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Author's Chapter Notes:
Oh hi. Meant to finish this chapter ages ago but turns out that summer with four kids is basically like running a circus. Add in a little covid, a lot of sleep deprivation, and it's a miracle I can even remember my own name at this point. But I wrote it! Here you go.
"Madison and Elijah want to go out tomorrow for dinner. She said she wants to try that new Mediterranean place, but I'm not sure I'm in the mood for that. Jim?"

"Hmm?"

She set the plate she was washing in the sink and sighed heavily. "Have you even been listening to a word I've said?"

"Of course," he lied. He was only half-listening. "Madison. Dinner."

She gave him a look that told him he had narrowly avoided trouble and went back to the dishes. It had been a week since he returned from Denver and it felt as if he had been transplanted into someone else's life. Everything was familiar but nothing was the same. He had been trying his hardest to pretend that everything was normal, but even his mom could sense something was different during her weekly phone call. He shrugged it off, telling her work was busy and he wasn't sleeping well because of it. She dropped the subject but Jim could tell she wasn't convinced.

One thing had been true, and that was that he wasn’t sleeping well. He would close his eyes and try to count sheep but those sheep would start to morph and their wool would turn into soft auburn curls and soon they weren’t sheep at all. He was counting Pams. Then he would just start imagining one Pam–the only Pam–and replay all their conversations, feeling a pang in the pit of his stomach. And every night, he would convince himself he was just hungry. He would shake the image of her and head to the fridge at an ungodly hour. He had probably gained 5 pounds in a week just trying to forget her.

It was obvious Karen was onto the shift in his demeanor, even though he was desperately trying to act normal. He would catch her staring at him from the other side of the couch, eyebrows knitted and mouth turned down studiously, as if she was trying to dissect every muscle twitch or intake of breath. Normally, he loved how attentive and aware she was. She could always tell when something was bothering him and would try to make it better. But right now he just wanted her to stop looking at him.

Meeting Pam, whether he liked it or not, had put his relationship with Karen under a magnifying glass. All the flaws and weak spots that he could once ignore or explain away had become glaringly obvious. And he began to worry if that magnifying glass was held there too long, it would only begin burning a hole in the relationship. It wasn’t just small things either, like leaving the cap off the toothpaste or the millions of bobby pins she left all over the apartment. It was deeper things, like the way that she could never seem to admit fault for anything. Instead, there was always a deflection or excuse. There was jealousy. Not just about other women, but professionally as well. They worked together and any time he got a bonus, raise, or an especially glowing performance review, she never seemed genuinely happy for him unless she got the same. She constantly told him he joked too much and couldn’t take anything seriously, always telling him he needed to grow up. The longer they were together, the more she seemed annoyed by things he would do. It hadn’t always been that way.

He tried—really tried—not to compare his girlfriend of two years to the girl he met at the airport and spent less than 24 hours with, but what did it say about his relationship with Karen that such a fleeting encounter could cause him to question everything? And what did it say about the girl at the bar in the Denver airport? He’d never been more confused.

He stood in front of the bathroom mirror the following night, fixing his hair before they left for dinner with their friends. Karen came in behind him and grabbed her toothbrush, then slinked her arms around him from behind. Normally he welcomed that sort of gesture, but lately it just made him feel claustrophobic. He offered a smile to her through the mirror when she peeked around his tall frame. Then she unlatched her grasp on him and applied toothpaste to her toothbrush before walking into the hallway, brushing her teeth. Jim let out a sigh as he stared at the small white cap sitting at the edge of the sink, trying to remind himself that it never really bothered him before.

The drive to the restaurant was quiet. Karen occupied herself with her phone and Jim honestly couldn’t think of a single thing to say to start a conversation. Instead, he reached forward and turned up the radio a few notches. Without taking her eyes from the screen of her phone, Karen reached her hand to the knob and turned it back down. "Too loud," she droned. “I have a headache.”

Dinner with Madison and Elijah was fun, but Jim found himself feeling disjointed. Normally he loved to tell jokes, converse, and generally have a good time, but this time he stayed quiet and gave courtesy smiles. He could feel Karen’s eyes on him and could picture her pursed lips even when he wasn’t looking her direction. She’d probably make a big deal of it at home—force him to stay up and “talk it out”. But he just couldn’t get himself to fake the amount of enthusiasm that would make her happy.

“Well,” she said as they walked in the doors to their apartment building. “You were quite the peach tonight.”

“I have a headache.” He knew it was petty, but he said it anyway. Karen just rolled her eyes and entered the elevator. Once on their floor, Jim let her exit first and fell in stride behind her as she walked to their apartment. Karen stood to the side as he pulled out his keys and stuck it in the lock, only to find it was already unlocked.

“You didn’t lock the door?” Karen said.

“You came out after me. You didn’t lock the door.”

“No, I am positive I did. I always do.”

“Well, it’s unlocked. I went down to get the car and you hung back to finish your make-up, remember?”

“My key must be faulty or something, then.”

“The key you’ve had for a year?”

“I locked it,” she insisted.

Jim realized that in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a big deal. Nobody had entered their apartment and all their stuff was right where they left it, but everything just seemed to bubble up at once.

“Oh my gosh, Karen, can you just admit you were wrong? For once? You forgot to lock the door! Big deal! It’s okay to admit that!”

She drilled holes through him with her glare. “Excuse me?” she said quietly.

Jim ran his hands through his hair and over his face, then placed them on his hips and met her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

He let out a sigh and shrugged.

“What the hell has been up with you lately?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you are acting so weird. You’re distant, you’re irritated. You barely said a word at dinner tonight when normally you have to be the class clown everywhere you go.”

Jim dropped to the couch and slumped over with his elbows on his knees, looking to the floor. Of course he was acting different. He was different.

“I just…” He didn’t even know what to say. He wasn’t sure he could say the words he was thinking. “I don’t think I’m happy anymore.”

“In general, or with me?”

He looked up at her, defeat on his face, his silence speaking volumes.

“Jim, what are you saying?”

He wasn’t saying anything, which was probably worse.

What are you saying?” she hissed again.

He took a deep breath. “I’m saying…I’m done.” There it was. Bandaid ripped off. 

“Are you kidding me right now?”

Jim couldn’t seem to meet her gaze. “I can stay at Mark’s tonight.”

“So that’s it. Two years, and that’s it? It’s over? What happened?!”

“It’s not…it’s not just one thing. Honestly, I don’t think we are right for each other anymore and I think we need to move on.”

He could hear the emotion begin to creep into Karen’s words and it broke his heart. He knew he needed to end things but that didn’t make it any easier.

She sniffled. “Jim…”

Finally, he brought himself to look back up at her. “I’m sorry, Karen,” he whispered, trying to swallow tears of his own.

She swiped a sleeve over her eyes quickly. “Like hell you are,” she said coldly, and brushed past him into the bedroom. Honestly, this was not where he thought they would be when the night started. But despite the pain he was feeling, he also felt an immense sense of relief. It was confirmation that the decision was right.

He stayed on the couch, trying to process what he had just done and the conflicting emotions that came along with it. From the bedroom, he heard a suitcase zip. He walked back to the bedroom, confused. “I told you I could go to Mark’s.”

“I don’t want to stay here,” she said shakily. “I’m going to Shannon’s. I’ll come by on Saturday to get all my things.”

“Karen…we need to figure out…”

“Don’t.” She glared at him. “Not right now.”

Jim hung his head and stepped aside as she left the room they had shared for the past year and walked out the front door without another word.

*****

There would be no counting sheep (or Pams) for Jim that night. He stayed awake, attempting to sort out his thoughts. It was undeniable that the shift in his life and in his relationship was because of his encounter with Pam at the airport. He would be a fool to think otherwise. But it wasn’t solely about Pam. Sure, she sparked it but it wasn’t as if he was breaking up with Karen to be with Pam. He didn’t even know her last name and in any case, she wasn’t available.

No, he was breaking up with Karen because one day in the Denver airport showed Jim that there could be a better fit for him. He could find someone who laughed at his jokes instead of rolled their eyes at them. He could find someone that inspired and encouraged him instead of competing with him. He could find someone soft, and gentle, rather than cold and rigid.

He rolled to his side and checked the time on his phone. 3:16 am. He sighed heavily and opened up Facebook, hoping that some mindless scrolling might put him to sleep. He swiped his thumb a few times, then almost mindlessly touched the search bar at the top. He typed in P-A-M and pressed enter. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but all of the profiles that came up were definitely not the Pam he wanted to find. Why would they be? He turned off his phone and turned to his back. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to play back his day in the airport one more time. Running into her, both literally and later figuratively at the bar. The gift shops. The endless, easy conversation. The way she chose to draw the two of them on the back of a receipt. The way she—

He sat straight up in bed.

Flinging the sheets to one side, he scrambled out of bed and dug in the back pocket of his jeans, grabbing his wallet. He whipped it open and pulled out the small white paper.

He unfolded it, turned it around, and searched it frantically with his eyes, then beamed.

Her Shake Shack receipt.

At the top, it read:

CARDHOLDER NAME: P. BEESLY

His heart was racing. Beesly. Pam Beesly from Scranton, Pennsylvania.

He sat on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, and opened his phone.

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