Pam stood up and took a deep breath. She had been playing a heartbreaking game of chicken with herself the last several days, and her chance had finally arrived. Ever since she made the mistake of going home with Roy at Phyllis's wedding, Jim had pretty much stopped talking to her. That had hurt deeply, but after Roy tried to attack Jim right in the office, Jim had taken things one step further. For the last week he had been practically cruel to her, meeting her attempts to apologize with sarcasm and dismissal. When he'd gone so far as to suggest it was only a matter of time before she and Roy got back together, something inside just snapped.

True, she'd headed home that night and cried most of the night into her pillow. She could understand Jim being angry with her, but where his bitterness came from she sincerely didn't know. What she did know what that she needed to let him know how she felt. How he was hurting her. She could not believe he would be so purposely unkind if she could just bring herself to call him on it.

And so here they were. Pam had started staying late every day, hoping to catch a chance to talk to Jim. The first few days of the week he'd left with Karen, with not so much as even glance her way as they headed out. But tonight Karen had left early for some reason, and as the clock swept past five-thirty, she noticed the only people left were her and him.

Jim was typing at his computer as Pam walked out from behind her desk. She slipped her shoes off, because she didn't want him to hear her approach. If he turned around before she approached him, it would ruin everything. She walked slowly, silently until she reached his chair, his back toward her as usual. Relying on instinct honed from the millions of times she'd played this scene out in her mind, she reached out and gently placed her hands on his shoulders. As soon as she touched him, he froze, his hand still hovering over the keyboard.

"Pam," she heard him say, his voice both uncertain and troubled.

"Just listen," she said, her voice firm even as her insides were shaking. She squeezed his shoulders slightly, looking down at his thick, dark hair. "I know that you are angry and that you hate me now,"

"I don't hate you," he interuppted, his voice hoarse.

"I know that you want to hate me," she said. She crossed her arms around his shoulders in a quick embrace as she brought her face down near his left ear. "But that's never going to change how I feel about you." She gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek, the result of feeling like it might be the last time she was ever close enough to have the opportunity.

Jim grabbed her left wrist before she could step away. "And exactly how do you feel about me, Pam?" He asked harshly without turning around. "I'm not sure I've ever really known."

This wasn't how Pam had expected things to go. She tried to pull her hand back, but he continued to hold fast. "You mean everything to me," she whispered, knowing that nothing but the truth would do anymore. "You always have." He dropped her wrist at her reply, and Pam walked away. She slipped on her shoes and reached for her coat when she heard him speak again.

"What does that even mean?"

He had finally turned in his chair to face her. He looked tired and beaten, but for the first time in ages, he was looking at her. Really looking at her. She thought she saw the same haunted look in his eyes that she'd noticed in her own. For a brief moment she felt the deja vu of a night last May, and knew the second chance she'd been praying for might be lost forever if she didn't seize it now.

"It means that I love you. I've always loved you. I'm always going to love you." She felt herself flush as she spoke, but she refused to break eye contact. She was so lightheaded after her confession that she didn't know how she was still standing. But she continued to stand there, looking at him, waiting for a response.

But he didn't even seem to react. He just looked at her silently, and Pam decided she had to leave. If he had nothing to say to that, then there was nothing else she could do. She grabbed her coat and walked toward the door without even putting it on. She could feel the last of her nerves shattering and tears threatening to fall. She wanted to leave with a little dignity intact. As she reached for the handle his hand slammed down on the door, startling her. She looked up at him in shock; he looked down at her scowling.

"Then why Roy?" he demanded. "How could you?" His last three words laid open to Pam the source of all his hurt and bitterness. She had never fathomed until that moment just how much distaste Jim had for her former fiance.

Her single laugh was shaky and hollow. "It was such a stupid thing to do," she admitted. "I think I knew that even then. But you don't understand - I was so lonely, and at Phyllis' wedding.... well, it amplified my loneliness by so much more." She looked up at him, and he nodded slightly, as if encouraging her to continue. "And you were there, and I wanted so much to be with you, and when I saw you dancing with - with her, wanting it so much to be me you were dancing with...." Pam paused, willing herself not to cry. She did not want to cry. She quickly wiped away an errant tear. "I left the ballroom and suddenly Roy was there, and he wanted to dance with me, and I guess I felt so sorry for myself that I thought at least someone cared."

She sighed and leaned back against the wall, dropping her pink coat and her purse on the floor. She knotted her hands together nervously. She looked up at him again, and his scowl was gone, replaced with a sad expression.

"Why haven't you said anything before now?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost apologetic.

"I don't think you appreciate how much you've closed yourself off to me since coming back, Jim," she said earnestly. "I wanted to tell you the first day you came back. I asked you out for coffee, hoping we could get away from the prying eyes of...of everyone, and you turned me down." Pam sighed. "You'd 'evolved'. Pretty much after that I saw you with Karen, and so where did that leave me?"

It was Jim's turn to sigh and lean against the wall opposite her in the narrow foyer. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

"All this time?" He asked, looking over at Pam. Asking as if he almost couldn't comprend it. Their eyes met and she nodded slowly, unable to stop the tears from forming this time.

"Oh, Pam," Jim breathed, his anguish clear. They stood unmoving, simply staring at each other, until Jim slowly extended his left hand out to her. Pam gave a small, hopeful smile and reached out to grasp his hand. Their fingers had just touched as the office door swung open. Pam jumped back, as the door separated them and briefly eclipsed her view.

"There you are, Halpert!" Karen cried, throwing her arms around him. "I couldn't believe it when I saw your car was still here - why aren't you waiting for me at my place?"

Pam quickly lean down for her purse and coat, needing to escape the overwhelming sense of despair that was crushing her chest. "Excuse me," she said softly, pushing between the open door and Karen who was still pressed up against Jim.

She only a few steps down the hallway when she heard Jim call her name. Any thought of stopping quickly evaporated as she heard Karen angrily calling Jim's name. Instead Pam continued onward, hearing his footsteps behind her. She felt his hand on her elbow as she pressed the elevator button. She turned toward him, unable to ignore him any longer.

"Pam, please," Jim said, "Don't walk away now."

Pam could see Karen was standing in the hallway, watching them. "I have to go," she replied, her voice shaking. "And...and your girlfriend is waiting for you."

"Pam," he implored, as the door opened.

Pam gently pulled her arm away and stepped in. Turning to face him, she brushed away an errant tear. "I meant everything I said, Jim. You know where you can find me," she said, and pushed the button to close the elevator doors.