“Honesty, Courage”

1. truthfulness, sincerity, or frankness.

1. the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.

She had handwritten the last item on the list herself. Just two words that had burned into her brain ever since she had overheard them at her art show. “Those were never really Pam’s strong points,” Oscar had said. Honesty. Courage.

She wasn’t being honest with Jim. If she were, he would know she wasn’t okay every day she sat at her desk. She didn’t know how to tell him she loved him, so she hid. She stared at the back of his neck, some days longer than others, remembering how soft his hair was and how lucky she had been to touch him, even though it was just once.

Karen caught her looking one time. She quickly drew her attention back to Solitaire, and felt the all-too familiar twinge of jealousy creep up her spine. It was unbearable.

Pam looked at the painting. It was almost done, but she had hit a wall. She wanted to finish it, but leaving it incomplete seemed more attractive. She was safe not knowing what the finished piece would look like. Maybe she wouldn’t finish it. Maybe she could just leave it on the easel.

Pam hadn’t known.

She put her brush to the canvas and painted.

***

“...Hey, Jim.” She was sitting in her usual spot at reception. Jim was on the way out the door with Karen.

“I won an art contest today.” She was smiling, but a little unsure of what his reaction would be.

“No way!” He was grinning from ear to ear. She hadn’t seen him grin like that in... well, since he’d gotten back to Scranton months ago. She was happy to know she could still make him smile. “All right, Pam! Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” she said as he slapped her a high-five. He started to ask her about the award.

“You ready, Jim?” Karen bitched from the doorway. Pam was taken a little off-guard, but Jim seemed to handle it.

“Yeah.” He started to back out of the room, still looking at Pam. “Can I see it when I get back?”

“Yeah.” Pam waved him out, as he turned back to congratulate her again. And again.

He was gone from the room, but Pam felt surrounded by his encouragement. “Big deal!” he had happily exclaimed. The art contest wasn’t that big of a deal, it really wasn’t. But it meant something to her, and he made her feel valuable. He was the only one all day who had made her feel as if she had accomplished something. And it made her love him even more.

An hour later, Jim and Karen came back from their coffee break. Jim shot Pam a quick look that she couldn’t identify, and then went straight to his desk. She had already loaded the page online so Jim could see her painting, and she wondered why he hadn’t even asked her about it.

She wasn't an expert at reading the back of Jim's neck, but right now it seemed to say “Don’t ask me about anything.” So she didn’t.

5:00 rolled around, and Pam wasn’t quite ready to shut her computer down and pack in in for the night. She was still holding out hope that Jim hadn’t completely forgotten about her and would come ask to see her painting.

She watched Karen turn off her computer, grab her purse and lean against Jim’s desk.

“You ready to go?” she asked him.

Jim drew a breath. “I’ve still got about 45 minutes of work to do. I’ve got to organize Dwight’s clients for redistribution tomorrow.”

“Then, shouldn’t you be at... Dwight’s desk?” she asked.

“Well, yeah. I was just about to move.” It wasn’t like Jim was lying. Michael had given him that last-minute assignment after Dwight had abruptly quit. (Pam remembered because she overheard Michael asking Jim if keeping him late was going to ruin their friendship.)

Pam wondered why Karen sounded so... suspicious. Had something happened while they were at coffee?

“I’ll come over when I’m finished, okay?” Jim said.

“Okay.” Karen started to go. Her hair had thankfully flattened a little from Phyllis’ awful makeover, and she had removed most of the makeup.

“Have a nice night, Pam,” she said as she walked past reception. Pam noticed the slightest hint of frostiness in her tone.

“You too, Karen.”

Stanley, Toby, and Michael were the last to leave. Even the camera crew had called it a night. Pam and Jim were the only two remaining in the office. Jim was now at Dwight’s desk, facing her. He was hard at work on Dwight’s computer. Pam looked at him for a minute, then decided she really couldn’t drag this out any longer without making it obvious she was hanging around for him. She turned off her computer and got up to leave.

“I told Karen about us, so... that’s why she’s being weird.” When Jim spoke it was so unexpected that Pam practically jumped.

“Oh.” She suddenly got a chill. She wasn’t sure what to say. It was the first time since his first day back that he had acknowledged anything had ever happened between them. “What did you say?”

“Just, you know, that there was a little bit of history between us. I didn’t go into any detail or anything.” He was still sort of plucking away at the keyboard, half-interested in whatever he was working on and half-interested in what he was saying. Or at least pretending to be.

“Wow. That must have been uncomfortable,” Pam said, because she couldn‘t think of anything else to say. “Why... did... I mean, did you...?” She trailed off. She wanted to know how on earth that conversation came into existence.

“I don‘t know, exactly. I sure didn’t bring it up.” He was still looking at the computer screen.

Pam wondered how Karen found out. Did she maybe pick up on something? Was it Michael? She definitely wouldn’t be surprised. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. She walked over to Jim’s desk and plopped down across from him, her arms wrapped in her coat and scarf in front of her. She looked him dead in the eyes.

“I didn’t say anything to her, if that’s what you think.” She didn’t say it angrily. It was in a small voice, smaller than her regular voice.

He finally looked at her. He sized her up. “I didn‘t think you did.” She could tell he hadn’t known until just then. But he believed her.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Pam’s mind was on the two of them, right here, not so long ago, in a very different situation. Her eyes flickered over to Jim’s old desk just for a moment, but long enough for him to see it. Was he thinking about the same thing?

She didn’t want to know yet, so she didn’t ask him. He was probably thinking about Karen instead of her. How she was waiting at home for him to pick her up, and how no matter what Pam was thinking about in that moment it wouldn’t stop Jim from carrying on his life the way he wanted to.

So she broke the gaze and got up, starting to head out.

“Pam.”

She turned around. “Yeah?”

“You said you’d show me your painting. You know, the one that won the contest.”

She had forgotten all about it. “Oh, yeah!” She went over to where he sat at Dwight’s desk. She told him what web address to type in. The web page was a little complicated so she reached for the mouse.

She gave him a moment to decide to move his hand, and when he didn’t, she put hers over his and guided the mouse to the proper link. What a cliche, she thought. But she didn’t mind at all.

The page loaded up and Jim looked at the painting. “Wow, Beesley.” It was exactly like when they had first met three years ago and he was looking at her artwork for the very first time. She wasn’t surprised at his reaction. Jim had loved everything she’d ever drawn. He didn’t say anything for a minute.

She realized her hand was still on his, that neither of them had moved even though there were plenty of reasons they should. Pam couldn’t describe the feeling. It was as if they were both willing participants in some ilicit affair, and all they were doing was viewing a web page.

He decided to slide his hand out first. Using the painting as an excuse, he pointed at part of it and asked Pam a question. She answered it, and the feeling was gone.

After a bit of small talk about her painting, he changed the subject. “Well, I’d kind of like to get out of here sometime tonight, so I should probably finish this stuff.”

“All right.” Pam started to leave. “Have a good night, Jim.” She didn’t want to think about what he’d be doing.

“’Night, Beesley.”

She walked out without another word.

***

That moment when she touched his hand had been the highlight of the past couple months. It had been nice being back together with Roy, and even for a short time feeling like there was someone there who cared about her. But those moments hadn’t even come close to the way she had felt standing so close to Jim, with her hand on his.

Now it was even over with Roy. She didn’t have anybody anymore.

It was a good thing, Pam realized, that she had given Roy a second chance. Even if things weren’t going to work out with Jim, at the time she had called off their wedding she wondered if it had been a mistake. Now she knew, for sure, that she had made the right decision.

It didn’t make work any easier, though. Jim still came in with Karen, and left with Karen.

Pam put her paints away and went to bed. Tomorrow was Monday... another week of torture.

When she got into work, there was a note from Roy taped to her computer. It simply asked her to meet him downstairs, in the warehouse. For a brief moment she was a little apprehensive, but it quickly disappeared. As angry as Roy had gotten last night, she knew deep down that he would never deliberately hurt her.

She was a little concerned about Jim, however.

She descended the stairs and saw Roy right away. His face was indescribable. He looked completely worn out, but there was still a trace of anger left in his features She knew him long enough to know that much.

They wordlessly walked into one of the storage aisles where they wouldn’t be seen or overheard, hopefully, by the nosy cameras. Pam wasn’t going to speak first.

“I’m so sorry about last night,” Roy started.

“Roy, I don’t think-”

“No, no, I know. It’s over. I get it.” He put his hand to his forehead and grimaced, like he had a headache. “I just... want to clear the air, you know?”

Pam nodded. “I’d like that, too.”

“So, why don’t you tell me. Whatever you want. And I promise I’ll listen.”

She hesitated. What possible reason could she have to tell Roy anything anymore? It wasn’t as if anything was going to happen with Jim, not at this point. Then she looked into his eyes for a moment, and knew he knew it was really over. She couldn’t believe how... sad his eyes were. He tried to appear angry and frustrated, but after ten years she knew him better than she cared to admit anymore.

“Okay,” she said. “The truth is, I really wanted you and me to work. I really did.”

Roy looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept to his word and let her talk.

“I told you about Jim because it’s been eating me alive for months. But even if you hadn’t reacted the way you did, I think we still would have wasted another three years and then broken up again.”

“‘Wasted?’” he asked.

Pam didn’t want to hurt Roy. She just wanted everything to be over. She was so tired of it all.

“Roy, I love you. Part of me always will.” She took his hand. “But it took me three years to realize I’ve been falling for Jim ever since I met him.”

Roy winced at the sound of Jim’s name and looked away from her. The anger was back.

“Please, Roy,” she pleaded. “Don’t be like this. Nothing happened before that one night. You have to believe me. I didn’t even know Jim had feelings, real feelings for me until that night.”

“Is he why you called off our wedding?” His eyes were glistening. She’d never seen Roy cry once in ten years. Pam looked down.

“I thought he was.” She really did at the time. Jim’s confession had made her question her relationship with Roy, really question it for the first time since they’d been together. She didn’t know if things would ever be right again with Jim, but she knew for a fact things were wrong with Roy. “But I realize now that I want something else. Something more. Someone who can give me more.”

“You mean you want Jim Halpert.”

Roy looked into her eyes and she saw pain. She’d seen it before, but this time she could see something else that she had certainly never seen: defeat.

“I‘m so sorry, Pam.” He cupped her face in his hands. “I should have been able to give you what you wanted, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

She wrapped her arms around him. It wasn’t like this the first time they broke up. He didn’t throw glass then, but there was anger, and confusion, and humiliation. Not sadness, or this bittersweet feeling. Roy had been her whole world, and it had taken her ten years to find life outside him.

“Do you still love him?” he murmured into her hair.

“Yes,” she said simply. “I do.”

He was quiet for a minute, and she could feel his heart beating. He was silently sobbing, and she knew what he was feeling. He was losing her. She knew that loss only too well.

“I do care about you, Pam. I really just want you to be happy, you know that, right?” he asked her. His voice was gruff, but she could hear the tears he was trying to hold back.

Pam nodded. He had never been like this, ever, and she knew she’d never see it again. She felt an overwhelming desire to stay there with him for a moment.

“I want you to be happy, too.”

“And I don’t want you to be with me if you’re just pretending.” He was returning to normal again. Not angry, but not heartbroken. Just Roy.

“I know,” she said. “I don’t want to have to pretend.”

“Then this really is over.” He stepped back and looked at her. “Pam, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And I hope whatever guy you wind up with lets you know what you mean to him before it’s too late.”

Pam smiled. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, her fingers barely touching his chest. “Thank you, Roy.”

It was hard to believe she'd finally gathered the strength to be honest with Roy for the first time in months. It felt good. She felt free.

She left him and headed back upstairs. She realized she hadn’t asked him if he planned on pummeling Jim, but all suspicions of that seemed put to rest.

She stopped in the bathroom and composed herself before returning to work. When she got back and sat down, she noticed Jim was watching her curiously. After a few minutes, she realized practically everyone was stealing glances at her. The she remembered that most of them had witnessed the scene last night and all possibility of getting through this day with dignity was probably shot to hell.

Jim got up and walked over to her desk. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” she looked up at him.

“Are you... okay?” he looked genuinely concerned.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I heard... something happened last night.”

“Something did happen last night. Roy and I broke up.”

“Yeah... that‘s kind of what I heard. I‘m sorry, Pam.”

“Are you?” The words were out of her mouth before she even had time to know what she was saying.

He seemed taken aback momentarily. He lowered his voice a bit. “Um... well, if you really are fine, which you seem to be, then I gotta tell you... not really.” He grinned. “You really deserve more than him, Pam. You do.”

She wasn’t sure if he meant it in any way besides that of a supportive friend. But she’d take it; at this point, just talking to him was already taking away the sting of the morning. So she smiled back at him.

She decided to whisper, since they were in earshot of several people. “I know that now. I wish I’d known it sooner.”

Their eyes spoke volumes to each other. In that moment, everything was understood. Just left unsaid.

He tapped the counter a couple times and took a deep breath, turning around to sit back at his desk. Pam saw that Karen was engrossed in her work and wasn’t really paying any attention to them anymore. Maybe, Pam hoped, Karen had given up. Maybe Karen realized Jim could never love her the way she deserved, just like Pam knew Roy couldn’t for her.

Maybe.

Later that afternoon, Jim spun around in his chair and stole a glance at Pam. He stood up and walked over to her desk. Without a word, and without his eyes leaving hers, he took his wallet out of his pocket, opened it up, pulled a piece of paper out of it and dropped it into her inbox.

Confused, Pam reached for it. It wasn’t a piece of paper.

She was looking into a familiar face. It was the napkin she had drawn on for him over three years ago. He had saved it, after all. Even though she had broken his heart. Even though he was with someone else. Even though their friendship had suffered so many trials.

She looked up at him and he smiled. A nice smile. The way he used to smile at her.

She turned the napkin over.

It was written in red sharpie.

She was so engrossed in her napkin, by the time she looked up again he was back to work. She gazed at the back of his neck. This time she knew for sure what it was saying.

Save for a couple necessary folds, the napkin was still in perfect condition. Overwhelmed, she put it in her desk drawer and shut it gently.

She couldn’t wait to get home and finish her painting. She now knew exactly what it was going to look like. She wasn’t going to blow it this time. She was going to get it right.