Jim pulls up to work one chilly morning and winces when the cold air hits his tender cheek. It throbs when he looks at the warehouse door, and he replays the incident of several days before, when Roy presented him with this black eye.

Now Roy was gone, but his acts lingered, his legacy physically on Jim's face and intangibly in the air. Jim couldn't even be a bit relieved that Roy had been let go; it had been so shaming for Roy and for Pam, and even for himself. Now things were rockier than ever with Karen, and he can't blame her for being wary of practically anything.  

He shoulders his bag and is about to go inside when he sees Pam's little blue car parked in a far corner. He knows her well enough to know that this is unusual.  He looks again and sees a figure slumped over the steering wheel. His heart thuds and he breaks into a cold sweat as he runs the few yards over to her.

She looks up as he stops at her door, and she's got tears streaking down her face and he's never seen her look so defeated. He opens her door and crouches down, and she crumples. "What's wrong?" he asks, and it seems like she can barely get the words out. "Ph-phyllis's wedd- I'm pregnant," she sobs, and falls into his shoulder.

He hugs her shaking body and feels his heart ache for her. This is the biggest remnant of Roy, a cluster of cells, and he has no idea what Pam will do, or should do.   There's a lump in his throat as he tells her, "I'm here, I'll help you get through this." and he feels selfish but so sad, because he knows no matter what happens, hearts will be broken.