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Disclaimer: I own nobody. I receive no payment from this, other than the joy of hearing that someone read it and liked it (I hope!).
Pam had spent her entire first day back at work staring at the still empty desk that Jim had once occupied. It had been exactly one month since she'd last seen him; twenty days since she'd broken up with Roy; sixteen since the day she was supposed to have married him; two weeks since she'd been at work; and one week since she'd moved into her new apartment.

She'd been keeping track of it all because it was the only thing she felt that she had under control. The minutes ticked by each day, and the sun kept rising every morning. Everything besides that was just too unstable; too much like playing Jenga, right before you pull out that one piece that brings the whole tower tumbling down.

Every single day since Jim had confessed his love for her at the casino night had been the worst of her life. The two weeks he was still in Scranton had been silent and awkward and tense, with neither one of them knowing what to say or how to handle the aftermath of her confirming that she was indeed still planning to marry Roy. Jim didn't even tell her privately that he'd accepted a promotion and transfer to Stamford. Instead, he announced it quickly at the tail end of one of Michael's ridiculous meetings, conveniently only giving everyone a single day's notice of his imminent move.

He avoided her eyes as he stood in front of everyone in the conference room, and she felt the words like a punch in the gut, stealing her breath and bringing tears instantly to her eyes. She'd kept her head down, reminding herself to breathe in, breathe out, until finally everyone had exhausted their questions and began to leave the room. She made a hasty exit, uncaring of who took notice, or what they might say, and climbed the ladder to the roof to ensure complete privacy for the sobs that quickly escaped her throat. If she was honest with herself, she'd known something was coming. There was no way that they could maintain the status quo, and something would have to change - it was just a surprise that he was going so far away. She'd fleetingly and selfishly thought (hoped?) that he might quit Dunder Mifflin and work elsewhere in Scranton.

Pam had stayed up on that roof until well past five o'clock, uncaring of anything besides the fact that she was about to lose her best friend. But the thought kept circulating her brain that the only way to keep him was to give up her entire life with Roy, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing him too.

The next day had been as difficult as expected, watching silently as he cleared out his desk, packing only a few belongings into a Hammermill carton. Their co-workers had stopped by his desk at varying times to say goodbye in each of their strange and unique ways, but she remained steadfastly behind her desk, pretending to keep her eyes trained on an endless game of solitaire.

When he stood up to leave at four-thirty, she followed his every movement with her eyes, committing it all to memory. The way he so fluidly removed his suit jacket from his chair, swung it around his body and slipped his arms through the sleeves. The way he more often than not looped his messenger bag across his body rather than hanging it from one shoulder. The way he checked each of his drawers to make sure he hadn't missed anything, then, tucking the box under one arm, flicked the power button on his monitor and heaved a sigh - of what, she couldn't tell. He announced a general goodbye to his co-workers, offering them a tight, close-lipped smile and a single wave of his hand, turning to hurry out before Michael had a chance to leap out of his chair and chase after him. Finally, after two solid weeks of not a single glance from him, he let his eyes linger on her as he headed to the door, having to turn to look over his shoulder as he did so, an unreadable expression on his face.

In one of the most impulsive moments of her life, she leapt from her chair and went after him, with no idea what she would say or do. She just knew that she couldn't let him walk away without acknowledging… something.

He was waiting for the elevator when she stepped into the hallway, and he glanced up in surprise at her presence. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, and before she knew what she was doing, she was stepping inside with him. They both remained silent all the way to his car. Once he had stashed the box in the backseat, he turned to her expectantly. She wanted to hug him and never let go, but her fear kept her feet glued in place. Instead, she stuttered, wringing her hands together, "J-Jim…"

He shook his head immediately, not letting her continue. "There's nothing left to say."

She looked down at her feet, nodding slightly, hiding her glistening eyes from him.

She heard the door of his car click open, and looked up as soon as he said her name. "Pam? Do me one favor, ok?" She raised her eyebrows in question, and he continued, "Be happy?"

Her face crumpled at the sincerity of his tone, but he didn't see it as he hastily climbed into the car, started the engine and backed quickly out of the parking lot, apparently without a single glance backwards.

She stood in that spot, covering her eyes with one hand as she cried more tears than she thought she had left, her other arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

At that moment, she knew she'd made the wrong choice.
Chapter End Notes:
I'm posting this as a stand alone for now, but I do have plans to add to it and resolve the angst, so stay tuned.


PamelaJames is the author of 1 other stories.
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