You were a good girlfriend. No, you were an amazing girlfriend. You had your doubts, but ultimately he didn't seem like "the type". You wished you had listened to your mother five months ago. 'Dump him.' 'You deserve someone who treats you like the amazing woman you are.' 'You are better than that, Karen.' But you were stubborn and hard headed, refusing to listen to anyone including your mother and sister, both of which clearly just wanted the best for you. 'No! He's a good guy, okay? He would never do that to me.' What a joke.

He said "yes" that January afternoon in the conference room. You should have listened to your head. But no, Filippelli. You had to listen to your heart. You thought for sure that you could change him. You could make him fall out of love with her and maybe, just maybe, fall in love with you. You knew deep down that you deserved better than that. You knew that you shouldn't have to try and make someone love you. But you did.

You talked for hours on end. He told you that you'd start a life together. Just the two of you. Together. Together and alone. That, of course, was before she had to ruin everything that night on the beach. Just one more week. That was all you needed and she had to mess everything up. You couldn't blame her, though. Despite what he did to you, you'd be lying if you said Jim wasn't a good guy. You can't see how anyone could not fall for Jim. You just wish that you would have been the one that he chose to love back instead of her.

So, here you are. You're living in New York, serving as Regional Manager of the Utica Branch, and you are perfectly fine. You're not exactly happy, but you're not miserable either. You are just trying to get your life back in order. The way it was before Scranton and before him.

"Hi, sweetie. How are you holding up?"

How do you think? "Okay, I guess."

"That's good."

Silence.

"Did you need something? I'm kind of busy here."

"What I said before. I -- I guess I wasn't thinking about your position in all of this. I'm so sorry. I love you more than anything, Karen. I want you to know that. And it is completely your choice."

"I know that. But. . thanks. I appreciate your support, mom."

"And if you need anything, I am always here."

For the first time in a long time, you feel the corners of your mouth going up. That is until you are reminded of the conversation that is currently taking place

"Mom? I, uh. . I'm keeping it." Your voice cracks. "I'm keeping the baby."

"You're doing this for you, right? You're not doing this for anybody else?"

"No. I don't want this to be about me, you know? This is my child. I could never do that. It's not fair. It wouldn't be fair. Besides, this could be good for me."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"No."

"Karen--" There she goes again.

"What happened to 'it's your life'?"

"Please, just think about it. Do you really want your child growing up without a father?"

"I'll think about it, okay?"

"That's all I ask."

"Goodnight, mom."

"Goodnight, Karen."

You hang up the phone with every intention of getting a long, hot bubble bath and forgetting about everything. The baby, Jim, Pam, and the nagging feeling of guilt in the pit of your stomach that you can't quite manage to get rid of. But before you know it, you're curled up on your bed with the phone cradled against your ear waiting for him to answer so you can tell him everything. The phone begins to ring and you resist the urge to press 'End'. One, two, three. .

"Hello?" Said a familiar voice. But, no. That familiar voice definitely did not belong to Jim Halpert. It was Pam's. Pam Beesly, aswering his phone. But, really, why should you be suprised?

You are happy. You are finally happy. It took you five years to get here, but you are here now and that is all that matters to you at this point. You have made a lot of mistakes in the past year and as much as you regret what happened -- as much as you regret wasting time wishing that things were different instead of actually doing something about it -- you are kind of glad it happened. As much as it may have hurt all of you, you are glad you are able to do this with Pam and you are able to do it right.


Knock, knock.


And there she is.


"Hi."


"Hey." She grins. Her hair is in a messy bun, she's wearing an oversized t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants and you're pretty sure she has never looked more beautiful. She is carrying a box of pizza in one hand and a case of beer in the other. You stand there, leaning on the door frame. You stare for a second longer than you probably should have. "So, are you going to let me in?"


"It depends. Did you bring the beer?"


She holds up the case.


"Hmm," You step aside, letting her in. "I guess."


She stands up on her tip-toes and gives you a quick peck on the lips. "You ready to paint?


You groan. "How about we just. ." You lean down and kiss her once more. Only, this time it is different. It is slow and gentle, yet passionate. Her hands immediately find their way to your hair and you wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her closer to you.


She pulls away. "Oh, no. No, no, no."


You pout. "What?"


"If we don't stop now, we'll never get this done."


"No, you're right--"


"Thank you."


"You're right, you're right. You are so right--" You fall back on to the couch, taking her down with you. Your mouth is on her neck and she's leaning into you, giggling, her arm around your neck and her hand on your chest.


"Jim," She says breathlessly. "Jim, seriously. We have to do this."


"Okay."


About three hours, six beers and one box of pizza later, you are lying on your couch with a 'Friends' re-run playing on the TV. Neither of you are paying much attention, you are both just happy to be there with eachother.


You yawn and she begins to sit up, collecting the empty beer cans and dirty plates off of the table.


You frown. "I can do that, Pam."


"I want to, Jim. It's been a long day. I'll just clean up and get going. It's getting late."


"Stay?" But it's not really a question.


Her smile widens and you can't help but smile back. "Um, yeah, okay. I'd like that."


"Do you mind if I get a shower, though? I'm a mess."


"No, yeah, go right ahead. The towels are in the closet and--"


She cuts you off with a kiss. "I know."


You watch her leave and you are left sitting there, grinning like an idiot. She has always manages to do that to you. She always has and she always will. That is just one of the things you love about her. She just makes you happy, plain and simple.


After you met Karen, you were sure that you were over her. Or, atleast you were sure that you could get over her. That is, until you saw her again. Nothing had changed. She was still Pam, and you were still Jim. You did everything you could to keep your distance but it was useless. Not even two months ago you were sitting in this very spot, trying to convince yourself that you were over her. You don't know why you were trying to hard to fight it. You told yourself that it was because you didn't want to hurt Karen, but deep down you knew it was for your own selfish reasons -- you were afraid of her rejecting you again. You used Karen. You should have broken it off the first time she told you she loved you. Hell, you should have broken it off with her when she suggested moving to Scranton for you. You have made a lot of mistakes in the past year, but not being honest with Karen from the start was definitely the biggest. It could have easily saved a lot of pain and heartache for everyone involved.


"Jim! Your phone is ringing."


"Answer it?"


You make your way up the stairs just in time to see Pam answer the phone.


"Hello?"


Pause.


Her face falls.


"Um, yeah. Hold on. Jim. . Karen is on the phone."


You pause for a second, trying to think of all of the things she could possibly want from you. Maybe she left something at your apartment? Maybe it's work-related? Maybe she wants to tell you how much of an asshole you are?


"Hey, Karen."


"Look, Jim. I, uh, I'm not trying to 'get you back' or anything. I just. .there is something that I need to talk to you about. Is there anyway that you could, I don't know, meet me for coffee or something? I can meet you half way."