Tonight was it. Pam had called him after lunch and asked if he had anything planned for the evening- she wanted to get a babysitter for the kids so they could have some time alone.

Jim had agreed, his heart sinking like a drowning man.

He got nothing accomplished for the rest of the day. He suspected that he had accidentally sold Dr. Schriber's office pink card stock instead of normal office paper, but otherwise, nothing. He thought about calling her back to cancel. He thought about going into Michael's office and inviting him to "just drop by" tonight. He thought about where he would go when she asked him to leave.

He couldn't pretend to be surprised.

Since their second child, Jamie, had been born two years prior, things had been strained between them. Somehow having two kids was more than just one extra mouth to feed or one extra story at bedtime- it felt like neither of them ever had two minutes to themselves, not to mention time for each other. Jim couldn't remember the last time they'd called a babysitter- he wondered fleetingly who Pam had asked. Pam's career was flourishing; she'd been promoted, working as the Executive Assistant to the Vice Provost. Jim's work was going well, too. Dunder Mifflin Scranton was officially the top branch of the company for the third year in a row, and healthy commission checks were rolling in every quarter. Between work and the kids, Jim knew he should be grateful for all the good things in his life. But when he looked across the kitchen table at Pam and couldn't tell what she was thinking or feeling, he didn't feel grateful. He felt lost.

And tonight she wanted to be alone to talk. Tonight was it. Jim thought he might throw up.

He arrived at home at 5:25. He usually made it by 5:15, but he had had a hard time making himself leave the office, despite Dwight's persistent questions about his health and mental state. Entering the house, he scooped Lucy up into his arms and squeezed her gently. "How's Daddy's muffin today?" he asked her, wondering if she'd miss him in the morning.

"We're going to Nana's house so you and Mommy can do grown-up things," she said with typical five-year-old wisdom. At one time he'd have laughed at the implication there, but instead he just kissed her gently on the forehead and set her back down.

"Hey." Pam had appeared in the kitchen hallway. She was dressed in one of her most flattering work outfits- a brown pantsuit with pink and cream pinstripes and a cream top underneath. Jim remembered when she bought it- she'd been thrilled to find it on sale at TJ Maxx for only $75. Her hair was tightly tied back into a neat bun. She looked fit, beautiful, professional, competent, and utterly inscrutable. He nodded at her. "Hi," he said.

"Listen, can you drop the kids off at your mom's? I have a few things to do around here before we...well, before you get back." She didn't meet his eyes. Nodding, he gathered the kids and took off. He wondered what she had told his mother.

*************

Jim took a deep breath and opened the front door. The house was very, very quiet. "Pam?" he called out into the silence.

"Hi," Pam answered quietly, walking down the steps toward him from the bedroom.

Jim's head jerked backward as though he'd been doused with cold water. The woman walking down into the living room might have been a ghost from the past. From seven years into their past, in fact. Pam's hair was loosely pulled back from her face, the rest of it hanging in long, soft curls in the back. No longer dressed in the stylish work suit, she was instead wearing a beautiful periwinkle dress in a shimmery fabric that rustled when touched. He remembered exactly how it sounded, how it felt.

"You- you changed," Jim said, barely above a whisper.

"Yes." Pam walked close to him, her voice equally quiet. "I thought...I thought I should."

"I didn't know you still had that dress."

She nodded, understanding the questions implicit in his statement: Why that dress? Why tonight? She replied, "I would never get rid of it. That night changed everything. As much as it hurt, it was our first real step toward each other." Her actions mirroring her words, Pam took a step toward Jim and took his hands in her own. "A lot of things have changed lately, but just because change hurts doesn't mean it won't work out." Tears pooled in Pam's eyes, but her voice was firm and her gaze never wavered from his own.

Jim took the first real breath he could remember in months. "You think we can work things out?" he asked cautiously.

Pam nodded. "I love you. And if we could come back from what happened the last time I wore this dress...then I think we'll be OK. I mean, if that's what you want."

A surge of old anger hit Jim. "If I want..? C'mon, Pam. This has always been your choice, you know that." He'd always wanted her, even when he'd tried to deny it. Even now, when he was the one making things hard, pushing her away, focusing on his work, resenting her success- deep down, he had always wanted her and was desperately afraid that she wouldn't want him.

Jim realized that he was still looking into her eyes, but suddenly Jim could read fear and confusion there. The fact that he could see it, could read her expression, was almost enough to make him weep in relief. He felt instantly ashamed of his pettiness just seconds before.

Pam saw his expression soften, and her own chin rose a little higher. The determination on her face was something he had grown accustomed to; it was amazing to remember a time before she'd learned to trust her own strength. "I choose you, Jim."

Immediately he had her in his arms. He'd been so afraid of losing her, he'd forgotten that he had the option to fight for her. Jim vowed softly in her ear to "make things better, make things right."

Pam pulled back and looked into his eyes, smiling softly. "Help me out of this dress?"

Jim was a little stunned. "Yeah. But- are you sure? You don't want to talk first, or--?"

Pam laughed slightly, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "I've had two kids since I've worn this dress, Jim. It is really uncomfortably tight. Can't we talk in sweat pants?"

Jim was happy to help her with her zipper.