“And in just one…two…three seconds, you have homemade chicken salad, without all the messy chopping!”

Roy rolled over in bed slowly, groaning. He swallowed three times in rapid succession, but it didn’t cure the severe cottonmouth he was suffering from. Glancing bleary-eyed over at the large digital clock, he saw it was a little after eleven. He’d slept about eight hours at least. If given the option, he would roll over and sleep for the next three years. And not only because of the hangover that was determined to make its presence known by banging on his skull.

Last night had been possibly the worst night of his life. He’d been working so hard for the last eight months at trying to make her happy. She had done a very good job of convincing him that everything that had caused her to call off the wedding had been his fault. He didn’t listen, he wouldn’t grow up, and he didn’t appreciate her. And really, when it came right down to it, he’d wasted the last year, no, the last ten years of his life on this girl. A girl who was so fickle she decided to cancel the most important day of her life just because some geek with a Teen Beat haircut stuck his tongue down her throat.

Roy sat up, his vision swimming for a moment before focusing in on the infomercial that was currently playing on the television he had gotten for his bedroom. It was something he’d treated himself to after Pam had moved her stuff out, on account of her never wanting on in here in the first place. She’d always thought it should be a place for sleep and only sleep, but now many times had she kept him awake by reading in the morning hours, curled up on her side with a book? On those nights, unable to sleep with a halogen lamp blinding him, he would climb out of bed and proceed to the couch, where he would flop down, perturbed at being ousted from his own bed.

“Kenny!” he called, making his way down the hallway. His too-large pajama pants drug along the carpet, but he didn’t really care. Entering the living room, he took in his brother, splayed face down on the rug in from of the big screen. “Hey,” he persisted, judging his sibling with a bare foot. “Get up, man. I’ll make us some breakfast.”

Roy slowly shuffled his way into the kitchen, not waiting for his brother to stir before starting work on a hangover remedy. Trying to remember what Pam had always given him, he pulled out a dozen eggs and some tomato juice from his fridge. He stared at the rest of the contents of the fridge, scanning his memory unsuccessfully. His mind flew to a completely ridiculous thought that involved calling her to ask her what the ingredients were before physically shaking his head to remove the idea. ‘To hell with that,’ he thought angrily, putting the eggs and juice back into the refrigerator.

To hell with her, too. The thing that made the warehouse worker the maddest of all was the notion that Pam had only gotten back together with him in some sick twist attempt to get back at Halpert for banging that hot new girl. Had he only been a pawn in some master scheme that Pam had to win over the sales guy? Had she been trying to make Jim jealous by taking up with him again?

Roy thought back to the night of Bob Vance’s wedding, when he’d brought her back here, her hands shaking slightly as she unbuttoned his shirt. When he’d pressed her into the mattress, his fingers running over her curves roughly, had she closed her eyes in ecstasy, or was it merely that she was imagining someone else with her?

He pulled out a nearly full carton of orange juice and, bending over to his liquor cabinet, produced an unopened bottle of vodka. Pouring equals parts into a tall glass, he took a large swallow. The liquor heated his belly, and he felt a tiny bit of his physical tension dissipate.

‘And Halpert,’ he ruminated, taking another drink. Where the hell did he come off? He sat the glass down and looked at the swollen knuckles on his right hand. He’d had too much to drink last night, that was for sure. After not drinking at all for the last eight months since he’d gotten his DUI, his body was a little under prepared for his normal drinking habits, let alone the new heights on inebriation he’d reached last night. “Just another thing I did for her,” he said aloud bitterly. It had felt good hitting the bastard though.

“Whu?” Kenny stumbled into the kitchen, half his face flat and red and covered in carpet marks. “Hey,” he said once he’d gotten his bearings.

“That son of a bitch stole her right out from under me,” Roy said in lieu of ‘hello’. “I trusted him. She said they were friends, he said they were friends…” He poured a large screwdriver for his brother before taking another sip from his own. “What if she was cheating on the me the whole time?”

“What did I tell you, man?” Kenny grabbed his morning cocktail and sat down at the kitchen table. “I said to you after she left you last year that she wasn’t worth it, didn’t I?” He gave Roy a leveling stare. “I said to you, I said you should find some hot young thing to screw and did you? No….” He took a drink, smacking his lips loudly.

“I need to beat the hell out of Halpert,” Roy reasoned, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Pam’s hands had wandered over it just the other night, silently promising him the fresh start he’d been hoping for ever since she’d left.

“No, you don’t,” Kenny answered without even looking at his brother.

“I’m pretty sure I do,” Roy interjected.

“No,” Kenny repeated. “You beat him up, and you’re the bad guy, dude. Trust me, if you hurt him more than you already have, she’s gonna hate you.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Roy replied, chugging down the rest of his screwdriver. Without thinking, he poured himself another one.

“Yes, you do,” Kenny countered. “That’s the part of this that is so messed up, too. Even though she treats you like garbage, lies to you, uses you, you still love her.” He tips his head back, emptying the contents of his glass. “And she loves the nerd with the huge ears.” He chuckled. “Seriously, have you seen those things?”

Roy laughed half-heartedly at Kenny’s slight against the paper salesman. He was so mad at her, at him that he couldn’t see straight, but his brother was right. He did still love her. And there was only one thing he could do about it now.

Without thinking about it another second, he picked up his cell phone and hit speed dial two. He left the kitchen, over the sound the Kenny shouting to hang up the phone.

“Hello.” He voice could freeze water.

“Hey.”

“What do you want Roy?” She asked curtly. “You want a list of more of my friends you can beat up because I said something you didn’t want to hear last night?”

Was she kidding with this? She really was blaming him?

“Whoa, hold on there-” he started.

“You know, he really doesn’t have anything to do with this.” So, she’d already seen him. She’d probably rushed over as soon as she heard that her mean old boyfriend had punched the poor little guy. He had gone down like a little girl, after all. The idea of Pam standing over his bed, nursing him back to health made his blood boil.

“Doesn’t have anything to do with this? Pammy-”

“Don’t call me Pammy,” she got in, flatly.

“What the hell, Pam!” he yelled into the phone.

“Roy,” she said warningly.

He sighed, taking the volume level down about eight clicks. “What kind of an ass tells an engaged woman he has feelings for her?”

“One that probably didn’t mean it in the first place,” she answered quietly. Clearing her throat, she continued. “Look, Jim moved, he came back with a girlfriend. He hasn’t even really spoken to me since he moved back here, okay? Trust me, he doesn‘t still care about me.”

“Then why would you tell me this whole thing Pam? Were you just trying to piss me off? Push me? Did we even get back together because you wanted to, or was it all about Halpert?”

She initially didn’t answer the question, falling silent. “I wanted to see if I’d made a mistake by leaving I guess.” She said it in a very small voice. “I just thought you should know the reason the wedding was called off.”

“Because you were in love with Jim?” He asked sharply.

“I knew that we were not right. You had to know that too Roy. We were fighting all the time.”

“That’s what couples do, they fight, they make up. Jesus, Pam. Did you really think marriage was going to be like some stupid fairytale? Do you think Jim can give that to you?”

“Jim…Jim is not the issue here, Roy. Do you ever listen to what I say?”

“Yeah, I heard you say that he was just a friend, I heard you say you wanted things to work with us…” He shot back. “Am I missing something?”

They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke up again. “Can you tell me you’ll leave him alone?”

There was a pleading tone in her voice that made him nauseous. And then he remembered something. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question,” she asked, sounding weary.

“Are you in love with Halpert?”

She paused. “Are you going to leave him alone?”

“I don’t really need another assault charge on my record.” He stopped, then, readying himself for the inevitable, he asked again. “Are you in love with Halpert?”

Silence. He could hear a muffled sound, and then she sniffled slightly.

“I am trying not to be.”

The final nail in the coffin. Roy cursed under his breath.

“Roy, you promised.”

But he wasn’t really listening anymore. Everything that had happened in the last ten years was undone now. What did his life even mean if she wasn’t part of it?

“Roy?”

“Tell Michael I won’t be in on Monday,” he said dully.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Is it okay that I don’t believe you?” he asked, and then hung up on her. Strolling back into the kitchen, he picked up his glass and threw it at the wall, the sticky residue sure to stain the white a shade of orange.

It was over.