To Pam, it almost seemed like they were doing it on purpose.  She felt her cheeks flush with anger and just a little embarassment – after all, this was still an office-related event.  Did they have to flaunt their relationship so openly?
 
            A little voice inside Pam’s head whispered, ‘Karma’s a bitch.’ 

            So she silenced that nagging little voice with another swallow of her bacardi and coke and turned her head from where Jim and Karen sat snuggled in a booth nearby. 

            Part of her knew she deserved this, that this was her punishment for being so weak and cowardly and ignorant.  She knew that she should accept the fact that she blew it with Jim, knew that she should try to move on as he had, knew that she should try see reason.  But after several drinks, that dark night in the office during Casino Night seemed like eons ago and at the moment, all she could see was red. 

            Jim must have said something truly amusing, because at that moment, Karen erupted into husky, effusive laughter and lightly touched a hand to his chest.   

            And in an instant, Pam remembered the feel of that hard chest beneath her own hand, the feel of those soft lips beneath her own lips, the feel of those deep eyes boring into her soul, begging, pleading, praying for her to just let go,  

            And just like that, the anger was gone.  Replacing it was the most infinite sadness that Pam had ever known.  Because she had tried to hate Karen – God knows, she had tried hard.  But Karen was sweet, and funny, and nice, and beautiful.  Everything that Jim deserved. 

            Pam had had her chance.  And she had blown it.  And knowing that, realizing that, was more painful than all the rest. 

            Enough.  Enough now. 

            Quietly and inconspicuously, Pam slipped her coat over her shoulders and grabbed her purse, ready to head out the door.  She didn’t belong here. 

            She almost made it, too, and had her keys out to unlock her car when a hand on her arm turned her, stopped her, caught her off balance and she stumbled, hand connecting with something warm and solid. 

            She looked up. 

            And there he was.  And there she was.  And there was her hand, and the chest, and the lips, and the eyes… and the plea.  And the prayer. 

            And the pain disappeared.  And the guilt disappeared.  And Karen disappeared. 

            And it was just them.  Her.  And him.  And their eyes and their lips and their hands and their hearts. 

            And then she knew. 

            Here it was.  This was it. 

            This was where she belonged.