The days slipped past quickly, merging fleshlessly into one. Days drowned like leaves in the ocean, there and gone without importance. Her Mom and Dad had gone back to their home with a promise to return before the sentencing hearing. And as the wind picked up and the nights drew in earlier, Pam grew increasingly anxious. She went about things as she always did, shower, eat, work, sleep with monotony. She ate little, she slept even less. Jim had taken to subtly nudging her out of the house with him, in the form of walks and night drives and even talked her into going on dates with him – forming an agreement between the two of them. One date night a week without exception, they pledged to each other and it was a commitment that Pam treasured deeply. Sometimes they dressed up and went for dinner, or went for an evening picnic or to a show. It was their alone night, and during the waiting period for the hearing, it was the one light Pam focused on during an otherwise dark time. She loved spending time with Jim alone, and they both found themselves becoming more at ease in just rediscovering themselves as Jim and Pam, and not simply witness one and witness two any longer. They made each other laugh; really laugh until they cried, they talked openly, they backed each other up in petty grievances at the office and against Dwight, and best of all, they were there for each other.

Still, Pam could not find herself able to laugh for very long until her thoughts again scraped up against the hard millstone of Roy and the potential outcome of his sentencing. She slept restlessly, watching the minutes trickle by and tried to keep the dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm her at bay. Sometimes still she woke up in a soupy haze and she would see him there, standing there at the foot of the bed. She would see him, climbing as black as a shadow through the window. He would be there, striding through the bedroom door as if he had every right in the world to. And when she woke during these night terrors, fear icing her veins and blood rushing in her ears, she would be astounded to see it was hours before morning. Sometimes she had only been asleep twenty minutes before waking up and seeing Roy enter the room. Only twenty minutes, yet to her it seemed like the whole night had passed.

Soon, the waiting would come to an end.

Soon they would know what the future held in store for them; if there was to be a close to the whole mess, a firm locked and bolted, unpickable door or if there would be enough leeway for Roy to drag it out into a credible appeal or an early release if indeed he was sentenced. The trouble was that she didn’t know and with not knowing her mind planted her in front of all kinds of terrible scenarios. She didn’t say any of this to Jim, yet she had a distinct suspicion he knew exactly where her thoughts were. It seemed to her that there was little as shameful as staying with a man who hurt and controlled her in the way she had allowed Roy to. She couldn’t deny that. A smaller part of herself still wished she could have been a better partner to Roy and not made him angry as often as she did – if she had just listened when he told her how important it was that she was there for him, how she could have avoided his anger if she had just acted differently, more considerately towards him. Another part of herself was slowly beginning to question things, ideas – faults – that she had had beaten in to her over the years. And it always came back to time. It would take time for her to heal, to change the mirrors Roy had installed in her head, time for her to accept, time for her to be ready, time for Roy to sit in jail. She wanted her life back. It was partly this urge that spurred her into going back to her apartment to go through some of the unpacked boxes strewn around.

It was like walking into a fragment of the past. A small, insignificant part of her past, covered with old sheets and dust and forgotten. The place that had been meant to be hers. Her banner to the world; look at me, I’m making it on my own, I’m doing it. I am free.

She hated the place. With the ugly jade walls and faded carpets and unfriendly neighbours. It was an unwelcoming place, a place with too many dark corners and ghosts that came in at will. It marked her a failure. Even when she viewed the place she had known, even then that she could never be happy there. But she had been eager, so eager to be on her own, to pay her own bills, eat what she wanted, sleep when she felt like it, to not be the weak little girl she knew everyone thought her to be. But within its walls was not the sanctuary she had sought and she had never been anything but a stranger there.

It wasn’t, she surmised, standing in the doorway of the small bedroom, that she lived alone in the apartment that made her feel so despondent about the place but perhaps it was simply the timing. She had come to the apartment emotionally drained and confused. It would forever be tainted with negative emotions and bad dreams, as if the fabric of the carpets and structure were stained by all the sadness around her. There was no joy to be found there, no good memories.

She wanted to erase the past. She wanted it so desperately. Still she lingered in the doorway of her bedroom, unwilling to go further into the room. She could see her mom had made small efforts to make the place much more liveable, the piles of boxes were no longer littering the floor, there were no clothes on the floor or bed and not even a purse strap hanging in sight. It was the closet though, her eye fell on, and slowly she made her way across the carpet, before brushing her fingertips against the cool handle of the double doors. Resolutely she edged the closet open, tidy stacks of skirts and shirts revealing themselves in the light flooding the dark space. The sight of them brought a lump to her throat, thin cottons and wools neatly folded, neat and orderly in a way that she couldn’t hope to be.

Crouching down in front of the closet, she squinted as she prodded unconsciously towards the back corner. As if moved by an unseen force, she shifted a heavy cardboard box out from behind a pile of bags and shoes. This box was separate from the others, and soon she was drawing it into her arms and planting it carefully on the carpet beside her.

She hadn’t consciously realised what she wanted from the box until she opened it, sliding a small pair of nail scissors along the tape and pulling up the flaps. And there, like a forbidden object, lay at the bottom of the box; the very thing she now realised she had been looking for. Tentatively she slipped her hand into the box and touched the cover, sliding her fingertips along the pages before lifting it out and carrying it to the bed.

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She hadn’t heard Helene enter the apartment, nor the bedroom. Absorbed in her past, in a different life, Pam was on the bed, her knees scrunched up uncomfortably beneath her. And even as Helene carefully approached her daughter, reaching out to get her attention Pam didn’t flinch, nor did she even twitch a muscle. Slowly her head lifted up from the photo album to her mothers, watery tracks shining on her cheeks.

“Hey.” Helene called kindly, then drew in a breath at the sight of the tears and quickly walked around the bed, perching herself on the edge beside her. Her eyebrows raised and her mouth twisted into a frown as she took in the images. “What is it, sweetheart?” she said kindly.

Pam was gazing down at the black covered album, a finger tracing sadly around a picture in the top right corner. Helene followed the movement with her eyes, the gentle brushing and caressing of the images; images of her daughter and the man who had caused so much pain.

“It wasn’t always bad.” Pam said at last, her tone almost wistful in its sadness. She did not lift her head from the photo. Over her shoulder her mom watched wordlessly.

Pam carefully turned the page, automatically touching the new photos. “I remember when Roy and I used to talk about having children and going to France and……” her voice shook, “Sometimes I still can’t believe that it ended like this.”

“He used to make me laugh,” she continued quietly. “He wasn’t always like the guy we saw in court. I don’t know what happened to make him do what he did.” After a moment she gently tapped on a photo. It was taken a few weeks after they started dating. Roy had his head thrown back and was laughing gaily, while Pam looked on in amusement. She bit her cheek thoughtfully. “Do you think we see only what we want to sometimes?”

“He fooled us all.” her mother replied in a tone that was not quite steady. Underneath the calm voice Pam heard the sadness living there. She did not like it a bit.

“Yeah.” Pam sniffed. “Yeah.” She turned another page, stopping at an image of her and Roy that was surely several years old. “Seven years..” she said, slow tears coursing down her cheeks. “I was so blind. Seven years of my life I spent with him. I can’t get that back. Seven years. Seven years.”

“As you get older,” Helene said after a pause, “You’ll realise that time doesn't mean anything. Seven years won’t seem like so long.” Her voice had a soothing quality to it, one that Pam remembered warmly from years long gone.

For the first time since she had sat down beside her, Pam lifted her head to look at her mother. “I’m scared, Mom.” she said anxiously. “I’m scared that I’m never going to have a normal life, do all the normal things people do, like marriage, kids, house, white picket fence.”

“Oh, everyone gets scared about those things.” Helene patted her on the arm. “That’s what normal is, isn’t it?”

Pam thought about that for a moment. She was slightly irritated by her mothers easy presumption. It was too simple for her to say, and the injustice of her situation stung at her again, the reminder that she had suffered alone and in a sense, still suffered alone. Her fears were different to normal people, her fears had been laid into her over a series of years, her fears were real. Her fingers twitched against the photo album on her lap. “I don’t know anymore.”

Helene glanced at her sadly, patting her arm once more. “You’re very nervous about tomorrow, aren’t you?” she asked.

“There’s a whole nest of hornets in my stomach.” Pam admitted. She wiped her eyes tiredly. Suddenly she felt exhausted, remembering that she had not eaten anything all day, and had drunk only a small cup of lukewarm coffee shortly after she had woken. Normal. Normal. The word hung in the air in front of her. Nothing about her situation was normal.

“After tomorrow it will all be over.” Helene said confidently.

“No…” Pam shook her head. She thought that was far too idealistic. “No, It will never be over, not completely.”

“Pam-”

“It’s okay.” she shrugged her shoulders limply. “It’s something I’m learning to live with. It doesn’t have to ruin me.”

“I hope he gets what he deserves.” Helene muttered sharply, uncharacteristically. Pam looked up in surprise. She despised Roy even more at that moment, as she and her mom sat together in a strange apartment, her mother desperately struggling to bridge the gap between them. The gap that Roy had absolutely helped to build.

“Jim punched Roy once. The day I left.” she blurted out.

A smile flickered briefly on Helene’s face.“I know.”

“Knocked him on his ass too.” Pam added.

Helene tried to smother another smile. “I think I would have liked to have seen that.”

“He sure wasn’t expecting that.” Pam said, and despite herself a laugh drew out of her, long and energetic. Her mother soon joined in. Their giggles sounded good mingled together in the dismal room. “It was like someone tipped a cow in the room! He just went down, like splat!”

Both went off into a further fit of laughter, before the apprehension of the looming sentencing hearing caught up with Pam again, clouding her like a shadow. Instantly she sobered up.

“It’s what made me finally leave.” she said sombrely. “You know. That’s when I realised how completely destructive Roy was. If he could drive someone like Jim to punch him out like that… well you know Jim, he hates getting riled up about anything. But for Roy to make Jim furious like that… I mean Jim was angry, really angry. I’d never have thought he was capable of that.” Pam dropped her eyes to the floor. “That’s what Roy does. He can bring out the very worst in people. And he didn’t even try to hit Jim back. He didn’t even try. If I had ever tried to hit him he would have killed me.” she blinked, suddenly choked by emotion as she remembered that last night. “He almost did.”

Helene watched her daughter sadly before shifting closer to her on the bed. She held out her arms and Pam accepted the hug gratefully. Her mothers warm arms slipped around her like a well loved security blanket and she lay her head down on Helene’s shoulder. They didn’t say anything for a long time, and yet there was so much unsaid between them – unsaid but not unheard. There was a comforting familiarity in the sensation of silence, like the fabric of a well worn garment knitting back together. Lavender and sweet vanilla impregnated the air. Something forgotten stirred within her. She remembered. They used to make sugar cookies together after school, rich, wholesome sugar and chocolate and vanilla cookies. She had been fascinated by the different shapes she could make the dough into. That had been her favorite part, watching little snowmen or trees or puppies with smiling faces form under her pudgy little childs hands. And each night as she was tucked into bed her dad had always snuck up an extra cookie for her, a humorous finger pressed to his lips in a vow of silence.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Pam said suddenly. “All the time it was happening.”

Helene was startled. “It doesn’t matter.” she gave a half shrug. “You don’t have to say sorry. I know you couldn’t tell me.”

“I should have said something.” Pam brushed at her eyes. Her mothers hands were in her hair, patting and rubbing just like when she was a child. It was a nice feeling, and she drew comfort from it.

“It was an impossible situation.” Helene leaned against her daughter, their shoulders pressing together. “You were not to blame.”

A great weight lifted from Pam’s chest. “Really?” she exclaimed.“But… I should have… You never once asked me why I didn’t. Dad’s asked me a lot why I didn’t…” she admitted, trailing off.

“Don’t you worry about your Dad. You know how he is, he only takes his feet out of his mouth to occasionally change his socks. No need to wallow in guilt. I understand why you didn’t tell us.” Helene repeated.

Pam pulled herself out of the embrace and looked at her mother with wide eyes. “You… you do?”

“Sure.” Helene replied sincerely. “No one but you knows what it was like to be in that relationship. What’s done is done. Can’t be changed, can it. We all have regrets.” She sighed. “Maybe I would have kept quiet too.”

“You don’t think it was my fault?” Pam looked intently at her mother, her keen eyes looking for any betrayal of her true feelings.

“Look at me. Look at me,” Helene implored. “Nobody blames you for falling in love with Roy. Or with Jim. So you can just stop torturing yourself about everything.”

Nodding unsteadily, the over familiar tears welled up inside her again. She was so sick of crying all the time. Still she felt like a child once more, diving into her Mom's arms to dry her eyes, clinging to her gratefully.

“Mom…” she whispered. She was exhausted. “Mom...there are things about…” she began nervously, “Things you don’t know. Things that happened between me and Roy. I think… “ she topped and breathed deeply. “I think one day I’d like to tell you about it.” she exhaled. Her Mom's arms tightened around her.

“Of course you can, Pammy.” Helene said with emphasis. “Whenever you are ready to.”

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When she got home to Jim’s house, he was dozing on the couch, a sports game mid way on the television. She almost laughed at the sight of him, then, feeling buoyed after time spent with her mom a sly grin came to her face. Putting the box she was carrying down on the floor in the hallway she went to the drawer of the little table in the hallway, moving pens and paper around until she found the item she was looking for.

Creeping back towards Jim, she crouched down beside him and gently ran her fingers over his cheek.

“Jim?” she whispered. She waited a few minutes for any sign of him waking before she uncapped the red marker pen and, leaning over him at an awkward angle, she got to work.

It was at least another half an hour before Jim woke up and strolled lazily into the kitchen, following the warm scent of hearty spices. Pam was gently stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious to his empty stomach and he smiled at her gratefully as she looked up.

Pam ground her teeth together as she saw her partner emerge from the living room, trying to turn the bellyful of laughter brewing inside her into an innocent smile. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she simply flashed a half smile, half grimace in his direction and very studiously turned all her attention to the saucepan she was stirring.

She could feel him looking at her oddly, not quite sure what was going on, then she felt him standing close behind her. There was a light, warm feeling as he kissed the top of her head before sauntering off unaware into the other room again.

All through dinner she fought hard against the urge to giggle. They talked a little, Pam noticing small signs in her partner that betrayed his own nerves for the next day. She excused herself from the table briefly, and went to the box she had carried in to retrieve the little gift she had so carefully worked on and had wrapped up that day.

“Hey, um..” she returned to the table, suddenly realising that this moment would also be the moment she had pranked Jim for the first time. She didn’t think he’d mind though… she hoped he wouldn’t. Yet Roy was at the back of her mind screaming at her for doing something so childish and insulting. She mentally told him to shut up and handed the gift to Jim with a straight face.

“What’s this…?” Jim asked in wonder. Pam just smiled and motioned for him to open it, which he did, carefully unwrapping the paper and sliding the little book out and on to the table.

“Oh.. wow… hey, that’s us!” Jim said, pointing at the cover with genuine joy. “Oh that’s us from up at the lakes.”

“Yeah, I just.. um, really like that photo of us.” Pam said shyly.

“Bucket list…” Jim read off the cover. “Oh, hey.” he opened the book. “Wow… so we get to plan our goals in here. Things we want to do, anniversaries we want to remember and stuff. This is so cool, Beesly.”

Pam smiled at him, nodding wordlessly. Jim gave a low whistle. “This thing goes up to another ten years. Ten years, Pam?”

She shrugged her shoulders, feigning nonchalance. “Why not?”

Jim let out a gentle puff of air, overwhelmed at the gift and the obvious meaning behind it. His cheeks had grown red and he leaned toward her, pulling her in for a kiss.

“We’ll get tomorrow over with and then…” Pam said, motioning to the book.

“Beesly,” Jim said enthusiastically, holding his arms out. “Come here.”

Without hesitation she got up from her chair and moved towards him. Before he could rise from his own seat she quickly sat down on his lap and curled her arms around his neck.

“I love you, Halpert.” she said gently as he returned the embrace.

“Love you more, Beesly.” he smiled. Then he caught sight of the blurry reflection of himself in the photo glass on the wall behind her. Pressing his lips together tightly he waited a few moments before speaking, smothering the urge to laugh.

“Uh, Pam?” he said airily. “I seem to have grown some whiskers.”

She stiffened. “Oh, have you? Let me see.” she drew back from him. “Oh. Oh dear. You’ve got a big red cat nose too.”

Unable to help himself, Jim started to laugh. “You goofball.” he said between chuckles.

“It’s purrrfect, don’t you think?” Pam said, and burst into laughter herself. She felt very happy. All in all things were okay… there were battles still to come, but ultimately she could see them winning the war.