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Author's Chapter Notes:
I don't know where this came from. But here it is...
Disclaimer Don't own Pam (or Jim (damnit) or any of the others for that matter). If I did she and Jim would be all over each other drinking chocolate - or possibly smeared in it. Um. Anyway...

Mirror, Mirror…


The steam from the shower has fogged the bathroom mirror and she stares at it for a long moment, not really wanting to wipe it away. If she does she knows she'll be able to see her face.

And she knows that she'll see the truth there.

It'll be in her eyes, and if she can't mask it anymore what will it mean? How can she pretend that everything hasn't changed if it's written all over her face?

The air from the window she'd cracked before she got in the shower does its job. The mirror clears, inch by inch, section by section until she sees herself revealed.

And she hates what she finds there.

She finds someone who's let so many years, so many chances go by and now, faced with the biggest one of her life she still wants to run and hide.

But she can't.

Because she knows that this isn't a fairytale. She's not the fairest. She knows that. She's seen who he's dated and knows she pales in comparison. When she thinks back on that she can't even imagine why he wants her.

But it seems he does. He said he does. He said that he loves her.

And she can't say it back. The words stick in her throat, clog it like the steam fills the bathroom, wet and hot and thick and suffocating.

She thinks he should leave, he should go, someplace else, someplace better because it's not fair at all to hold him back. She's already wasted her own life.

He shouldn't waste his.

Even as she thinks it she can't breathe, knowing, anticipating what it would be like to really see him walk away. She can already feel what it would be like to go to work and see his desk empty. She's already bracing herself to not hear his voice again, or see his smile because she knows if she doesn't decide he will leave her.

He'll have no other choice.

And she can't let that happen.

The steam clings to her hair and covers her skin and she's suddenly light headed, like she can't stand upright. She hangs on the edge of the sink and wonders if she never left this room if anyone would notice.

He'd notice. He'd notice but would he come after her? Would he even bother now, now that she's told him it's hopeless?

She stares in the mirror and looks at her face and watches a bead of water drip down her cheek and remembers him standing there wiping that tear from his face quickly pretending like it was never there to begin with.

But she'd noticed. And she can't deny the truth anymore.

Even though the air is warm she shivers wearing nothing but one of the towels her mother bought her at her wedding shower. It's well worn and faded but she can't replace it, shouldn't have to replace it. These things should be brand new instead of three years old and she knows that's a sign.

It's a symbol she knows but she's reluctant to let these things go. She'd had so much hope back then. She had so much hope a day ago.

She had so much hope and thought she knew what she wanted but now all she feels is indecision…and dread.

The possibility of making the wrong choice is paralyzing.

So she stands in the tiny bathroom with the steam swirling around her and closes her eyes and wishes and hopes that when she walks out she'll be able to find some magic potion that will make her brave enough and will make him patient enough to wait while she tries to figure it all out.

The last of the steam leaves the room lifting like a fog as she moves towards the door reaching for the handle.

And just like in fairytales she hopes in her heart that no matter what choice she makes her dreams will still come true.


xoxoxo is the author of 67 other stories.
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