-
Weddings were supposed to be happy. When she was a girl, she used to look through her mother's wedding album with wide eyes, envisioning the perfect dress and the perfect husband for her own perfect wedding day. She would dress her dolls in white frills, pairing them with generic fiancées and marching them down an aisle of teddy bears and action figures. She'd think of the most romantic, lofty vows for them to recite, binding them together to in a plastic dream house until the end of her youth.
In real life, Pam hasn't had the same luck with weddings.
It felt like ages before her time had come. She'd waited years for Roy to propose, and a few more to actually see an end in sight. Even if it was far from the perfection she always imagined, it still clouded her thoughts like a dream. She planned everything down to a t, trying hard to make it special enough to justify the extended engagement. Roy stayed on the sidelines, doing little to aid her, but she was so enveloped in picking the flowers from their prom and getting "their song" for their first dance as man and wife that she had no time to be agitated. Her thoughts never drifted to the next morning, or after the honeymoon, or where she'd find herself in the next year. It was all too unreal.
And maybe that was one of many warnings she'd spent years ignoring.
What did feel real was a moment of truth in a dark parking lot, a leap of faith by a dimly lit office desk. The feeling of his lips and his hands and his hope. It took that much to make her see what she could have . . . and just as much to lose it all with two words and one nod.
I can't.
This wedding is supposed to be hers. Those are her flowers, her monograms, even her dress. Phyllis has Pam's special day wrapped in a Vance refrigeration bow. She isn't jealous of the attention the bride was recieving; she's mostly disheartened that a day planned so carefully and thoughtfully for her and Roy was being recycled by someone else. She guesses this is just a sign; she and Roy are officially a thing of the past.
He remembers that these were their flowers, in a dance hall of years past. But he doesn't know that this is essentially their wedding. The only thing surprising her is the gleam of regret in his face. She's only seen that twice, and the other time was when she broke him.
While all eyes have been on the bride and groom, Pam is stealing glances at someone else. Karen dances like no one's watching. She's confident, headstrong, and everything Pam feels like she isn't. Karen isn't keeping to herself at her table all night, timidly watching everyone else from the safety of the sidelines. As much as it hurts to consider, she can see why Jim might like Karen.
For what feels like the hundredth time in recent history, she regrets the decisions she's made. She's broken two hearts in her lifetime, and the irony was staring her in the face. The one she'd left seems to be begging to be let back in, but the one she wants has someone else. The game is flipped, and she realizes just how Jim must have felt on Casino Night.
Only she hasn't taken a chance on him, and he's never known.
Now Karen's dancing with other people, and Pam catches him alone at the bar. She takes a deep breath.
"When are we gonna see some of those famous Beesly dance moves?"
She notices that she's been keeping track of how many times he's called her that since returning from Stamford. It's a shockingly low number, but hearing it still makes her smile. The Jim she knows is still in there, somewhere.
"I'm pacing myself."
She's playing along, trying to hold onto the few threads that connect them to a simpler time. She hopes that he can't see through her, but a part of her wonders what might happen if he does. She likes to think it would change things, but at this point, she doubts it would.
"No, I'm such a dorky dancer."
"I know, and it's very cute."
She looks at him abruptly, and her smile is still honest. She doesn't have to pretend too hard.
Just as she's feeling a little comfortable, and she thinks they might be falling into normalcy, he excuses himself. Her eyes linger as he rejoins Karen. His girlfriend. And she's just Pam, the friend, if she can still consider herself that.
She feels so ridiculously masochistic, but she can't take her eyes off them. Karen seems so at peace in the relationship, and it hurts to see Jim with his arms around her, swaying gently and laughing at something she's saying. Swaying isn't dancing. Except that maybe it is. Was. Whatever.
His eye catches hers in the most absurd of moments. She tries to dare him with her stare, tries to communicate things she can't say, but it doesn't last. She doesn't like him looking at her when he's dancing with someone else. It isn't right.
It's suddenly very hot, and she wants him to stop. She feels him watching her as she leaves, but she ignores it and gets a drink, wagering that she should remain in the corner for the rest of the night. It's too dangerous on the floor.
Kevin's band begins singing a familiar song, and it startles her. This isn't the Police. But it brings back a sense of nostalgia that she hasn't felt in a long time, and before she knows it, Roy's next to her. They're talking and she's comforted that it's so easy.
And suddenly, Jim's not the only one stopping her in her tracks tonight. She finds her hand in Roy's warm grasp, reminding her of all the reasons she fell in love with him so many years ago. He asks her to dance, and she decides that it can't hurt. She likes the feeling of actually being needed. But just as she's about to lose herself to the safety and familiarity of being in his arms, she begins thinking clearly.
"Do you want to get out of here?" he asks.
She looks up at him, and it breaks her heart. He wants another chance. But she can't; they're not the same people they once were.
"Roy . . . I'm sorry."
It's all she has to say, and he knows.
"Pammy, don't I deserve another chance? We spent ten years together, what's one more day to try and change your mind?"
"It won't change things, Roy," she says sternly, though it kills her to turn him down. She can't do this again, not to Roy or herself.
He nods in submission. As they hug, she buries her face in his shoulder and hopes that he finds someone someday. He deserves that much. She keeps an eye on him until he retreats to his truck and pulls out of the parking lot.
And then she sits.
Everything was so messed up now. Roy was so gentle, so thoughtful tonight. Jim's attention is elsewhere. Her world has been turned backward in such a short amount of time, and it isn't fair. She knows she'll always love Roy, but she isn't in love with him anymore. But the man she's in love with has moved on.
She forgets about smudging her makeup and lets herself loose. She cries for Roy, and the memory of a yesteryear full of high school dances and broken promises and the love between two people that are so wrong for each other. She cries for Jim, the man she turned down right before she needed him most. And she cries for herself, mixed up in these failed relationships that only show her every wrong decision she's ever made.
She feels a warm hand on her shoulder, and she somehow knows it's him. But she doesn't know why.
Quickly, his hand is gone and he's sitting down next to her. She wipes her face and glances sideways at him. His eyes are on the stars, and she can tell his mind is hard at work from watching him at his desk so many years. She looks at her hands in her lap.
"Pam."
She can't get herself to look again. She doesn't know where he's going, but she already aches, and this is all frightening her.
"I'm sorry," his voice chokes.
There are a million possibilities in her head for what he might be sorry for, but she can't get herself to believe any of them. The enigma hangs in the air before them, covering the rest of the wedding in a thick mist that she can't see through. She has to get to the other end; she has to jump.
"What for?" she asks. Maybe she knows, but she wants to hear it. She needs to.
"Everything, I guess," he answers, but it's followed by a spiteful laugh. "I don't even know. For leaving, maybe. For bringing a new life back with me."
"I don't fit in it," she finds herself saying. She isn't in control of her words anymore, but saying them is taking a weight off her chest. She starts to feel lightheaded. "Jim, it's like you're a different person. It's not the same."
"I'm sorry," is all he can say, and it comes out a whisper.
"Me too."
They sit in silence. She isn't really thinking of anything now. She's just here, in the moment, letting things play out. Another tear slips down her cheek. She can hear him breathing, slow and steady, regretful and heavy. Then he stops a moment and takes her hand.
She finally lets herself look into his eyes again. They're glossy and red, and seeing him this way brings her right down with him.
"Why can't this be easy?" she asks.
"It never really was, was it?"
She nods and rests her head on his shoulder. He smells clean, like soap, and she inhales deeply.
"I miss you."
It's mumbled into his suit, and she thinks he might not have heard her. But soon enough, his arm is around her back, and his breath is on her ear.
"Me too," he murmurs.
Some weddings are happy. Some bring tears to the eyes of the guests, some inevitably end in divorce, and some are canceled too early or too late. But some, she considers, are meant to teach something. These bring to light the things you've buried in the back of your mind and open your eyes to endless choices.
She doesn't know what lies ahead, or what she'll do if he goes back to Karen at the end of the night. But she doesn't care right now. He's there, and the wedding has turned out different than the ones she played in games of make-believe as a child.
The wedding she'd planned for her and Roy was nice. But maybe it wasn't theirs to begin with. They could never have a marriage.
She's not thinking about marrying Jim, and her thoughts aren't even on dating him.
But maybe this wedding was meant for them all along.
-
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Thanks SO MUCH to Becky215 for the betas and the title! Loves and hugs and stuffs.
Thanks SO MUCH to Becky215 for the betas and the title! Loves and hugs and stuffs.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I get writer's block for long periods of time, which is why I have yet to add to "Truth is a Whisper". Buttt I always get out of slumps with one-shots, so hopefully I can get back into my groove now. But this little fic was fighting to get out because of a recent, random obsession with Phyllis's Wedding.
Chapter End Notes:
Reviews are low in fat and provide many dietary supplements.
flonkerton is the author of 8 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 4 members. Members who liked Something Borrowed, Something Blue also liked 1793 other stories.
