v. Taste
The office is almost completely darkened when she opens the main door. There is a small light on near Pam’s desk but other than that, the only illumination in the room is coming from Dwight’s computer monitor. She enters slowly and watches as he stares down at his desktop, propping his head up on one hand and looking absolutely miserable. The room is so quiet she can hear the air conditioning.
As soon as she rounds the corner fully, Dwight sits up straight in shock. He looks utterly confused to be seeing her. She feels odd and out of place and finds that the only thing she can do is fiddle with the straps of her purse and stare at him dumbly. Finally, he manages to speak.
“Angela? What are you doing up here?” He is still sitting behind his desk and Angela can suddenly see what he has been staring down at. His Bobble-head doll. Her heart floods with emotion for him. She looks back up into his face and sees that his eyes are red and swollen. She nearly gasps. She had made him cry.
“I—“ She doesn’t really know what to say. Something had just told her that coming up here was the right decision. Just like she had known that getting married to Andy would be the wrong decision. Not when she still felt like this. Not when she’d always feel like this.
She sets her purse down in the chair outside Michael’s office and lets her hands hang uselessly at her sides for a moment, before pulling them up to cross in front of her chest. She has always been a woman who hates feeling uncomfortable and unsure of herself.
“What?” he prompts her. His voice is sort of gentle and sort of hard all at once but he is standing up and walking towards her. And then he is standing right in front of her and, just like always, it is just the two of them. With Andy there is always an audience—dozens of people looking at her like a fish in a bowl. With Dwight it is always just her and him and whatever they choose to make of a moment.
She looks him full in the face and lets him see that tears are swimming in her own eyes. He pulls back slightly in surprise. He has seen her cry before but it was always so rare that every time felt like the first time.
“I’m sorry,” she says at length. Her voice sounds small and fragile and Angela Martin has perhaps never felt more human than she does in this instant. The fact that she is apologizing is a small miracle and she thanks God for allowing this to happen. If she is going to apologize to anyone, it is going to be this irrepressible man. And then Dwight’s hands are coming up to rest on her arms and he looks so serious.
“What are you sorry for?” he asks. She doesn’t know whether he means that she has nothing to be sorry for or that she has multiple things worth apologizing about.
“I’m sorry I said yes. I didn’t really mean it but everything with us was just…broken. And Andy wasn’t broken and I just…” She doesn’t sound like herself. She is so used to knowing exactly how she feels and exactly what she wants. She is used to having utter control over her emotions and this just feels like a mess. A horrible, rotten mess that they have made for themselves. This night has been the most confusing she has ever lived.
“I understand why you said yes, Angela. We’ve…we haven’t been together for months. I hurt you very deeply. You should be happy,” he says and his voice sounds dry but honest. She looks up at him then and she knows. That’s what it is about him. No matter what he wants for himself, Dwight always, always, always wants her to be happy. That was why he had euthanized Sprinkles. That was why he had stood by and let her date Andy. That was why he had done so many stupid, small things for her that she couldn’t even count them all.
And then she is kissing him. It takes them both by surprise and a gasp of hot air passes between them. She’s missed this: touching him, tasting him, being with him in these special, private moments with only God knowing. Judging from his reaction, he has missed her too. He’s kissing her sloppy and happy and sad and confused and she’s spinning, spinning, spinning but this time she doesn’t feel nauseous. She feels exhilarated. Suddenly, he stops her.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice catching on a million emotions. She trails her hands across his chest, enjoying the sense memories evoked with such a simple gesture.
“You hurt me. I healed. And if you want me to be happy…you make me happy,” she says. He looks down at her hard and serious and so, so thoughtful.
“What about Andy?” The question seems to be ripped from him against his will.
“He’s…no Dwight Schrute,” she says honestly and a tiny smile crooks his mouth.
“Angela, infidelity is a sin,” he says, and she gulps. She stares up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. His computer monitor suddenly hibernates and his face becomes a shadow before her. Finally, she whispers her answer into the air.
“How can love be a sin?”
A sound escapes him. It sounds something like a sob and he pulls her to him. And all she can see and hear and smell and feel and taste is him.
// fin.
Chapter End Notes:
I had an absolute blast writing this, so I hope someone enjoys reading it! Getting in the heads of these characters was a nice challenge and I remain very intrigued by how Angela, Dwight and Andy spent their evening.
There There is the author of 1 other stories.
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