The bar was as busy as Pam expected it to be for a cool, quiet Saturday afternoon. A few patrons quietly drank their beers and chatted away. Some of them noticeably turned and stared at Pam when she walked by them. She had put the jeans back on, and a nice, form fitting red v-neck sweater, and had left her hair down. Makeup was always minimal with Pam. She was happy with her complexion and never felt the need for lots of cover up. A little light red lipstick was all she usually applied.
She spotted Jim, sitting alone in a corner table, drinking a beer, watching the Indians game on the corner television. He was still wearing the dress shirt and pants from the funeral, but the blazer and tie had been left behind. He looked amazingly hot to her, and it caused her stomach to flutter a little at the mere sight of him.
When Jim spotted Pam, he sat up, and smiled immediately. Dear God, look at her! He thought. She looked incredible. Jim realized that he always thought she looked incredible. He had had more than a few girlfriends in his time, all of which he had been physically attracted to in some way, but he realized that none of them made him feel the way he felt when he looked at Pam.
Pam walked to Jim’s table and sat down.
"Hi, Jim" she said with a smile.
"Hello, Pamela".
"Nice, James. Pam’ll do fine thanks."
"Fair enough. As will Jim."
"So," Jim sighed a heavy sigh. He knew that this was going to be a long, and at times difficult conversation, and thinking about it made him uncomfortable. But he knew the things on his mind had to be said. There was nothing more that he wanted right now than to be honest with Pam. Just to explain everything to her, so that she might better understand why he had done what he had done.
"So, I think I have some explaining to do. You deserve an explanation of my whereabouts and actions over the last little while," Jim began.
"You mean, like, the last three years?" Pam asked, attempting to add some levity to the conversation.
But Jim was clearly wanting to stay on task, and he continued.
"Yeah. Yes, the last three years. You see, when Karen and I left, I didn’t tell you, but we had been planning to leave for almost three months. Karen and I had applied for positions at corporate the March before we left. By late April, we both had received confirmation of positions. So, we left that May. I think that’s right. It was May?"
"Yes." Pam agreed. She remembered that May so clearly now. She would never forget how she felt that Monday when she heard that Jim and Pam had transferred out. Gone, without even a goodbye. Yes, it had hurt, and it still hurt her a little even now to think of it, but the passing of time had allowed her to heal those wounds somewhat. In the days, months, and years that followed, little by little, Pam had tried to allow herself to forgive Jim for leaving her, even though she did not understand why he had left. But she knew that she could never fully forgive Jim until he did what he was doing now; clearly, plainly and unabashedly explaining himself to her, and in the process, seeking her forgiveness. What Jim did not know was that Pam was ready to forgive him. She had purposed in her heart to be harder on Jim, to hold on to the last waves of anger she felt toward him for all the things he had put her through. But even as she tried to hold on to that anger and that sadness she knew it was slipping away... Bit by bit it was being swallowed up in the ocean that was Pam’s undying, limitless love for Jim Halpert
"Pam, I didn’t want to leave." Jim continued.
"I need you to know that. I didn’t want to leave when I went to Stamford, and I didn’t want to leave when I left for Corporate three years ago. There was a time, once, when you and I were best friends. It’s so sad, because it feels so long ago now, but once upon that time it was real, and it was one of the happiest, and yet saddest and craziest times in my life. You were my constant, unfailing friend. I knew I always had your support. When I left for Stamford, well, we know why. I had laid it on the table how I felt about you, and it was an unfair and inopportune time for me to do so. So when I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to be with you, I left. And I met Karen. I now realize that Karen was my attempt at finding a replacement for you. I know that may sound cruel and unfair to her, but it was true. The whole time I was back at Scranton and Karen and I were together, it was just...so awful. Karen was nice, and we were good friends, but it was so obvious that we were never going to be more than that. And she just couldn’t accept that. She couldn’t give it up. Things got really strained between us, that winter before we left. Every day I woke up I intended to break up with Karen. I just couldn’t live like that anymore. It was killing me. And even worse, what was killing me more, was that I knew you had feelings for me. I knew that the Pam Beesley I came back to Scranton to, was different than the one I left. You never said it, and I never confronted you on it, but I knew. I knew you had had a change of heart about me, and about us. I knew that if I was single, if I had broken up with Karen, that you and I had a chance at being together.
"Really? You knew?" Pam interjected. "But then, I don’t understand. You’re right. I did have feelings for you. More than just feelings, though. I realized, after you left for Stamford, that I was in love with you. Funny, that you spent so long in love with me, and it wasn’t until you left that I realized that I had loved you all along too."
Pam amazed even herself with how open she was being with Jim. And yet, even in this conversation, in which both people were equally bearing their hearts and souls to the other, Pam couldn’t escape the feeling that it all felt a little too clinical. Like they were surgeons or forensic doctors who were coldly and calculatingly doing a post mortem. Point by point determining the cause of death of their friendship and love for one another. But that wasn’t completely true, or so Pam thought. For Pam was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt that the body of love they were now analyzing and pouring over was not dead in the slightest. Yes, perhaps once it had died. Once, perhaps, it had been snuffed out, but Pam was beginning to feel that things were certainly changing. Out of the ashes, something vibrant and green and beautiful was growing...
"Funny, huh? Well that’s one way to describe it." Jim noted.
"So yeah, that made it especially tough on me, knowing that you loved me and that I still...."
He paused, and took a breath. "Knowing that I still loved you, even then."
For a moment a silence passed between the two. It was fitting, because it was a moment not appropriate for words. It was a moment of acknowledgment, of understanding, of harmony between the two. It was a moment, a few mere seconds, but in that moment, more conversation passed between them than they had had in all the years they had been together. And yet, amazingly, there was still so much to discuss.
"So yeah. I think it was that March, when I finally got the courage up to break things off with Karen -"
Pam interrupted.
"But you said March was when you and her had decided to both apply for jobs at Corporate?"
"Yes, Pam. Patience. I’m getting to it," Jim replied.
"I remember the conversation like it was yesterday. We were out at that Thai restaurant, it was some anniversary of months we’d been together. Karen, I guess, had thought that I had set the evening up because I was planning to ask her to marry me. She told me that later. She told me that’s what she really wanted. But really, I was there to break it off with her. I remember I told her that we should break up, that we were better off as friends. And then..."
He paused.
"And then she said the last thing I had ever expected, or honestly wanted to hear her say. She said "Jim, I’m four weeks pregnant."
