‘That’s fuckin’ awesome.’ 

Pam didn’t lift her head at Roy’s cursing, sitting on the bench in front of their office building. 

Unworthy. Rejected. Not good enough. Failure. 

This was how she was supposed to feel — and, for sure, all these feelings would come to her later — but, for now, she was overwhelmed with almost palpable relief that made every cell if her body feel lighter and dizzier. It cost her a lot to keep herself from grinning, but the pang of guilt at the sights of Roy’s stupor and frustration helped her with it. 

The source of these controversial emotions was contained in the small red letters that crossed a page in her passport. 

‘How could you manage to get a rejection, Pam? It was a solid deal, and you failed it! I just… fuck!’ he was pacing back and forth before the bench, unable to hide his irritation. Today they both took a day off to get their visas; afterward, Roy planned them to quit. He received his visa quickly and left the consulate without Pam, to take care of documents without delay. And with Pam’s problem, his well-constructed plans started to crumble. 

‘I was told that unmarried women often got rejections,’ she said quietly. ‘Sometimes, even if they had invitations to visit the country. The foreign authorities try to prevent the cases when women come to the country to find a husband and get citizenship.’ 

‘And you couldn’t cheat a little? Like, saying that you are going to be married in a month or something?’ 

‘Do you really think that cheating during the interview could help me to get the visa?’ 

Roy huffed as if she annoyed him, and didn’t answer. Pam looked at him, having second thoughts about her own decisions. 

Because back then, during the interview, she had said that she had been single. She hadn’t even mentioned that — a bureaucratic looking woman had asked her, ‘Are you single?’ and Pam had nodded. She should have said that she had been engaged for three years, that she had been going to work abroad with her fiance, who had received his visa just half-hour ago; perhaps, she should have even shared her hopes and worries about the impending wedding. But Pam had just nodded, and the official had made a mark in her documents that, probably, had closed so many doors before her. Back then her nod had felt like an act of defiance, but now she thought it had been sabotage. 

‘What are we going to do now?’ Pam asked carefully. Roy stopped his passing and flopped on the seat near her. 

‘What can we do, Pam?’ he said. ‘In two years you can apply again and then you’ll move to me. I hope next time you’ll be smarter.’ 

Pam’s heart squeezed, and she turned to look at Roy, her eyes widened with disbelief. Was he really going?..

‘Are you still going to move?’ she asked, hoping that she’d just misheard him. ‘Even if I have to stay?’ 

‘I’ve got the visa, so yeah,’ he shrugged as if it was something self-evident. ‘Why should I turn that invitation down?’ 

‘Because I can’t go,’ she whispered, almost begging him to take pity on her, to comfort her. But instead, he looked at her with disapproval and sighed. 

‘And whose fault is that?’ 

So, Roy made his mind, and it felt like a slap. Once more, he chose something over her; she couldn’t stand another rejection from the man who was supposed to be The One.

Pam trembled, and it had nothing to do with the icy January wind. She was ready for his anger, his mocking, his disappointment; she got all of that, but the need for waiting again, after all of these years, was the final straw. Pam stared at Roy and pictures of her past, their shared history appeared brightly before her eyes. She had heard once that the person could see their life right before the death; she wondered if that was right about the relationships. 

She remembered how she had been waiting for him. Firstly, from the army, where he had been soldiering for a year — she had gone to her prom alone because he hadn’t been there for her, and only the thought of having another date had been considered as a sacrilege. Then, when she had been studying in the uni, and he had stayed at home, she had ditched all weekend plans with her friends — only to leave early on Friday and spend as much time as possible with him on the weekends. Later, when they had moved in together and had gotten engaged (he hadn’t even proposed to her, they had just agreed that it would have been proper to marry after her graduation), she had been waiting for the time when her patience with him would have paid off; she had been ready to put up with his inattention and rudeness only to fulfill her dream about one perfect love for the whole life. 

She remembered suddenly about her mother’s tea-set — cups, and saucers, and teapot of wonderful teal porcelain; it was the best part of her kitchen decoration, displayed behind the glass doors of the kitchen cabinet. But her mother never used it; she said she kept it for the special occasion and drank her tea from an old mug with a chipped edge, while the perfect teal tea-set was gathering dust behind the closed glass doors. 

Apparently, all this time, Pam was drinking from the mug with the chipped edge as well. 

‘Yours. It’s your fault, Roy. If we had gotten married, we wouldn’t have had this problem at all.’ 

‘Oh, so now it’s my fault!’ Roy’s mouth twitched. ‘And who nagged me about the big and fancy wedding, huh? Which we could afford only if we had better pay. And I did it, I found the better place, but now you still whine. What the hell, Pam? Have you ever been satisfied at all?’ 

Pam stood up on her slightly shaking legs and looked down at his face, reddened with anger. 

‘Roy, I wanted to have a big fancy wedding, yes, but even more, I wanted to be with you as your wife, not just as fiancée or girlfriend or something. And if you leave… if you leave me now for that job, I am not sure I’ll be waiting for you.’ 

She trembled as a sentenced to death, staying with a rope around the neck and waiting for mercy from the executor. Pam looked at her fiance, and her eyes begged him to say about his love for her, to give her another excuse for waiting, to give her a chance to forgive him once more. 

But his gaze was cast down, and it pulled a lever that opened a trapdoor under her feet. 

Pam exhaled with a loud whoosh. 

‘Okay,’ she said and took her ring off, placing it carefully on the bench near him. ‘I’ll take my things when I find another place.’ 

She turned to go away, but he got on his feet abruptly and grabbed her left arm, turning her to face him. 

‘We didn’t finish here!’ 

Pam didn’t register what happened next. She felt a twinge in her right hand; Roy’s grasp loosened, and Pam jerked, freeing her arm. The mark after her slap was discernible even on his red from shouting cheeks. 

If Pam was a cool girl, she would say something like ‘No, Roy. We are done.’ But instead, other words chimed in her mind, and they became louder and louder when Roy’s initial shock from her deed started to fade. 

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. What have I done? 

‘You, bitch…’ Roy started, and Pam knew it was time to flee. She moved back, making a few steps before turning around and going into the office building as if she could find a rescue there. Roy shouted something after her, but she could only hear the thumping of her heart. 

She practically ran up the stairs and stopped when she reached the floor of the office. Her thoughts were racing, fueled with adrenaline in her blood. Under her heavy winter coat, sweat rolled down her spine, but she was shivering as if she was cold. Had she really given him the engagement ring back? Had she really slapped him? What had gotten into her? And how would she manage to sort out all the mess she had created?

The only rational thought was that she couldn’t return home, not right now when Roy was so angry with her, not when she was so muzzy; in this state, she could do something she would regret afterward. So Pam took her phone and called Penny; Pam had nowhere to go and hoped that she could stay in her sister’s dorm for a while before she would take her life back in her hands and figure out what she had to do. Pam’s fingers shook violently as she pressed the buttons and brought the phone to her ear. She listened to the long rings, and at the same time — she listened for the sounds below, in case she had to run once more. 

Penny didn’t pick up. She had to have her lectures right now, and her mobile was muted, Pam told herself, dialing a second, third time nevertheless. Maybe, when she saw the number of missed calls, she would realize that it was something urgent and would call Pam back as soon as she could. 

The door to the staircase swung open, and Pam practically jumped at the sound; the phone slipped from her hand and fell, breaking into three parts. She turned her face to the door, terrified to see Roy there, but it was Jim, and she exhaled with relief. 

‘Pam?’ 

She didn’t answer immediately, kneeling to pick the pieces of the broken thing; Jim did the same as well, helping her. 

‘May I?’ he said, reaching out tentatively, and she put the parts of her phone into his hand. Jim fumbled with them a little and reassembled the device. 

‘Thanks,’ Pam whispered and took it back, turning the phone on and finding with alleviation that it was still working. 

They sat quietly on the step, their shoulders brushing lightly. Pam still couldn’t tame her trembling, and Jim noticed that. 

‘It isn’t about the phone, is it?’ he asked and she shook her head. 

‘I didn’t get the visa,’ Pam giggled almost hysterically. ‘I guess I’m stuck with Dunder Mifflin for a little longer.’ 

‘Oh,’ Jim said. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

But Pam knew he didn’t mean it; the echo of their yesterday’s quarrel still hung heavily between them. She giggled once more, being about to catch him in a lie, but her giggling ended abruptly with a sharp gasp when she heard a door a few floors below slamming with a great force. Pam flinched and stood up quickly. If Roy was climbing the stairs, she could exit through the office, and they wouldn’t meet. Of course, it meant to explain her sudden appearance to Michael and Dwight, but for now, she would rather deal with her boss than with Roy. Jim watched her with worry.

‘What’s going on, Pam?’ 

‘Roy… Roy didn’t react very well,’ Pam said reluctantly. She really didn’t want to involve Jim in all this mess. He didn’t deserve that. 

Pam saw as Jim’s jaw tensed, and he threw a gaze down the stairwell. 

‘Did he… did he hit you?’ Jim asked unexpectedly, and Pam looked at him with bewilderment. 

‘What? Oh, no, no, no. It’s… actually, it’s me,’ she chuckled. ‘I hit him. Kinda.’

‘Wow, Beesly,’ Jim looked at her, the corner of his mouth twitched as if he was going to smile but restrained himself. ‘I’ve never taken you for a violent one.’ 

‘Me neither,’ she sighed. There weren’t any other sounds from the stairwell, so the frantic rhythm of her heart calmed down a little. 

‘Do you have somewhere to stay?’ Jim asked then. 

‘Oh… well, I have a sister in the city, and I hope I could crash her couch in her dorm. I just need her to call me back.’ 

‘You know,’ Jim said carefully ‘you could always stay at mine. My roommate won’t be a problem, and you won’t have to deal with the dorm’s commandants.’

‘Are you sure it would be okay?’ Pam worried; today Jim looked tired and a little pale. ‘I don’t want to cause you any problems.’

‘Totally,’ Jim smiled. ‘And… what are you going to do now? I know it’s your day off, so…’ 

‘Well, it depends on who’s on the phones today?’ Pam smirked. 

‘Kelly. And I already know about Eurovision selections more than I’ve ever wanted,’ Jim shuddered in exaggerated disgust. Pam giggled. 

‘The more knowledge, the more grief, I get it. Well, let me put you out of your misery then. It’s the least I could do for you.’ 

Jim laughed and they returned into the office, where she received a warm welcome and gratitude from Kelly, who could return to the annex and chat with her friends not being distracted by the customers’ calls. Dwight looked at her with suspicion as she hung her coat on a rack and took her usual place. As soon as she did it, he strolled to her desk. 

‘Pamela,’ he started, narrowing his eyes at her. ‘You have a day off today. And still, you are here.’ 

‘That’s right, Dwight,’ Pam said patiently. ‘Is that a problem?’ 

‘It brings confusion into the organizational process of the workspace,’ he declared. ‘I prepared myself for the distraction level increase due to your absence, and now I have to rearrange my settings.’ 

Pam blinked. Jim caught her gaze and mouthed the word ‘robot.’ Pam stifled a giggle. 

‘If it’s such a problem, I’ll leave now,’ she suggested, and Dwight slightly winced. 

‘No need, I could cope with any unexpected turn of events,’ he said curtly. ‘And yet, why are you here? For your information, you won’t receive a payment for this day.’ 

‘Actually,’ Oscar chimed in, ‘that’s for Michael to decide. It won’t be an issue to rearrange the documents, it’s not even noon yet.’ 

‘Thank you, Oscar,’ said Pam; Oscar smiled and returned to his papers. Dwight just snorted and returned his attention to Pam. 

‘Wait a minute with your explanations,’ he said. ‘You’re dressed casual, your skirt is of an appropriate length, your blouse is plain with no noticeable cleavage. So, it wasn’t a romantic affair. Your boots are quite clean, despite the melting snow and puddles, and that means you didn’t go much on foot. Last time when you took a day off, your mother was sick. Your cheeks have an unhealthy shade of pink. So, I conclude your doctor’s appointment has been canceled.’ 

‘That’s right, Dwight,’ Pam said, not wanting to tell him about her morning turmoils. 

‘In that case, I hope it’s not something contagious. If you infect our coworkers, I’ll find a way to deduct the cost of possible damage to the company from your salary.’ 

He returned to his desk after that tirade, leaving Pam staring at him, amazed. A few moments later, Dwight found a paper clip chain in his mug, and the typical office routine was restored. 

The rest of the day passed without any incidents; every time the office door opened, Pam dreaded to see Roy there, but he didn't show up. In the middle of the day, Penny called back, and Pam hastily retold her about the morning happening. Of course, her sister said that Pam could rely on her and could stay as long as she needed, but Pam noticed a hint of reluctance in her voice. Pam promised herself not to involve her sister in her problems too much.

When the workday was over, she turned her computer off, ready to leave. Jim was already waiting for her.

'Let's go, Beesly.' 

They went through the park, and Pam wondered how surreal that felt. Just yesterday, she had been ready to say farewell to Jim and her lifestyle; and now, she was following the routine as if nothing had happened. Except, she was going to Jim's home, and, apparently, didn't have her own home at all. 

'So,' Jim said. 'How was it? Chuck Norris style or Bruce Lee style or Klitschko style or…'

'Oh my God, shut up!' exclaimed Pam, embarrassed. 

'What? I'm just curious,' Jim chuckled. 

'Curiosity killed the cat,' she warned. 'Do you want to be a test subject?'

'Nah, I'm good,' said Jim, and the conversation ceased. But this silence was warm and comfortable, unlike yesterday's one. Perhaps, she had to break it, to tell him everything, to bring yesterday's topic back; but she was too tired and didn't want to ruin that fragile peaceful state. She was sure Jim felt the same. 

They kept the silence while they rode the escalator; Pam noticed Jim's exhaustion in the bags under his eyes and the stubble on his chin and cheeks, though he masked his tiredness well with his grins and animated gestures. Her heart squeezed at that sight, and when the train arrived, she turned to him.

'Hey, maybe, you should take a seat as well?' 

Pam thought that he was about to decline, out of habit or something else, but then he shrugged and folded his lanky limbs on a seat near her, their shoulders and knees pressed together. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. 

Her hand automatically grabbed her phone, but she caught herself on time. Roy hadn't called her yet, and Pam wouldn't like to be the one to break the silence. She had done nothing wrong, she told herself; maybe, if she repeated that enough times, she would believe it. 

They both stood up at the next station, finding a place in the corner of the wagon; hands gripped the handhold tightly, bodies swayed in the rhythm of the train moving. The ghost station appearance was the sign that the next stop would have been hers to leave, that her little journey with Jim would have been over soon. But not today. 

'It's a little bit weird,' Pam said to Jim when the train stopped, and she didn't move from her spot. 

'Huh?' he didn't hear her, so she made a sign to him to lean closer. When Jim did that, she repeated. 

'I said it's weird. I got used to leaving at the same station and repeating the same route every day, so now I'm at a loss. I've never been at that part of the metro, so… what should I prepare for? Give me some hints.'

'Well,' he scratched his chin in amusement. 'Let me see. Metro rodents of unusual size, a secret military base underground, and don't forget about hidden cameras somewhere on the wagon ceilings.' 

Pam involuntary looked up — to Jim's delight — and snorted. 

'Hey! I almost believed you!'

'What? You asked, I answered.'

She just shook her head but kept grinning nevertheless. 

When they got off at Jim's station, for a few moments, Pam could only stare in awe, looking at neon lights and almost skyscrapers, tops of which got lost in the dark. 

'Wow,' she said at last. 'Why did you never tell me that you're living in a sci-fi movie?' 

Jim looked at her with a strange expression and shrugged. 

'Well, since the drivers of flying taxis announced a strike, I don't feel it anymore.' 

'What are their demands?' Pam asked with curiosity. 

'Oh, the usual. Taxes, traffic violation fines, pigeons.' 

It turned out, Jim lived in the highest building Pam had ever seen; she felt vertigo only looked on it outside. When Jim pressed the button '12' in the elevator (and it was just above the middle; the biggest number she could see on the button was ‘22’), she swore she would never approach the windows, not speaking about the balcony. 

'Okay,' said Jim a tad nervously, fumbling with keys as they stood before the door of his apartment. 'Maybe, this place isn't the fanciest, but I hope it would be comfortable enough for you.'

'Don't worry,' Pam smiled. 'Since it has a couch, everything will be fine.' 

Jim nodded and opened the door, stepping inside quickly and switching the light; Pam followed and found herself in a small hallway with three doors. 

'Mark isn't home yet,' Jim remarked, taking his coat off and helping Pam with hers. After offering Pam slippers ('ummm, the floor is rather cold') and pointing at the place where she could leave her bag, Jim suggested a quick house tour. Pam agreed with enthusiasm, probably, even excessive. 

Jim's place was… well, Pam honestly didn't know what to expect, but it was strangely empty. There was nothing on the cold wooden floor — neither a carpet nor a rug. The walls were painted white and almost screamed for decoration; the only thing that could be taken for it was a clock in the kitchen. She noticed bottles near the trash bin and raised her eyebrows, while Jim explained with obvious embarrassment that Mark could be a real pig sometimes; Pam chose not to elaborate. The hallway, the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom looked practically the same, the only differences were in the size and some furniture. It wasn't that Jim and his roommate were struggling — the couch in the living room, as well as the plasma TV and the video game console, looked quite expensive — but all of this gave Pam a sense that this place wasn't considered by Jim as a home — only as a temporary shelter. This feeling grew stronger when he showed her his room; the only personal thing in there was a guitar. 

'I didn't know you played,' Pam said, standing awkwardly at the entrance. 

'I did,' Jim scratched the back of his head. 'But I'm not sure if I could remember any chords now. Okay, let me find you something to change.' 

He turned his attention to his closet and, in a few minutes, found a needed garment. 

'Ta-da!' 

Pam took a black t-shirt with a print on the front side — the name of the band, apparently. 

'Nightwish?' she asked.

'They're probably not your style, but the vocalist is pretty awesome,' he said sheepishly.

Pam put the t-shirt’s shoulders to her own; the bottom edge reached her knees. 

'Did anyone tell you that you are freakishly tall?' she asked. 'It's practically a dress.' 

Jim smirked. 

'Well, when I was a little boy, I never skipped my breakfasts. So, do you want me to look for some sweatpants for you or you'll be fine with a belt? You know, for your new little black dress.' 

'Pants, please.' 

It was strange, so strange to sit on the chair in Jim's kitchen and to watch as he was cooking. Pam suggested making dinner, but Jim declined her offer, claiming that she was a guest. 

'I can't remember the last time someone made me dinner,' Pam said, watching as Jim boiled water to prepare ready-to-cook stuffed dumplings from the freezer and put a kettle on the stove. Jim pressed a hand to his chest and made a theatrical bow, and that made her smile. 

They ate dumplings with sour cream and drank tea; Jim didn't have a teapot and put a spoonful of tea leaves right into the mug, and Pam took a note to get him one (she just couldn’t stand such a savageness). The initial awkwardness she had felt was dissipated; she was having a good time with her best friend, and that felt awesome. 

She unsuccessfully tried to hide her yawn behind her hand, and Jim took it as a sign that it was time to go to sleep. He brought Pam an extra comforter, a sheet, and a pillow, and placed them on the edge of the couch. 

'Are you sure you don't want to switch?' he asked again. 'I'll be fine with a couch.' 

'No, you won't,' Pam didn't agree. 'Have you seen your limbs, Halpert? They won’t say 'thank you' in the morning.' 

'As you wish, Beesly,' he raised his hands in surrender. 'But, if you need anything — you know where to find me.' 

'Okay,' she said softly. 'Good night, Jim.'

'Sleep tight, Pam,' said Jim, and closed the door of his room. 

But once the light was turned off and Pam curled on the couch, sleep was elusive. The usual giddiness she felt around Jim started to wear down, and the heavy thoughts flooded her mind, keeping her wide awake. 

For sure, Roy was angry with her so much; she had never allowed herself to do something that could have been considered by him as disobedience or humiliation. And today she had done both. She had ruined his plans. She had slapped him. Oh, God. He wouldn't forgive her easily if he would even forgive her at all. Perhaps, if she begged him, if she did what he liked the most, he might… but Pam winced in disgust and wrapped herself in the soft fabric of the comforter tighter. It wouldn't happen again. Besides, what was the point if he didn't love her anymore? Of course, love wasn't the crucial element of the relationship; she knew so many families where love had ceased years ago, her own family was the best example of the loveless union. But knowing that she was loved could help her to humble her dissatisfaction with the lacks and misdeeds in her relationship with Roy; without that, she didn't have a reason to justify them. 

That realization made her weep a little. One of the things she could rely on in her life had been Roy's love, and now it turned out to be a self-deception. Pam tried to pinpoint the moment when the things between them had started to fall off, but couldn't. She also failed to bring back the time when butterflies in her stomach had turned into apathetic chrysalises and they — into caterpillars, wriggling in dread. Pam had clung to her dream so desperately that she hadn't noticed that it had turned into a nightmare. 

So, she was alone now. Roy had been the only reliable person in the big and scary city, and she had lost him, and with him — all the things she had gotten used to. Without him, there were only Penny and Jim, who could stand by her. But Penny was a poor student after all and needed support even more than her. And Jim… 

Pam smiled sadly. Jim was so great, and he had already done for her more than anyone else. And he treated her like an equal and not like just a nice girl, who could be easily discarded or taken for granted. Sometimes Pam thought that he saw in her more than she really was. What would he think of her when he realized what a mess she was in fact? Of course, he would pity her as a weak and confused woman she was, but their friendship would never be the same after that revelation. She would never involve Jim in her problems as well, Pam thought. She could live with Roy's anger, but wouldn’t be able to stand Jim's disappointment. 

The apartment was quiet — even too quiet; the kitchen clock’s ticking sounded like a drum rhythm. Pam didn't realize that her breathing was now matching the ticks and the tocks. She listened to the sound, breathed, and her crumpled thoughts little by little fell into place. 

She had to find her own apartment or, at least, a room. She had to find an additional job — without Roy's money, she basically couldn't afford to live in the city with the receptionist salary alone. She had… 

The flow of the thoughts was interrupted with a noise coming from the front door. Pam was lying on the couch, petrified, and pretended she was sleeping. The door opened with a loud thud, and she heard a female laugh before the light turned on. She did her best not to wince. 

'Oh, shit,' the female voice exclaimed quietly, and the light instantly turned off. 'There is someone sleeping on the couch!'

'On the couch? What, did Jim forget where his room is again?' the male voice — Mark's apparently — responded. 

'No, it's some girl.' 

'A girl?' she heard Mark chuckled softly. 'For the first time, Halpert brought a girl home, and he left her sleeping on the couch. Unbelievable.' 

Another woman giggled quietly, and Pam heard as they crossed the room and hid behind the door near Jim's. She exhaled then, embarrassed with the whole situation. Pam had a little time to ponder over the new piece of information about Jim’s guests (or, to be precise, about the lack of them), when some specific noises came out of Mark's room, and she felt as a blush crept up her cheeks and ears. Pam turned to face the wall, to ease a little her mortification, but it wouldn't help much. Later, the door opened again, and she heard as bare feet slapped on the floor. Another door slammed and the sound of running water muffled the ticking from the kitchen. In a few minutes, they returned to Mark's room, and everything was quiet again, but Pam, even being exhausted, couldn't make herself sleep. 

As soon as the darkness behind the window started to fade, Pam knew she had to leave; it was going to be a long, grueling day, and the sooner she started it, the sooner she could feel the ground under her feet again. She changed her clothes and folded the borrowed ones neatly, as well as the comforter and the sheet, and placed them on the edge of the couch. She was ready to go, but couldn't leave without a 'thank you', a 'goodbye'. She also needed someone to close the door.  

She tapped lightly on the door of Jim's room, but no one answered. 

'Jim?' she called him with a similar result. Pam took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. 

Jim was sleeping, wrapped in his blanket like a burrito; she could see only his head and the foot, peeking out from under the covers. Pam neared the bed and couldn't keep herself from smiling: sleeping Jim was adorable, with tousled hair, slightly opened mouth and nose, skewed a little on the side with a pillow. She hated herself a little for what she was going to do next. 

'Jim,' she whispered, but he didn't react. 

'Jim,' she repeated a tad louder and touched the blanket where his shoulder had to be. 

At her touch, he jerked unexpectedly and sat abruptly on his bed. At his movement, the blanket fell from his chest, and Pam looked hastily away, blushing; he wasn't a fan of wearing pajamas at all. 

'Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to scare you,' she apologized as he tried to focus his eyes on her. 

'Pam? What… what happened? What time is it?' he muttered, his voice hoarse from the sleep. 

'Um… I think it's quarter past eight,' Pam said, studying intently the blank wall. 'Could you lock the door behind me? I didn't want to leave it open, so…' 

'Wait, are you going to leave now?' he asked perplexedly. 

'Yeah. I have to,' Pam said. For a moment, they both were silent. 

'Hey, why don't you make yourself a cup of tea, and I'll join you in a few minutes,' Jim suggested suddenly. 

'Okay,' Pam agreed after a short consideration and left him alone. 

She had managed to boil water in the kettle and made two cups of tea, when Jim finally showed up, wearing his yesterday's clothes; his hair was still an adorable mess. He sat heavily on the chair and nodded gratefully when Pam held out a cup for him. 

'Thank you so much for allowing me to stay for the night,' she started. Jim looked at her with a slightly numb expression; obviously, he didn't wake up completely, and Pam felt another pang of guilt. 

'Don't mention it. You know,' he said carefully, 'you could stay as long as you need.' 

'Thank you,' Pam shook her head, 'but I can't. It will be awkward for all of us.' 

Jim mused over her answer. 

'If it's about Mark, I'll talk to him about being considerate.' 

Oh God, did he hear that too?

'Oh, no, no, no, that's totally fine,' Pam said quickly. 'It's just… remember what did you say? About ruling my own life and deciding for myself? It was really good advice. So, finding my own place would be the first step in my new independent life.' 

Jim was quiet, studying the inside of his mug. 

'And what will be your next step?' 

'I have no idea.'