She watches him make his way over to the couch.  He looks absolutely stunned, dazed like someone who’s just been through an earthquake or something. 

The comparison strikes her as fitting, because in a way, they have been through an earthquake.  When they were in Jim’s bedroom earlier tonight it certainly felt as though the very ground beneath their feet was trembling.  They have pulled and tugged each other, been tossed around by circumstance, and just now it seems like everything has come to an abrupt halt.  At this point they’re tiptoeing around gingerly, waiting for the dust to settle, trying to figure out what the damage is and how to rebuild.

She’s so caught up in her own extended metaphor that she barely notices when he takes a seat next to her on the couch.  In fact, she doesn’t look at him until he speaks.

“You look… very good wearing my clothes,” he says in a voice that she’s never heard from Jim before. 

It’s almost like his regular work-time voice, all fun and teasing, but there’s something else there, something that makes her cheeks burn.  His voice is sort of grumbly, if that makes any sense, and his eyes don’t stay on hers, which is new.  For a moment his eyes make a blatant sweep of her body, which makes her heart jump. 

His eyes don’t linger; they meet hers soon enough, but she’s suddenly hyperaware of the fact that his T-shirt is actually pretty thin and the sweatpants are way too loose to be safe.

“Oh, yeah? You think I should make this a regular thing?” she asks, trying to keep her tone light. 

 It’s only once it’s out of her mouth that she realizes that it sounded pretty suggestive.  He smiles at her with a little questioning squint, as though she just asked him whether he thought breathing was a good idea. 

“Is that even a question?” he asks.

 There’s that damn voice again.  It’s amazing.   

“Yeah?  Just throw on one of your ties and buttons-downs and a pair of your slacks for work on Monday?” she asks, again trying to steer the conversation back to safe ground.

Jim’s smile grows and his forehead does that wrinkly thing it does when he raises his eyebrows.

“Absolutely,” he says.

“Okay,” Pam replies, nodding as though of course she’s going to do that on Monday. 

“You know, I think you’d look good in some of my stuff,” she adds helpfully.

Jim doesn’t miss a beat.

“I’m so glad you said that, because you have this brown skirt that I’ve been meaning to ask you if I could borrow.”

She lets out a laugh as she exhales and shakes her head.  Because they can still do this.  She was afraid for a moment that Jim’s new sexy voice was going to make their usual banter impossible, but it’s back.

Then suddenly he takes her hand and the laughter dies on her lips.

She tries to keep the anxiety off her face when she looks at him.  The reason for their move to the couch comes back to her. 

They’re really doing this.  This is the talk. 

She takes a deep, slow breath in and carefully lets it out, steeling herself for the conversation.

“This is big,” she says quietly.

“Yeah,” he exhales.

“No, I mean, this... is huge,” she reiterates, trying to communicate just what this moment is to her.

“I know,” he tells her, smiling.

Smiling? 

 Oh.   

Of course he’s smiling.  This moment is big for him in a totally different way.

She knows he’s probably feeling happy and scared.  Happy to be here with her, and scared because everything is changing and he doesn’t want to screw it all up.

She feels the same, but there is so much else mixing with that happy-scared feeling.

She has a vague feeling of loss, like a kind of grieving, because she’s saying goodbye to a lot.  She feels sort of detached from reality, because it’s not actually done yet.  Roy has no idea that she’s made this enormous decision that affects the rest of both of their lives. 

But she also feels like this is all a little surreal because… she’s only ever been with Roy.  Her entire adult life and much of her adolescence was spent with him, and if she throws that all away, what do those years mean anymore?

“This is me saying that the last 10 years of my life were a mistake,” she says.

Jim stops smiling immediately and he opens his mouth, but seems to be at a loss for the right thing to say.  She looks away, down at the hand that he’s still holding.  They just sit there for a minute and she feels terrible, because this feels all wrong.  Jim gets her better than anyone, but they’re sitting on the same sofa, holding hands, and she feels miles away from him.

A single word from him brings her back to the present.

“No,” she hears him say.

She manages to tear her eyes away from their clasped hands and meet his stare.  He looks suddenly sure of himself.

“This is you saying that you aren’t going to let the next 10, or 20, or however many years be a mistake,” he says firmly.

She feels unshed tears flood her eyes immediately, because of course he has found the perfect thing to say.  It’s so important for him not to think that she threw away those ten years with Roy, and she’s not quite sure why, and he somehow gets it without her having to say anything. 

She nods and fights hard to keep any of the tears from falling.

“Yeah,” she says.

When she’s sure she isn’t going to cry, she continues.

“I couldn’t tell him over the phone,” she explains.  He hasn’t asked, but she wants him to know. 

“Actually, I didn’t totally know I what I was going to decide until right after we hung up,” she admits.

“What finally made you decide?” he asks gently.

 Good question.  She doesn’t know quite how to explain, so instead she says, 

“I want to live in a house with a terrace.”

He must think she’s crazy, but he doesn’t say so.  Just looks a little confused when he nods.

“Okay,” he says, waiting for her to continue.

“Not a veranda or a wrap-around porch.  A terrace.  On the upper level, coming off my bedroom.”

She waits but he’s still waiting or her to explain herself.  She doesn’t want to explain.  She wants his honest reaction without her having to tell him she’s comparing his reaction to Roy’s.  So she watches and waits.

He may not be saying anything, but she studies his face.  Not a hint of a smile.  He seems confused, but not annoyed or amused.  He’s not laughing.  Still, as the silence continues she can’t help feeling dumb for bringing it up.

“I know it’s stupid.  They don’t even make houses with terraces in Scranton,” she says dismissively.

Now he frowns.

“It’s not stupid.  We could just call a contractor,” he says matter-of-factly.

She should be focusing on the fact that not only did he not laugh, but also he actually supports the terrace plan, but instead all she can think is…

 Oh my god, did he just say ‘we’?! He apparently realizes what he said about a second after she does, because suddenly he’s backpedaling. 

“I mean, you could,” he says hastily.  “You could just call a contractor.

 Watching him panic like that makes her smiles because he’s just… so perfect.  Jim doesn’t seem to notice though, because he continues to ramble.  

“I mean, it can’t be too hard, right?  Some plywood, some nails… maybe some nuts and bolts…”

He trails off when he notices that she’s shaking with silent giggles.

“You’re very handy, aren’t you?” she teases.

He looks momentarily flustered, but quickly recovers.

“Did my extensive knowledge of construction tools tip you off?” he asks.

Pam nods.

“Well, I don’t usually like to brag about that sort of thing, but yes.  I am extremely butch and manly,” he admits.  “Last week I put together a CD rack all by myself, and I only lost three necessary pieces.”

Pam tilts her head.

“Is it that slightly crooked CD rack over there?” she asks, gesturing to the corner of the room.

“…Yep,” Jim says sheepishly.

She grins at him, when suddenly a very important thought occurs to her.

“Katy!” she blurts out.

“What?” Jim asks.

“You’re dating Katy,” Pam says, as if she is pointing out a previously unknown fact.

“It’s not serious,” Jim says immediately.  “In fact, I can end it tonight if you want.”

He lets go of her hand and reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cell phone.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Pam asks, resting her hand on his forearm.

Jim looks at her like she’s insane.

“I’m going to break up with Katy,” he states simply.

“You’re going to call her up and tell her over the phone?” Pam demands.

 Jim frowns. 

“No…” Jim says slowly.  Then, very quietly he adds, “I was going to text her.” 

“Jim!” Pam shouts. 

“What?” Jim asks, putting his hands up in surrender. 

“You’ve been dating her for like… four months!” she replies. 

“I told you it wasn’t serious.  It was like… we’d maybe go out once a week.  Maybe,” he protests. 

She gives him a look that is meant to communicate extreme disapproval. 

“So I’m guessing email is out as well?” he asks. 

“Jim!” she warns. 

“I’m kidding!” he recants.  “But seriously, the thing with Katy was… it was just a distraction.  I always knew it wouldn’t work out.” 

“Because she’s so unattractive?” Pam suggests. 

Jim lets out a small, surprised laugh. 

“Yes,” he agrees.  “And also because last month she wanted to see The Dukes of Hazzard.” 

Pam’s eyes get impossibly wide. 

“And in June it was Must Love Dogs,” he adds. 

“Oh, Jim,” Pam sighs. 

She shakes her head lightly to express her sympathy.  He milks it, giving her puppy dog eyes, which just about kills her.   She sighs and scoots a little closer to him. 

Casually, like they’ve done this a million times, he puts an arm around her and a second later she’s tucked into the crook between his chest and his arm, her head resting peacefully on below his neck. 

She wants to enjoy the moment, but instead she finds herself wondering how many times he and Katy sat like this. 

Stop it.  It doesn’t matter. 

But for some reason, it does.  She was so jealous of Katy.  From the moment that girl stepped into the office.  And every time she called to speak to Jim.  And when they were leaving for the day and Pam casually asked him what he was doing after work and he say he had a date.  She explained it away at the time as not wanting to share her best friend. Platonic jealousy.  It was how she could go home to Roy at night and not feel too guilty.   

Thinking of Roy again makes her stomach flip.  Without realizing what she’s doing, she starts playing with her engagement ring, spinning it around and teasing it up from the base of her finger, down to her knuckle, and back up again. 

It’s Jim who alerts her to her activity.  He lowers his index finger and lightly touches the small diamond.  She freezes as he gently pulls her right hand away and holds it in his own.  They both stare at the ring.

“He bought it at Sears,” she says.  “Six months after he proposed.”

She lets out a quiet, bitter laugh.

“And I paid half,” she adds in a mumble.

She buries her face in his shirt and feels him lean forward.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jim whispers, and she can feel his breath on her ear.

She still feels like an idiot.  She has a lot of affection for Roy still, because he wasn’t all bad and they’ve been through a lot together.  She will always have a special connection with him. 

But how could she have ignored so much?  How could she let so much slide?  Maybe it was just simply that it wasn’t completely terrible.  He wasn’t abusive or cruel.  He just wasn’t right.

Slowly, she removes her right hand from his and reaches back to the ring.  Grasping on tightly with her thumb and index fingers, she begins easing it down to the tip of her finger.  They are both watching the ring’s progress down her finger and thinking the same thing:  It feels almost impossible that she’s taking it off for good. 

She hesitates when the gold band comes to her fingertip.  She suddenly feels as though that she can’t possibly move it any further.  Something has stilled her hand, and she can’t bring herself to take it all the way off.

Suddenly his lips are on her neck. 

She gasps and rolls her head back onto his chest, baring more of her neck to him.  His lips travel from the space right below her each down along her neck to her clavicle.  She can’t believe this is happening.

Oh god.

His tongue darts out for just a second, and she forgets that she’s holding a ring at all.  She reaches her right hand up to cup the side of his face, pulling him up to meet her lips.  She doesn’t notice when the small gold circle lands in her lap, or when she shifts so that she has better access to his mouth and it falls to the floor.

It’s only when he grabs her left hand that she remembers, and she breaks away from him abruptly.  She panics for a moment when she realizes that she doesn’t know where the ring went.  It’s Jim who points it out to her.  It has rolled just under the coffee table.

She pulls away from him and picks it up.

“I have to have it to give to him tomorrow,” she says hastily.

She can’t stop herself from staring at it again, because it’s the symbol of everything she’s letting go of.  She stares at the tiny diamond.  A fifth of a karat.  She told Roy that she didn’t really care about the ring, and as soon as he heard that he picked out the smallest solitaire he could find.

She shakes her head again, because really, how could she be so blind?

“Hey.”

His voice prompts her to look up at him.  She fears that he is going to say something about the ring.  Some dig at Roy for getting her something this chintzy.  She really can’t take that right now.  She doesn’t want to be told that she’s wasted the last ten years.

“You are not stupid for having loved him,” he says firmly.

“How did you—”

She breaks off, unable to complete the thought.  She tears up again, which she hates because she’s normally not this girly.  But how did he know?  How does he always say the right thing?

“He just… he just didn’t get you, Pam,” he continues.

She can tell he wants to say more, but she’s thankful that he doesn’t.  She sniffles once, and regains her composure.

“Yeah.  Well, you were totally stupid for dating Katy,” she quips.

He does his usual thin-lipped smile, eyes wide.

“Oh, really?” he asks.

“Yeah.  So wrong for each other,” she continues, smirking at him.

“Yeah?” he prompts, like he’s hearing something surprising and eye-opening.

“Totally.  She’s the cheerleader type, Jim,” Pam replies matter-of-factly.

Jim laughs.

“Oh, come on,” he says incredulously.

Pam raises her eyebrows at him, posing the challenge.

“Ask her tomorrow.  I’ll bet you anything she was a cheerleader in high school,” she suggests boldly.

He gives her a look that clearly suggests he thinks her idea is a joke.

“How would that work?” he inquires skeptically.  “Hi, Katy.  Listen, um, we’re going to have to break up.  See, I’m dating Pam now.  You know Pam, right?  Beesly.  Yeah, the receptionist, that’s the one.  So, have a nice life, I guess.  Oh!  And, by the way, did you cheerlead in high school?  What’s that?  Fuck off and die?  Okay then.  See you around.”

Pam rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide her smile.

“Okay, fine.  Don’t ask her,” she concedes.

“What do you have against cheerleaders anyways, Beesly?” Jim asks.  “All they do is spread cheer.  It’s in their name.”

“That’s not all they spread,” Pam mutters.

Jim’s eyes meet his hairline.

“Whoa!” he exclaims, grinning widely.

“Oh… I said that out loud,” Pam muses. 

Jim cocks his head to the side and gives her a look, so she begrudgingly continues.

“I guess the problem was who she was spreading her cheer for.”

“Oooh.  So you were jealous?” he smirks.

She feels her face and neck grow hot.

“Like you weren’t,” she challenges.

“Of course I was.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that she sits there speechless for a second.  It shocks her just how open he is with it now.  Why does she still get red and panicked about admitting her feelings and he can just say it? 

Then it occurs to her that they really haven’t talked about their… relationship?  God, it sounds so weird to think of them that way.

“This is sort of weird,” she reflects aloud.

“Yeah,” he says unthinkingly.  Then he seems to realize what he just agreed to because he adds, “Wait, what?”

“I mean… I haven’t actually even said it to you,” she explains.

“Said what?” he asks.

She checks his face to see if he’s just teasing her again, but he honestly doesn’t seem to know what she’s talking about.

“You know, that I… that… I like you that way.”

As soon as it comes out, she curses herself because it sounds so ridiculous.

“Pam,” Jim begins, his voice very serious.  She turns to look at him.

“Do you like me, like me?” he asks.

Her face is hot again.

“I hate you,” she replies.

“Wait, I want to send you a note.  You can just circle yes, no, or maybe.”

He reaches out for something to write on and grabs her drawing of Angela.  She slaps his hand.

“Don’t you dare deface my art!” she warns him.

Jim drops the drawing and backs away from her a little.

“Whoa.  Violent.  What exactly am I getting myself into here?” he says mockingly.  “I feel a unsafe in my own home.  I might need to—”

Pam doesn’t ever find out what Jim might have needed to do, because she cuts him off with a kiss.  It’s sweet and lingering, and his hands come up to rest in her hair halfway through.  She grins as their lips part, and rather than pull completely away from each other, he sort of buries his face in her hair.

“I am so in love with you,” he sighs happily.

-------------------------------------------

 He knows immediately that something is wrong.  Whereas a moment before she was smiling and gently gripping his shoulders, now she’s tense and motionless in his arms.  He pulls pack to look at her, and her expression is one of utter shock. 

“What did you say?” she asks in a whisper.