Pam didn't even want to know how many different colored smudges were on her face as she stood up to take a look at her painting. It was her final project for the quarter, and her instructor had encouraged her to try acrylics. After using watercolors almost exclusively for years, the bold colors were still a bit jarring to Pam, but she was finally starting to like her results.

She didn't want to admit she had been thinking about Jim all weekend, but she had; wondering if he had heard back from Wallace, if he was really going to New York. She was initially upset at the thought of Jim leaving. The Jim she knew; the one who joked around with her all day, the one who cheered her up whenever Roy was being a jerk (which she now realized was often), the one who told her he loved her and kissed her in a way that made her question the last decade of her life, that Jim would have never considered moving to New York City. But Pam had accepted a few things since Monday and one was the very real possibility that Jim had changed. She knew she had changed significantly since that cool May night; that even six months ago she couldn't have dreamed of saying what she said at the beach to anyone, much less the whole office. She had changed, and so had he, and perhaps now was the time for both of them to move on.

Her phone started to ring, and she quickly wiped her hands on a rag and looked to see Jim was calling. She took a deep breath and answered.

"Hey, Pam, are you busy?" he said in a tone that Pam couldn't decided was sad or angry or anything.

"No," Pam said. Her painting wasn't due until Tuesday.

"I was hoping we could talk," he said, still in that unrecognizable tone. "I mean, in person."

"Okay," Pam said, proud of herself for sounding calm though her stomach was knotting up.

"Can we meet at the office in a half hour?"

"Cool, see you then." She hit the "end" button and set the cell-phone down before scoffing softly. The office, why on earth did he want to meet at the office? She was ready to call back and suggest a coffee shop, or a fast-food restaurant. Heck, the library would have been a better location; at least she could walk in there without being reminded of all the mistakes she's made. Get it together, Beesly, she told herself, and she walked to the bathroom to clean herself up.

* * * * *

Pam walked off the elevator and around the corner to see the door to the office was already ajar. As she pushed the door open and walked slowly into the darkened room, her mind was assaulted with images. The bridesmaid dress from Roy's sister's wedding, the phone cord she curled her fingers in, the ring that felt oddly heavy on her hand, a tall slouching figure, "Um, I have to go." "Talk to him, Pam." "I will."

She entered the main room and saw Jim sitting at his desk, drumming his fingers. She stopped when he looked up and they stared at each other for several long seconds before he stood and half smiled, "Hi."

"Hey," Pam said. She had a quick flash to coke cans and a game of jinx that went too far before looking towards the kitchen. She saw Karen's desk was empty and sharply inhaled, then looked past Jim to see his desk was clear save a cardboard box full of his things. She clenched her jaw and looked down to her fumbling hands.

"So..." Jim started. Pam lifted her head. "Um, sorry for asking you to meet here, especially on a weekend."

Pam laughed nervously, "It's fine, Dunder-Mifflin is my second home, whether I like it or not."

Jim smiled, and Pam couldn't help but look at the box on his desk again. At least he's saying goodbye this time, she thought.

"So here goes," Jim said softly. "I guess I'll start off with I'm sorry."

"Okay," Pam said with a nod.

"‘Okay'? You don't want to know what I'm sorry about?" Jim said with a bit of a smirk.

Despite her best efforts, Pam felt her mouth twist into a smile, "Okay, James Halpert, for what misdeed are you apologizing?"

They both chuckled before Jim locked eyes with her, his expression serious as well as sad. "You were right, things are weird between us, and I'm sorry for letting it get that way."

Pam's breath quickened, "That's just as much my fault -"

"But I certainly haven't helped things," Jim said, shaking his head. He looked down, "I'm sorry I didn't go to your art show."

Pam wanted to laugh; she had almost forgotten the art show part of her speech. "I understand why you didn't come. I'm not upset with you about that." She shrugged, "You didn't really miss much anyway."

"Are you going to let me apologize or what?" Jim said in a play-annoyed tone.

Pam waved her hands, "Okay, okay, I'll stop interrupting." She laced her fingers together. "Proceed."

"That's better," Jim said, looking at Pam with narrowed eyes. Pam stifled a laugh, and the serious look returned to Jim's face. "But really, it was important to you, and I should have been there to support you."

Pam nodded.

"I'm sorry I blew you off in the break room after the whole Roy attacking thing. I just, I think about the way I've been treating you the last three months or so, and I'm not very proud of it, and I'm sorry."

"Okay," Pam said. She twisted her fingers and glance at Jim's old desk, rembering how softly he asked if she was still marrying Roy and how reluctantly they let go of each other hands. "There are more than a few things I've done in the past year that I'm not very proud of either." She watched Jim bite his lip, and she took a deep breath, "Especially what I said on Casino Night."

Jim continued to look her in the eyes, despite his shaking hands than he eventually shoved in his pockets.

"Jim," Pam didn't even try to hide her trembling chin, "what I said about you misinterpreting things was...I shouldn't have said it and I'm sorry."

Jim pressed his lips together and started shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Okay," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. He turned to his desk, and Pam wiped her eyes. She knew that apology would be "too little, too late" but she wanted to say it, and she felt better for it.

She looked down at her hands and Jim turned back to her, holding the box of things from his desk. "So, I asked to meet here because I wanted you to be here when I did this," he said.

Pam's vision was blurry, and she grabbed her sides to try to stop shaking. She tried to look at Jim, but it was too hard, so she looked down at her feet until she heard a "plop" and the sound of things knocking into each other. She looked up to see Jim had placed the box on his old desk.