"Hold the elevator!" Pam wanted to ignore Karen's voice. She wanted nothing more than to put this day behind her. But even Fancy New Beesley couldn't be rude. She pushed the OPEN button and Karen slid in, with Jim behind her. "Thanks."

Pam hated that elevator.

After a few moments that felt like a million, the doors opened. Pam took off like a shot down the hall, past the security desk and down the corridor. She couldn't feel Jim's eyes burning into her back through her thick blue wool coat as she rounded the corner.

"I've got to go to the bathroom." He didn't even mean to say it. He didn't have to go.

"Why didn't you go upstairs?" Karen asked.

"I forgot." He felt five years old.

"Well, I've got to get gas anyway, so you want to just meet me at my place?"

"Yeah." The answer was mechanical.

Jim watched her leave, then slowly navigated his way down the hallway Pam went down. Towards the downstairs bathrooms. He wasn't even sure where she went. If she was in the ladies' he certainly wasn't going to follow her. He didn't even know what he was doing. He had no idea what he was going to say if he ran into her. But his answer came; he heard her crying.

She was sitting on the iron bench between the two bathrooms, her head in her hands. He went to her, knelt down. She was sobbing quietly. He took one of her hands into his. It was warm and soft. He hadn't held it since the night she said no.

The words came out of nowhere. "I love you, Jim." She hadn't even looked up; it was as if she knew it was him. He felt a knot in his gut twist, harshly. And then just as quickly it released and lifted. His eyes welled up. He didn't recognize her, but he loved her. She raised her head and he looked into her eyes. Even while kneeling he was a little taller than her. Suddenly she was kissing him, and her hands felt so good on his face, and he felt awful and wonderful and she was kissing him and saying "sorry" and kissing him again.

It was really happening. It was, because his brain told him to stop but he was kissing her back. He knew at once that this was exactly how she felt that night. Because he remembered all too well that she had also kissed him back. Everything about that kiss he remembered; every detail of it. The taste, his hands, her hands, her eyes, her dress, her hair... her.

He realized he couldn't remember anything about last night with Karen.

She stopped kissing him, and pulled back. He was staring at her tearstained face, the face he had gazed at so longingly so many times. He had never seen it like this before. It killed him that she looked like that because of him.

"Pam?"

She put her head in her hands and started crying again. She didn't speak. Jim waited, terrified she would take it back again. That just like last time, she would be his for a mere moment and then she would disappear forever.

"I'm sorry I did that," she said.

He didn't respond. He stood up and walked around her, gently picked up her purse, and moved it so he was sitting right beside her. He couldn't think of anything right now but comforting her. Nothing else mattered to him. He couldn't see her like this.

He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She buried her face into his chest and he stroked her hair and everything was okay. He was here, holding her. Maybe she was loving him for real this time, the way he did before, the way she should have before it got so fucked up.

"I fucked it all up," she said into his shirt, like she was reading his mind. He was wearing the light blue one. She had told him before she liked it best on him.

His heart nearly stopped. He felt like she had said so much, he needed to process it all. But she kept talking.

"I called off my wedding because of you."

He knew it. He knew it. But he hadn't known it for sure until now.

"Why didn't you tell me?" was all he could think of to say. "Why didn't you call? Email, text message, homing pigeon?"

She laughed at his joke, and it was music to his ears.

"I was scared, Jim. I didn't know if you cared anymore. I hurt you. I hated myself for it."

He was scared, too. He didn't know why. She was saying everything he had wanted to hear for so long.

He became aware that she was shaking. That she was still scared, that he hadn't yet said what she wanted to hear. He wanted to tell her so badly.

"Of course I still love you, Pam. Of course I do."

Pam sighed and started to calm. He didn't want to move, ever. The iron bench they were sitting on was the most comfortable place he'd ever been in her life.

His wounds were healed, just like that.

They sat like that for what felt like forever, which was just what they wanted, until Jim broke the silence.

"By the way, your prank on Dwight today with the 'Wanted' flyers was brilliant. In all my years here, I never got him arrested."

She loved him and he loved her. They were them again. Everything was perfect.

Pam took his hand in hers. "I learned from the best."