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Pam curled up on her couch under her warmest blanket and hugged her knees like a child. Wiping back a few lingering tears, she thought back on the events of the evening. A happy hour with the office sounded like so much fun. She felt so excited to be able to be a part of the gang without having to ask permission.
She was very proud of herself that Roy actually came to Poor Richards just because she asked him to. For once, it seemed like he really wanted to be there with her, instead of acting like he was just killing time until he could hang out with his buddies. Pam had started to believe that maybe he could be the man she was looking for. It had been such a long time since they flirted together, since he made her giggle with excitement. But nevertheless there he was, Roy, acting just like, well, Jim. Maybe there was hope after all. Maybe they could actually give their relationship another try. Maybe it could work.
It all went so wrong, so fast. She had been feeling guilty for months because she left him so suddenly and she never truly told him what caused the break-up. She had explained she didn’t want to get married, that she wanted new things, that she didn’t think that she wanted to stay with him anymore. He asked her time and again, what changed? She could never bring herself to tell him. She hated disappointing people, hating the feeling that she could cause someone else pain. There was no way she could tell him that Jim had shown her that there was more to love than what they had together. He showed her everything with a million thoughtful gestures and a single amazing kiss.
All that seemed so far away now. Jim was with Karen and she really wanted to have an honest relationship with Roy - even if the truth hurt. She wanted to do what was right, not just what was easy.
True to form, to his old form, Roy didn’t want to listen to her. He didn’t even give her a chance to explain about that night, or about Jim. How many nights did she sit in their small apartment and listen to his pathetic excuses? How many times did she overlook the fact that he had leered at some girl in a bar? How many times did she make excuses for his behavior with her co-workers? Her cheeks burned red at the idea that she gave him so many chances, ten years worth, and he didn’t give her one when she needed him to.
What hurt more than anything was that Pam never truly believed Roy was a violent man, but now she wasn’t so certain. She had seen her whole life flash before her eyes in that moment, and she ran straight to her car. When she got in she locked the doors and put her head on the steering wheel. She sat there for a few moments in shock, watching as her co-workers also fled the bar, each one shaking their heads in disbelief. She was crying when she turned the ignition, but she wouldn’t break down in that parking lot, she held it together until she got home.
As soon as she turned the lock on her front door, the sobs came. She violently cried out all the frustration and anger and humiliation from the evening. She turned on the water in her shower until it was nearly scalding. She stepped under the spray, the heat was shocking at first and then comforting. She stayed in the shower for 30 minutes as if to wash away all remnants of him and this horrible night.
When she dried off and put on her favorite pajamas, she curled up on her couch and watched David Letterman. She pulled her favorite blanket tightly around her and felt so warm and safe. She dreaded going to work on Monday. Everyone would be talking about the fight. What would Jim think of her? Would he ask her about it or just continue avoiding her? Would he smugly think to himself that he’d known all along the kind of man that Roy was? Would he feel anything? She fell asleep on the couch with her thoughts and fears racing through her head.
