Pam stuck the last of her quarters in the vending machine, pushed the buttons and reached down for her chips. When she turned to exit the break room, she was startled to find Jim standing a few feet away. She hadn’t heard him come in.

“Stealthy entrance!” she commented as she tried to get her heart rate return to normal.

He gave her a small, quick smile in response, not too enthusiastic, before he said, “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?”

The way he said that, paired with the now completely serious look on his face, one that looked almost like one she’d seen before in a parking lot months ago, hesitant but intense, made her almost hope for a second that maybe… Maybe he wanted to tell her something similar to what he’d told her that night.

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, swallowing. She was desperate to keep her cool, telling herself to chill out, there was no way…

“So I’m basing this on something Dwight said, so I just want you to know that I am totally aware that the stuff that comes out of his mouth is usually… untrustworthy and ridiculous, so if this is an extreme exaggeration, or complete fabrication, just let me know, but just in case–”

“Jim, what is it?” Pam cut him off. The rambling disclaimer was beginning to drive her nuts in anticipation, and the fact that it had something to do with Dwight had now totally dashed her earlier hopes, and she just wanted this conversation over.

“Okay, well, he was off on one of his completely sexist spiels about women and their hormones, and he mentioned, as an example, that there was one day a couple weeks ago when he found you crying in the stairwell.” He looked down to the ground, nervously, and then back up to her hesitantly for her reaction. This was one of those things that might be pushing the boundary of ‘things they can talk about and still remain friends and sane’.

She hesitated, but only for the barest of breaths, and it was while he was looking at the floor so he didn’t notice. “Complete fabrication.” She smiled. With teeth. It was very convincing. It wasn’t in the stairwell, she mentally clarified to justify her lie.

Jim smiled back and nodded. “Okay. Well, good. Just… wanted to make sure.”

“Okay.” She looked down at her chips. She wasn’t hungry anymore.

Jim turned to walk back out the door, proving that the only reason he’d come into the break room at all was to have this conversation. Before he reached the exit, though, he turned back. “You’d let me – you’d let someone know, right? If you weren’t okay?”

“Yeah, definitely.” The same, toothy, convincing smile. But if I wasn’t okay, she wanted to add. What would you do about it? Anything at all? Look at me pityingly and suggest I talk to a professional? Actually break up with Karen? Nothing? There was no way she was willing to deal with the can of worms that would be opened by voicing those thoughts. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

He grinned and shrugged. “It’s what friends do.”

She nodded as he turned and left. Right.

We’re friends. We’ll always be friends.