He watched her move around the kitchen almost seamlessly, as if she didn't need him there. Which made sense, as he hadn't been there for so long. He sat awkwardly in his own home, like he didn't belong there, just mesmerised by the way she was getting everything done. She shimmied around the kitchen, turning the oven down with one hand, kicking an open cupboard shut with her foot, appeasing a crying Cece, before dashing to the stove to turn off a pan that was about to boil over, all whilst Philip was balanced on her hip.

"Want me to take him?" Jim offered from the kitchen table where he was sitting? 

"Huh?" Pam replied, as she walked back to the stove to stir a pot.

"Want me to take Phil?" he asked again.

"Oh," she laughed slightly. "I hadn't even realised he was here," she said, looking down at Philip and touching her forehead to his. "Sure." She walked over and tried to hand the toddler to Jim, but he clung tighter to Pam as he was lowered. "Come on Phil, go to daddy." But Philip just shook his head and clenched his legs around Pam tighter. "Alright then," she smiled, righting her angle. 

Bathtime was no different, with Jim feeling like a spectator in his own house. He sat on the closed toilet lid, watching the bath fun play out in front of him, having no part of it, not knowing where he could fit in. So he just sat and watched. And he saw just how tired Pam was. How the sparkle in her eye seemed dimmer. How her shoulders sagged a little more. How she tried to stifle a yawn as she sang yet another nursery rhyme. And he realised he'd done this to her. That he'd turned her into a single mother, someone that didn't need to depend on anyone, someone who could do it all herself. 

But he knew he didn't want her to do that. He wanted to share the load. To be a part of his family again. To have Pam depend on him, rather than everyone depend just on her.