I. Saturday

The colored lights on his phone reflect against the ceiling as it does its vibrating dance across the bedside table. He has to squint to read the screen through the sleep still caught in his eyes, but he checks anyway because if it’s Dan wanting a ride at one in the morning again he is not having any of it.

Karen.

“Hey.”

“Hey. I think we need to talk, can you come over?”

He wants to remind her of the time, but decides that maybe its best to leave that unsaid for now.

“Are you drunk?”

“Yeah, maybe. I guess.”

“Look, Karen, I know I didn’t call yesterday after work… I just thought I should give you some space. I wasn’t trying to--”

“Just come over, okay? I hate talking on the phone and I can’t drive right now and it’s too cold to walk.”

The floor is ice on his feet as he peels the blankets off. He doesn’t bother to change from his flannel pants, or even put on a shirt, just zips up his fleece jacket and shoves his sockless feet into a pair of sneakers.

She’s right about it being too cold to walk, but he does anyway.

He can see the sun peeking through the blinds as Karen drifts to sleep mid-sentence. He turns off the light beside him (not that it makes a difference now) and decides that it’s probably safe to close his eyes.

II. Sunday

Tonight she’s decided that they won’t be talking while lying in bed together, that they will sit at her kitchen table across from one another. And that there will be no alcohol (or sex) involved, period.

He feels a little like he's on a job interview. 

“You told me that you were glad I was here.”

“I am glad that you’re here. I-I don’t know what I meant when I said that, about Pam.”

She asks him to tell her exactly how big this “crush” was (is). She tells him that she needs to know, and he knows that she’s right.

He’s not sure why, but he lies anyway.

III. Monday

He meets her for a drink after work at Cooper’s and she tells him that she doesn’t think that she can do this. That she’s spent her entire day obsessing over a receptionist. Her hair, her eyes, her laugh, her smile. That she barely got anything work-related done at all.

He takes her hand and tells her that it’s nothing. She pulls hers away and tells him that she doesn’t believe him.

“Just come over to my place and we can talk about this. I’m not giving up on this yet, Karen.”

Later they lie on their backs, staring at his ceiling. He takes her hand again and this time she lets him.

IV. Tuesday

He brings meatball stroganoff ingredients to her door and nearly drops the box of spaghetti when she answers it crying, saying that she’s not sure she really believes him at all. That he’s not telling her everything, is he?

It’s nearly two in the morning when he finally admits to kissing her. To caring about a woman for over three years that only ever saw him as a friend.

And this time she is the one who is comforting him, asking him to tell her about it. Just letting him talk about the one thing he was never ever allowed to really talk about.

He tries not to use the word “love.”

By the end, the whole story sounds even more pathetic than he had originally thought and he tells her that maybe feelings like that, ones that you’ve held on to for so long, never really go away. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t move past them. With the right person.

V. Wednesday

He had prepared for this one all day, knowing it was inevitable. The night before she had been patient and understanding and just, listened. But tonight he owed it to her to come to some sort of decision.

“Just tell me, Jim. What do you want, really? From us, I mean.”

It’s been another four hour back-and-forth marathon of “what-if’s” and “maybes.” And maybe he doesn’t really know what he wants, but maybe he finally knows what he needs.

“I need to move on with my life. And, if it’s okay with you, this is where I’d like to start.”

That night she falls asleep in his arms and he feels like maybe he’s finally taking those first few steps towards that trip to Australia that he never actually went on. Like maybe the person he had always hoped to be and the person that he actually was could somehow, finally, overlap.

But, man, work would sure be hell in the morning.