Pam didn’t know what to do with herself for the rest of the day. She had no energy, no idea what time it was, no motivation to answer the phone or send faxes. So she sat, drinking cold tea, and steadfastly refusing to look up from her desk. If it hadn’t been for Toby, who stopped to say goodbye on his way out, Pam wouldn’t have known that it was after five o’clock already. A quick glance around the office told her that the only other people left were Jim and Karen, sitting silently at their desks, not looking at each other.

            She wasn’t ready to leave. Part of her thought Roy might be waiting in the parking lot, desperate to talk to her again. The longer she waited, the more likely it was that Darryl would talk him into going to grab a beer. So she opened a game of Free Cell and occasionally moved a card or two, willing the time to pass more quickly.

            Jim and Karen left—together—a few minutes later. She felt the tears start to fill her eyes before she could do anything about it, and since the office was empty now anyway, she decided to just let herself go ahead and cry.

            It had been stupid of her, completely ridiculous, to let herself think that today had changed anything. After all this time of trying to force things back to the way they used to be, Pam hadn’t been sure that she was ready for anything to change anyway. But today, when Jim had stood up for her and taken a punch for her and joked with her—she thought maybe, maybe, telling him how she felt had been the right thing to do after all.

            So, she thought, this is how it feels to tell someone you love them and watch them walk away.  She let herself sob, let herself remember how close she had come to staying with him when he kissed her that night, let herself wonder how much better her life could have been if she hadn’t tried to walk away.

            She wished she could hate him. She had wanted to hate him, so much, when he told her that he was in love with her. She had wanted to hate him for leaving Scranton. And she wanted to hate him now for throwing her feelings in his face. She hurt so much right now that she thought she deserved to hate him. But it hurt so much more to know that she never could.

            She finally took a deep breath and made her way to the bathroom to splash her face with water. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but she didn’t see how that could possibly matter at this point. She wasn’t going to see anyone tonight. She was going to get in her car and drive to her empty apartment.

            Maybe she should get a cat. She smiled at her sad reflection and resolved to consider the possibility. It might be better than living alone.

            She almost screamed when she walked out of the break room and saw someone standing in front of the reception desk. It took her a second to realize that it was Jim, and that he was holding her coat.

            “Hey,” he said, taking a few steps closer to her but stopping a safe distance away. “Can we talk?”

            She nodded, suddenly very aware of her red, puffy eyes. She took her coat from him and slipped it on as he led the way to the stairwell.

            By the time they made it to the roof, Pam had steeled herself for the conversation she was sure they were about to have. Jim was with Karen. Karen was nice, and pretty, and he deserved to be with someone like that. And he didn’t want to hurt Pam, of course not, but the timing was just bad—

            “Do you remember our first date?” she heard him ask. His voice was soft and unsure, and she knew he was thinking of an angry moment, a long time ago.

            “Do you think I could forget?” She sighed. “Any of it?”

            It was freezing, much colder than it had been this morning. Pam tucked her hands under her arms and breathed a long slow breath, enjoying the way that the cold turned her sigh into a cloud.

            “Karen and I are done,” he said.

            She almost said she was sorry, because she almost was, but it felt too much like a lie. So she just nodded.

            “I think she was tired of me,” he said. Pam shook her head.

            “No one gets tired of Jim Halpert,” she said.

            “Then she was tired of us.” He didn’t clarify which “us” he was talking about, and Pam didn’t ask him to. She just breathed out another sigh, another cloud. “I think I thought I was getting kind of tired of us, too.”

            Pam looked up at him, at his clenched jaw and wrinkled forehead. He was staring up at the sky as if he were looking for something. Feeling brave and cold and terrified and ready, Pam reached out and took his hand. She stood close to him, enjoying the way that he wrapped his fingers around hers, and she stared up at the stars.

            “What are we looking for?” she asked.

            “I don’t know,” Jim said. “Fireworks?”

            Pam nodded. That sounded about right.