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The forecast had called for a warm clear weekend, so tonight, he had opened his bedroom window to let in a slight breeze. As his eyes drooped a bit, he heard the vibration of his cell phone on his nightstand. Who would be calling him this time of night? It better not be Mark again, crying over Rebecca breaking up with him for the 3rd time this week.

He didn't bother to flip on the light, the illuminated screen from the phone casted a glow. As he watched the number flash in his eyes, his breath caught. No. No, no, no. Not after months of nothing. Months of bitter silence, months of waiting and wishing, months of giving up even when he didn't want to, but had to, because he couldn't cry anymore. That wasn't just months Jim...that was years.

He gripped the phone to his chest and slipped out the bed, walking out onto his balcony. He slid the door shut and closed his eyes for a second. The warm wind hit his face and finally he flipped open the phone.

"H-hello?"

A small gasp was heard on the other end. "Hello, Jim?"

He felt the lump grow bigger in his throat, he knew it was her because of the number, but for some reason the sound of her voice made his heart skip.

"Pam?" he barely whispered out.

"I'm sorry...I know it's really late...and I...I didn't mean to bother you. It's just that, there's a thunderstorm here."

He could hear his heart beating in his head as she spoke softly, almost like he was drunk or dying. Not that he knew what dying felt like, but he was sure it felt like this.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"There's a bad storm here, and um...well, I'm afraid of storms, and since this is the first time I've really been alone during one...I hope you don't mind. Maybe I shouldn't have called."

He shook his head even though she couldn't see him. "No, no...s'alright. Storms scare me too. I probably won't be a great comfort to you."

He didn't hear anything, he wondered if she hung up, maybe if she did it was for the best. But he heard her sniff. "You're a big comfort to me Jim."

"T-thanks. So, um...how are things?" Smooth Halpert, real smooth.

"Things are...things-SHIT!!" she shouted into the phone. He heard a loud crash and guessed that was thunder.

"PAM?! Is everything okay?!"

"Yeah. That was a big one. I'm sorry, I'm jumpy, I'm so scared. It's my biggest fear. Well second biggest."

He could almost envision her curled up in her bed, clutching the cell phone under her covers.

"It's okay."

"Yeah. When I was younger I used to sleep in my parent's room during storms. I could never be alone. I let that fear overtake me and sometimes I would promise myself I could handle it, I wouldn't run to my mom and dad, but I would always end up in their room before the storm was done," she spoke so softly, almost a whisper.

"You ever do the counting thing? I heard that works. Count the seconds between lightning and thunder." Jim replied, trying to fight back the want of driving straigh to Scranton. He glanced over at his open bedroom window, watching the curtains inside flutter from the wind.

"No I never thought of that. I'll try that."

"Yeah, storms aren't really that bad,actually. I'm no tree hugger but-"

"Course not, you sell paper, you advocate killing trees." she chuckled.

He couldn't help but laugh too. "Yeah I do, but what I meant was thunderstorms are good for the environment. They set the balance right again. It brings cleansing rains and thunderstorms happen because the atmosphere is unbalanced."

"You should have been a weatherman." she joked.

"Then who would sell paper?" he joked back.

Her laughing was like music to his ears and he sat in one of his patio chairs.

"You're right though..." she said, her tone serious.

"About what?"

"Storms bringing back balance. Once the storm is over, everything is fresh again. Everything is balanced again."

"Yeah."

"No, I mean, like my life. There was a storm, everyone was angry and everyone was hurt. My emotions were all screwed up and I didn't know where to turn. And you left and things got worse-" she started to choke.

"Pam, it's okay, it's-"

"I love you. I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I know. I- I love you too."

"Is it too late?"

Jim barely choked out. "It's never too late for you.

"Um...I have a art show coming up-"

"You do art?"

"Yeah, I take classes and this is my first showing. If- if you want to come-"

He closed his eyes and breathed so deeply his chest hurt. "Count on it."

She sighed, and he could tell she was smiling. "I miss you. Oh-!"

"What? Another thunderclap?"

"No, the thunderstorm is over here, it's probably moving your way soon."

Jim nodded. "Yeah."

"So I'll see you next weekend?"

"Of course."

"Jim?"

"I love you Pam."

"I love you too, good night."

Jim's heart swelled and he closed the phone, wiping a tear falling down his cheek. He looked out in the distance and saw darkened clouds. He walked back into the apartment and into his bedroom. Setting the phone down, he frowned, looking down at bed. Karen was sound asleep. He rubbed a hand over his face. A storm was coming, balance had been thrown off in Stamford tonight...in more ways than one.

"Fuck..." he whimpered.


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