He was facing the side of her head now. She showed no inclination of turning to meet his gaze, but just as he started to speak, she swiveled her head and stared right at him. Her expression was more stoic than anything, but it wasn't a friendly gaze by any means. By keeping her shoulders facing straight ahead, Karen had subconsciously positioned her tiny frame as basic human instinct dictated. Ignoring for a moment all the pretense of modern life and convention, Jim was staring at nothing more than a 110 pound mammal trying to protect itself from getting hurt. Karen ended Jim's awkward pause by reminding him she was a bit more than that... she shot him a subtle glare that at once told him she was anything but a scared monkey, and also to hurry the fuck up and say what he had to say.

"Karen look... I just want to say again that I'm sorry... about the phone call, about everything. It was so many things. I felt trapped... like New York was an ultimatum..."

She looked like a statue. Jim stopped repeating his justifications. He remembered he was here to make some peace, not re-justify his choices. Jim fought the instinct to place his arm on her back to comfort her as he continued.

"You're a great woman and I really don't want things to be awkward..."

Apparently he hit a key word. She interrupted him abruptly. And now she finally did open her shoulders toward him, although only to allow her to offer up a downward hand gesture, a "shut up" gesture, as she spoke.

"Awkward, Jim? I don't want it to be awkward either. So let me ask you a question."

Crap. There was going to be no good way out of this. Karen continued, although she became less able to hide her sarcastic tone.

"Could you maybe go back to last week and tell your future girlfriend that maybe it's not the best idea to drag all this personal baggage out in front of the people that your soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend still has to work with every day?"

When she saw that he was too frozen to answer her somewhat rhetorical question, Karen seemed more than happy to keep talking.

"And that wasn't my ultimatum, Jim. It was hers. She issued it the moment she made sure that none of my co-workers could ever take me seriously again. This job may not mean shit to you, Jim, but it means something to me. And we both know I can't stay here now. She even sought me out later to tell me she was proud that she did it."

"What?" It was all Jim could initially manage. He hated where the conversation had headed. He hadn't expected her to have anything reasonable to say. Back on the beach, he had been so wrapped up thinking about Pam that it had never occurred to him just how bad a place the whole thing had put Karen. Maybe New York hadn't been about changing him. Maybe she just wanted take him and run somewhere safe. And Pam. He didn't have it in him to attribute her a single mean bone in her whole body, but he hated seeing how completely she had managed to isolate this woman who he was supposed to have protected.

A dark thought occurred to Jim. He'd been through management training. He knew about "hostile work environment" and all that bullshit. But it wasn't really bullshit this time around. Karen did get screwed pretty badly. If she wanted to raise hell, she could have Pam fired in a heartbeat. A manager like Michael might be able to hide behind Dunder Mifflin's corporate lawyers, but not a receptionist. Karen didn't seem vindictive, though. Just tired and disappointed.

Jim tried a new tactic.

"Look, Karen, you're a wonderful person. You deserve more than I can offer you..."

She shook her head in resignation as she interrupted him again.

"You just don't get it, do you Jim. It's not a hostage negotiation. It's actually really simple. I thought you were starting to love me back..."

She stopped suddenly and turned her head away a bit. She had started her last sentence with the intention of ending it with a hugely sarcastic "Congratulations, Halpert, you proved me wrong," but apparently the words had hurt her a bit as they came out, and stopped her cold mid-sentence. She looked vulnerable for the first time since he sat down. And alone.

And he hurt. He hurt for the relief he had felt when he had dumped her. He hurt for the sheer joy that had overtaken him the night when, less than 24 hours after having her for the last time, he had taken Pam. She thought I was starting to love her back... Karen had never told Jim she loved him, although he had known she did. She had never dared. Worried, no doubt, about the pain that would follow if he didn't answer likewise. Often, during tender moments, he had noticed her staring intensely into his eyes, practically begging him to tell her he loved her. But he never had. And now he was glad he never did. After the events of the last week, he would have been exposed as the mother of all hypocrites.

Worst of all, though, he hated himself. He hated that he'd been so oblivious to the pain he had slowly inflicted on her with every day he'd allowed her to get closer to him. He hated that he could see no wrong in Pam as she had publicly trampled all over Karen's fragile little world. But it was worse than that. Maybe it was hearing her side. Maybe it was the fact that he could never have her again, that she was sitting so close but he dare not reach and offer her an embrace that she would have so welcomed just one short week ago. Whatever it was, he hated himself for finally loving her just as she was.

The understanding smiles and friendly make-up hug that Jim had pictured when he followed her into the break room were a distant memory. Karen just sat there silently until he left. He felt gut-punched as he made his way back through the kitchen to his desk. Pam smiled at him and for the first time in God knows how long it didn't even make him flutter a bit. He needed answers. He needed to be alone. He needed to puke. He wanted his happy ending back. He may still get it, but there was a lot more crap for him to sort through than he ever would have thought. He forced himself to smile at Pam, and then hit the door even before Michael could respond.

"Michael, I'm taking a sick day."

By the time Jim had made it out the door, he had lost the ability to regulate the images were bouncing around in his head... Painful little flashes that kept popping into his mind. It was as if he was seeing them for the first time, because the first time he had seen them, he had committed them to memory without really taking them in.

God Dammit Karen. Get out of my fuckin' head already.

But she wouldn't. The images didn't stop. Karen looking up at him for the first time as he stepped to his new desk... standing and extending her hand... her pale green eyes framed elegantly by her tan, freckled face. Karen flashing him a tight lipped smile as she made his invisible grenade trigger a small paper clip explosion. Karen on the doorstep of her room at the Days Inn... standing on her tiptoes and looking up at him as he leaned down and kissed her for the first time. And most hauntingly perhaps, Karen on her back in the dim light of his apartment, her hair splashed easily behind her, closing her eyes and exhaling audibly, passionately, at the very moment when he pushed inside her for the first time. And, of course, Karen looking right through him in the break room, her eyes filled with fatigue, sadness, disappointment...

" Augh!" This time Jim let out an audible protest. He was in the elevator now. He banged the back of his head against the hollow, somewhat forgiving sheet metal wall panel, but to no avail. It wasn't love. It couldn't be love. Guilt. It had to be guilt. She was a strong woman, and that strength emboldened her to take a chance on him that few women would take. Risks that an intelligent, pretty creature like Karen didn't need to take.

Why couldn't you have let me go, Karen. I never asked you to love me, dammit!

In a court of law, Jim's thoughts would hold up. He had never asked Karen to love him. But the argument he was making to himself wasn't standing up to the scrutiny of his mind, which was now inexplicably forcing him to be accountable to himself. It was the guilt, most likely. Or he was evolving. Whatever it was, Jim wanted his protective veil of ignorance back. He had asked her for her love in many ways. And he knew it. Jim again tried to delude himself, to force the thoughts out of his head, but his thoughts were futile. He tried thinking of Pam but that only made it worse. He lost control as he reflected on all that he had done, and the honesty with which he was examining himself actually physically hurt him... He had made an art out of offering Karen just enough reason to stay with him. Just enough affection and reassurance to keep her committed to him. It had almost been like a game to him and he had played it well.

The one time the specter of honesty had reared its head he had spent five full nights telling his shaken, emotionally battered girlfriend everything short of "I love you" to get her to come back to him. He may have known he was making promises that his heart wasn't capable of keeping, but he had only been thinking of himself at the time. He needed her. He needed to use her. She was his rebound, his human shield, his post-Pam rehab, his self-esteem builder. All rolled into one small, convenient, pretty package. She was all of this but she was never really his girlfriend. He never loved her. Not the way he let her love him. Not the way he had in so many subtle ways asked her to love him.

Drop it, dammit! Forget it... Just forget it. Forget her. Forget everything. Why the hell does this hurt so much!

Jim felt trapped in the elevator... trapped in his own skin. His forehead felt like it was burning from the inside. His brow was damp with perspiration. He could feel his veins throbbing in his temples. His stomach was one big, angry knot. He knew it was impossible, but he wanted nothing more than to be able to slip back in time two weeks. Before the beach. Before Pam. Before he failed as a man in the worst way. The worst way. He had always thought of himself as a dedicated, chivalrous man. A kind man. A good man. And all justifications aside, he had fought to win Karen's trust. And in return she had given herself to him so completely, and he had readily accepted her offerings. He had he failed miserably as a boyfriend and as a man. He had let her suffer in the worst way... he had let her endure a very humiliating public attack from a third party, and he had done nothing to stop it. He had offered her no comfort. In fact, before long his actions served only to pile it on further... effectively teaming with Pam to kick her when she was at her most vulnerable.

CLANG! Jim's head hit the elevator wall again as the doors opened into the lobby. This has to be guilt. Please let this be guilt I'm feeling. Because guilt eventually fades, right? And please just make it stop.

If he could just go back in time and live those moments over again. He wasn't sure what he would do the second time, but it would be something, anything... anything to keep him from ending up like this. He may have interrupted Pam as soon as her monologue veered into their personal baggage. Or at the very least, in the immediate aftermath, offered Karen some reassurance or comfort or some sort of show of support to mitigate her public humiliation. Anything but leave her there to face the penetrating, judgmental stares of the co-workers who would never again see her for anything more than she was in that moment. Abandoned. Alone. The loser.

Surely he would still have found a way to Pam eventually. Definitely. Probably? He was still convinced he could never love anyone the way he loved her. But after the initial night of bliss, Jim had been losing his ability to see her with the tunnel vision that had allowed him to enjoy his happiness, to safely think only of the two of them. Seeing Karen again had finished the process, and reality was treating him more harshly than he had ever imagined. It all was starting to feel so damned tainted. To him, Pam was the kindest thing in the world, but it was gnawing at him that he had seen no thoughtlessness or cruelty in her actions, or his own, until days later when the sheer depth of Karen's suffering had been revealed to him. In fact he had indulged himself, and rewarded Pam. He had left Karen, after all, and found his way into Pam's bed that very night. The thoughts grew too painful again.

FUCKING HELL JUST STOP! Calm down. Stay calm. Just stay calm. The feeling has to stop. The feeling will stop. At least he told himself it would. He felt like fainting. He made it to his car and managed to drive a few blocks away, until he was out of sight. He parked on the side of the road beside a vacant lot and turned off the engine before settling deeply into the seat.

He knew. The feeling wasn't going to stop until he made it stop. He was a man. A man owns up to his mistakes. A man takes responsibility for his actions. A man makes things right, and does the right thing.

I can't believe I'm doing this, but I have to. I need to. I want to? I will.

It took him about half an hour to summon the strength. His palms were soaked with sweat. Jim pulled out his cell phone. He punched in a single number on speed dial. The voice came through.

"Hey."

Jim cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Please come meet me. I really need to talk."

She did not come meet him. It wasn't feasible. This was a work day after all.

She did, though, duck into a quiet corner of the office and hear him out. At first he scared her a bit. He spoke with a frantic, almost panicky pace. He jumbled his words. He would have sounded lost, confused, but there was a determination in his words that she hadn't heard from him since, well since never.

She waited to speak until he finally went silent.

"Look, Jim, I know you think you're about to make a huge mistake... I'm sure it feels that way. But if you called me hoping I'd talk you out of it, it's not going to happen. I'm so proud of you. Your father will be too when I tell him. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all. I love you, Jim."

********************

So much for that. Strong words of caution from his mother would have probably been the only thing that could have allowed him to turn back with a clear conscience. His mother, as he suspected she would, had welcomed his plan. For a man who had over the last twenty years of his life found the strength to make exactly one truly bold action, this was scary as all hell.

Pretend you're a good man, act like a good man and just keep pretending, and before you know it, you'll be a good man...

Jim couldn't help but laugh at the latest words running through his cluttered head. They had been spoken by his television about a month ago at around 2AM, when he and Karen, both more than a little drunk, had flipped through the channels and stopped on a cable reality show about Hawaii's most colorful bail-bondsman/bounty-hunter. Dog. Dog Chapman-- the convict turned leather-clad, mullet-wearing, post- apocalyptic epitome of modern day redemption. Jim and Karen had been unable to go more than thirty seconds between fits of ironic laughter as they watched Dog and his crew hunt down two-bit criminals, and better yet, try to bring them to Jesus during the car ride to the police-station. It was during one such post-arrest lecture that Dog had spoken those words to some small time crack dealer. Jim and Karen had laughed. Now it suddenly wasn't so funny to Jim.

Jim fetched a pen and notepad from his glove compartment. Nearing 30 years old, Jim was among the last generation of American schoolchildren who learned cursive writing before he learned to type. He never used it anymore, but he broke it out as he purposefully scrawled out a note.

Dear Karen,

I am writing this now because I have no idea what the future holds for us and there are some things that I want to tell you regardless of where you and I end up. Please believe me that I never intended to hurt you the way I did. I was unfair and misleading and I can say nothing to defend my actions. It is well within your rights to never forgive me. The fact is I know I will have a very difficult time forgiving myself. But know this: I will not let this consume me. I will work to redeem myself-- If not in your eyes then in the eyes of everyone I know from this day onward. I swear to you I will be a better man for having wronged you. I swear your pain will not be meaningless.

Love Always, Jim

That would do. Karen deserved to read those words. Her capacity to forgive would surely be tested in the hours and days to come. In the event that she chose to turn away from Jim completely, she may someday appreciate what he had written.

And the time was upon him. It was nearly 3PM by now. Jim had been sitting in his car for hours. There were several difficult conversations he still had to have. Of these, one could not wait. The most important, most difficult one.

****************

"Pam. Can you duck out of the office, I'll pick you up... I'm OK, but I really need to talk to you... OK see you soon."

He could hear the worry in her voice. He had no doubt left an impression this morning with his weird behavior. In the past he would have spent the short drive over to pick her up rehearsing what he was going to say during their impending talk, but this time he simply relaxed and cleared his mind. Whatever needed to happen would happen.

He pulled up, and she approached his car and opened the passenger door before he had even stopped. She purposefully ducked inside and looked intently at him as she buckled her seat belt. Jim looked back at her as he turned out of the parking lot. He didn't know where to go, so he just drove. Pam spoke first.

"Jim, what's wrong? Is everything OK?"

Tread carefully, but be nothing but honest.

"I knew she loved me, Pam. I just wouldn't admit it. And then I treated her like she was nothing and I didn't even have a second thought about it."

Pam seemed a little miffed. She seemed to be answering reactively. This was definitely an awkward subject considering tumult of the past week.

"It'll be all right, Jim. I know you wouldn't have..."

Despite his new dedication to honesty, Jim was somewhat happy that his steering duties kept him from making anything but sporadic eye contact as he continued speaking.

"Did you see her today? Nobody will even talk to her because they're too embarrassed after seeing what they saw. I'm not proud..."

She cut him off. Her voice was loud, defensive.

"Of course I saw it Jim, and it does bother me and I totally want to go tell her I'm sorry for everything but I know there's no way she'd believe me. Are looking for a way to back out of this?"

Just tell her everything. Let her decide.

"It's not like that, Pam, but please just let me finish. You know I love you and I've loved you for years. When I started here I didn't care about anything at all. The job was boring as all hell, I wasn't passionate about anything. There was nothing. I cared about nothing..."

She was leaning across the seat now, her hand on his thigh, her face heavy with concern as she hung on his words.

"But then I met you, and then I started caring about one thing. Just one thing, and nothing else. For all those years all I cared about was you and that was enough for me. Even though you were with Roy, you were all I wanted, all I needed. But all those years of caring about nothing but you made me so numb and so weak..."

She opened her mouth to speak but her cut her off, raising his voice as he continued to keep his thoughts flowing.

"So weak that after all of this, after six months with Karen, when push came to shove, I treated her like she was trash and I felt nothing doing it, because at the end of the day you were still the only thing I really cared about..."

Watch her now. See how she takes your next words...

"And you have to believe me, you're everything I ever wanted, but the line between caring about nothing at all and caring about nothing but you is one I can't tiptoe around any more. I need more, Pam... I need to feel some of that middle ground between nothing and madly in love . I need to feel alive, and believe me, I don't want to lose you, but there's something I have to do..."

Her voice was softer than he expected. "What Jim... What do you have to do?"

"First I have to do right by Karen, if that's even possible. I don't know what that will take but I have to do what I can. You and I need to slow down a bit, give things a little time to settle. It's awkward and it's complicated but its my fault and I have to deal with it. But this isn't really about Karen. It's about me... I'm leaving Dunder Mifflin. That job makes me so callous and so bored that I become capable of doing things... things I have a hard time living down. I didn't used to be this way, Pam. I want to feel passion. I want to have opinions. I want to be strong, to be a man. And I want to feel like I'm doing something with my life other than living one big soap opera."

Pam started asking the obvious question but Jim was ready for her.

"Scranton if possible, but most likely Philly. Not too far. A year or two to finish my degree and then maybe grad school for a teaching credential. Some volunteer work on the side... maybe coach a little basketball."

He didn't know what she'd say, but he was surprised.

"I'm proud of you, Jim. Please just remember to save a little time for madly-in-love with me." In his peripheral vision, he could feel her beaming as she spoke. "Besides, what I want isn't behind that stupid desk... it's sitting right here. You could move to Detroit for all I care and I'd find a way to get there."

"Detroit?"

"Yeah, Detroit."

Wow. Detroit. Action was needed that couldn't safely transpire in a moving vehicle. Time to pull over.

It was Thursday morning in Scranton, Pennsylvania, and Jim Halpert, future teacher, humanitarian, visionary found himself planted firmly in the present. Like most dreamers, practical considerations had overridden the idyllic purity of his vision. Although he liked to think he had been so very close to handing in his resignation to Michael on Tuesday morning, the truth was he knew caution and practicality would keep him at Dunder Mifflin for the foreseeable future. As a result of years of happily living in the moment, he had very little money saved. It was almost June, and the deadline to apply for the upcoming autumn semester had passed for most colleges. It would have to wait, and in the meantime he needed to shore up his finances. Spring quarter... Autumn '08 at the very latest.

Karen hadn't spoken a word to him since their Monday conversation in the break room. He glanced over at her often, and felt guilty that he missed the smiling glances that she used to throw his way so frequently. She sat expressionlessly and concentrated on her work, as she had done the two days previously. She got up only for quick bathroom breaks, left the office for lunch, and spoke hardly a word to anyone but her customers on the phone. Jim had arrived early Tuesday morning and left an envelope with his note on Karen's keyboard. He had watched her pick it up and study the single word scrawled on the outside... Karen. She had expressionlessly looked over at him with her tired eyes. They had stared at each other for a few long seconds, until Jim's will failed him and he looked away. Karen put the letter in her purse and pulled up her client list for the day.

Pam couldn't escape the tension either. Although she was dutifully respecting Jim's request that they slow down while he reconciled his guilt, Jim could tell that the awkward, artificial distance he was forcing himself to impose upon her in the office was taking its toll on her. She had been trying to absorb some of Jim's guilt by claiming it for herself. If she had only called him after she called her wedding off... been more honest with him earlier... waited until they were alone before making her big confession... Whatever her argument, Jim wasn't buying it. Pam hadn't forced him to treat Karen like he did. This was his fight. Pam was just being thoughtful and trying to protect him. He needed to do whatever it took to get himself back to where he could love her like she deserved to be loved.

It was Thursday morning, and he still hadn't been able to to isolate Karen for a conversation. He still hadn't the foggiest idea of what he'd say, but he knew it had to be done. The Jim that he was trying so hard to bury would have turned away and cast her unceremoniously out of his thoughts, so he had to try, really try... to do right by her, to make things right. Jim had no illusions about his motivation, either. He needed this conversation more than she did, and she seemed determined to ignore him. And then Karen dropped him a lifeline. He was pouring himself a coffee when he felt a gentle tug at his sleeve. He turned and she pulled her hand away. In stark contrast to the way she used to nestle up close to him at this very counter as they got their coffee together (albeit in a professional, non-touching way), she was standing a full arm's length away. Her tone was formal and stoic.

"Hey, Jim... before we left for the New York, I took my silver band off and left it in your nightstand drawer. That was my grandmother's so I'd appreciate it if you could bring it back tomorrow."

"Sure, Karen... Hey..."

But she was gone, having seized upon his hesitation to slip out of the kitchen and back towards her desk. Perhaps fearful of subjecting her to anything even resembling public drama, Jim decided to let her go. There would be a better time and place. The full, life-changing magnitude of his decision would not become apparent to him until much later.


***************************

There was no other way to do this. She was cold-shouldering him at the time he needed her most. He didn't want to call her... not after their last phone call. He couldn't pull her aside at work. It was a little after 10PM when Jim stood on Karen's doorstep and summoned the courage to knock. After an short but seemingly interminable wait, the porch light clicked on and he could feel her eye on him through the peephole. The door opened, but it didn't welcome him inside. Instead it stopped after about a foot, and Karen's head and shoulder appeared and clogged the narrow opening. She was wearing a dark nightshirt and her hair was wet. With no real expression at all, she thrust out her upturned palm and waited until Jim placed her ring in it.

She looked for the briefest of moments like she was going to retreat and slam the door in his face, leaving him standing there like an idiot, but apparently something got the best of her. Convention? Politeness? Residual feelings? Her voice sounded soft. Even a little warm. Everyone bleeds off anger at a different rate. Perhaps four days was enough for Karen?

"Thanks, Jim."

She waited awkwardly, but Jim seized upon her moment of softness.

"Can I come in and talk to you for a bit... please?"

She opened the door and he squeezed past her. He waited for her as she latched the door. Jim made for the sofa and gently sat down. Karen eased into the opposite end, and leaned back into the cushions. He turned to face her, while she eyed him warily. Although her nightshirt hung down to her upper thighs, Jim was heartened a bit by the fact that she had opened the door without feeling the need to throw some pants on. At the very least, he was still something more than a stranger to her. Karen noticed where he was looking and cringed a bit, stretching her shirt down a few inches and covering her thighs with a pillow. Jim quickly moved his eyes back from her thighs to her face, and finally came up with something to say.

"Did you read my letter?" He remembered why in the past he had avoided all serious relationship conversations except one. He just wasn't very eloquent when the emotional stakes were high. Karen exhaled and seemed to slink further into her couch cushions.

"Jim, I'm sure you felt good writing it, but why'd you even bother giving it to me? The whole point of it was to convince yourself that you're not a total prick. It's all about you, Jim. You've made that pretty clear to me, haven't you?"

He hated how she put it to him as a question. It wasn't a question at all. Her words were bitter, but her tone was more of detached disappointment. When Jim didn't answer, Karen continued.

"So if you're looking for a happy make-up session so you can feel better about yourself, you're at the wrong place. I'm the one who gambled and lost here, so my broken heart comes before your guilty conscience."

The room went silent and Jim felt painfully claustrophobic. There was something about her tone, her words, her posture, that was so very Karen. While her words were technically telling him to go to hell, her matter-of-fact allusion to her own broken heart captivated Jim. She was so comfortable in her own skin that she didn't think twice about the humiliation of admitting to him she had loved him after he had dumped her so abruptly. Jim wished he had this type of strength. Pam's new found assertiveness, of which Jim was so very proud, was long overdue and hugely refreshing. It involved mostly speaking her mind and making it clear to everyone that she wasn't some weak doormat. Karen, in contrast, wasn't afraid to open up and let him see her at her weakest. That took serious guts. Jim knew she was pretty tough, but he'd never really let himself admire that until now, when across the four foot chasm that separated them, she exuded a quiet dignity that refused to crumble despite having been trampled.

Her only weakness had been him. He hadn't ever really deserved her. It was at the same time flattering and maddening. He felt a searing, tangible pain in his gut as he realized that everything he had ever hoped for Pam to become was staring at him now in very real form through a weary set of pale green eyes. If he'd had half the guts she did, he might be living out an unblemished happily-ever-after with Pam right now, with no idea one Ms. Karen Filippelli even existed.

You can't lose somebody's love overnight. She must still love him, although she was undoubtedly rectifying that with each passing day. Respect, though, is a completely different beast. Karen felt none for him, and it hurt. The brave words in his letter were supposed to be the vanguard, the very epitome of the new Jim, and those words carried absolutely no credibility with the one person he really wanted to convince. The easy thing to do would have been to get up and leave. Move past her, but at the same time remember her and learn from her. The easy thing had also been to keep her around as a counterweight to offset his unresolved feelings for Pam. Jim's days of doing the easy thing, though, were ending.

"Karen listen... Before I came to Stamford I dated this girl. She was kind, sweet, beyond pretty. I should have been lucky to have her but I dumped her the night Pam and Roy set their wedding date. I was such an ass and I never gave it a second thought."

Karen looked amused.

"The cheerleader?"

"Yeah. The cheerleader. Anyway, what I did to her didn't feel bad at all, because I didn't love her. But after I left you I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I can't sleep. Sometimes I feel like I can't even breathe."

She didn't look like she was about to whip out the Kleenex for him, but Jim continued.

"I know it's guilt. I did a terrible thing and I feel terrible, but Karen, there's more to it than that. I didn't realize how much I really cared about you until I hurt you so badly, or how much I respect you for that matter. After so many years I was so convinced Pam was everything I ever wanted that I didn't give you any of what you deserved."

She looked unamused. Jim realized his words were strangely parallel to his words during their five night talk-a-thon, although admittedly a bit stronger. Hedged assertions, platitudes, and tempered statements... He would be unimpressed, too, so he cut through the bullshit and got to the point.

"Karen... I made a giant mistake. You're the one I'm in love with. I was just too stupid to see it until now."

Damn. Honesty can be rewarding but also so damn awkward. His heart was racing and beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead. He knew what was coming so he tried to preempt it.

"And I know I have no right to do this to you and you have no reason to believe me, but please just give me one chance to make it right, and I'll do whatever it takes."

She interrupted him. Loudly this time. She pivoted her body in the sofa to square up to him as she yelled.

"Is this some sort of sick game to you? Do you like seeing how hard you can kick me and still get me back? Fuck you, Halpert."

Jim was yelling too now.

"Whatever it takes, Karen. I'll leave with you. I'll leave Scranton... everything."

"I don't trust you anymore."

"And you shouldn't, but I swear to you I'll earn it back. I'll never take you for granted again"

She looked like she was hurting. Jim could see the pain in her face. For a woman as strong as Karen, this should have been an easy "go-to-Hell" for her. There were plenty of guys out there who hadn't already spent six months treating her like a disposable accessory. But thank God this particular strong woman had for one reason or another developed a sweet spot for his weak, sorry self. She seemed to be breaking. Her shoulders slumped a bit.

"I promise you nothing, Halpert. Nothing at all. You know exactly what needs to be done so you can start by doing it. You know I'm not staying here. Not Dunder Mifflin, either. Not after they promoted some smarmy, incompetent douchebag two levels over me. New York... Boston maybe. You better think hard about what you're signing up for, and you better clear your heavy baggage right now. You're either on board or not this time. There's no more in between ground."

No more middle ground. No more hedging. It was time to man up, and hope to God it stuck this time.

"No middle ground, Karen. I'm with you."

He moved to hug her but she recoiled.

"You've got a lot of shit to do, Halpert. If you want to stay over you get the couch and we can have breakfast together."

Karen got up and headed for her bedroom. He told her he loved her again, and she turned to him and smiled for the first time.

"I'm glad you came over, Jim. Really glad."

Jim was glad too, although he had a feeling the next 24 hours weren't going to be so hot. The life awaiting him after that... well that was a different story. A new city, a new career, and a new awareness of a dormant, neglected love. He knew it would take time, but he'd win her back completely. And Pam, as much as he really did love her, deserved more than he could give her from inside the painful cocoon of guilt that was only now lifting.