Pam's fingers curl subconsciously at her waistline, her mind clouded with thoughts, hopes, and fears. She knows she isn't feeling anything substantial yet, but she realizes with a nostalgic little smile that the fluttering she feels, (or maybe just imagines,) in her belly is a lot like the butterfly she trapped between two tiny hands when she was four. It's amazing, really, how she connects something so adult with something so childish, and she wonders how many women have had the same thoughts while sitting alone, feeling the unborn child growing, thriving inside them.
She thinks back, back to the night when her life suddenly took an unexpected turn. It was an enormous change with no warning, coming during a moment that seemed like any other.
Unlike a lot of her memories and dreams, this one's in full color, (as are most of the ones involving him, she decides,) like it needs to be remembered as something special. This particular memory is always fresh, like she's living through it again instead of just reminding herself.
It was Casino Night, the night he changed everything. The night Jim said the five words that shattered the protective shield she'd carefully constructed around her life. The night she realized that safe didn't always mean happy, no matter what she'd tried to convince herself.
"I'm in love with you."
They were alone in the parking lot, and she'd been teasing him about his inability to beat her at poker. And then he'd said it, barely more than a whisper, his voice hoarse and clogged with the tears she saw shining in his eyes. She'd never forget the pain she saw there, the fear he'd never let her see before. He reminded her so much of a little boy afraid he was about to be abandoned by the one person he'd put complete trust in.
And originally, that was just what she'd done. She'd abandoned him, cutting his confession down with the idiotic, unfair, immature "I can't."
She didn't blame him for being upset, for the harsh response he had to her stupid reaction. She often wondered how he ever got the courage to come back to her after that - if the roles had been reversed, she didn't think she could have forgiven him. She realized now, though, that three years of seeing her with someone else had given him plenty of practice in getting over heartbreak.
When she went up to the office to sort out her thoughts, she purposely chose his desk because - despite everything that had happened - it was a place where she felt safe. What is safe, anyway? she remembered thinking, but staying there anyway.
But even that moment of relative security was compromised by five different words, this time, in the voice of her well-meaning, loving, slightly-worried mother.
"Are you in love, too?"
She was starting to hate the number five.
She hated herself more, though, when - without a second thought - she answered, "Yeah, Mom... I think I am." It was the first time she admitted the secret she'd been hiding deeply in her soul, and she even surprised herself when heard her own voice say the words out loud.
Jim appeared then, causing her to hang up too quickly, an action her mother later called her on. They didn't exchange a single word, something that had become a regular, surprisingly comforting normalcy in their complicated relationship. She didn't know what to expect, didn't know how to react when he slipped his arms around her waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her.
It was the single most sensual, emotional kiss Pam had ever gotten.
It started soft. Tender. Nervous, almost. But when she shifted her body into his, went from clutching his sweater to pushing her fingers through his hair, went from simply relenting and allowing him to kiss her to completely responding and kissing him back, he found his confidence again. He bent his knees, bracing her against him, lifting her and setting her down on the edge of the desk.
She didn't think to stop him, didn't want to stop him. She kissed him deeper, harder, as he pushed her skirt up; she clutched his shoulders as he fumbled with his belt. And once he was inside her, they never once broke eye contact, watching every reaction in each other's gaze.
They came together, something Pam had never experienced before. And as they came down from their release, still eye-to-eye, still locked in each other's arms, she realized he was crying...and then felt the tears on her own face. He wiped them away with his thumbs, so gently, ignoring the wetness on his own cheeks, kissing the now-dry spots and smiling sadly.
"Does this change anything, Pam?" he asked her quietly as they straightened themselves out.
"You mean, am I still going to marry Roy?" Jim winced at the mention of Roy's name, and she faltered. "I don't think I can," she finished hurriedly, worried that he wouldn't believe her. "It wouldn't be fair."
"So where does that leave you and me?"
She looked up at him, her heart thudding against her ribcage. "I don't know," she admitted. "This certainly isn't a fairytale, so I can't say how it'll turn out."
"But will you at least give us a shot?" he asked.
She sighed. "I don't know, Jim. I just don't know."
She broke up with Roy that night. It hadn't been easy, and she could barely contain her guilt. Part of her wondered why she hadn't stopped Jim, hadn't waited until she could speak to Roy before she let things get too far. But in the long run, she never once regretted her decision.
When all was said and done, she ended up staying with Phyllis for a few days until she could get things figured out, and then found a tiny apartment a few blocks from her old place.
The worst thing about the whole ordeal had been that Jim decided to leave Scranton.
Before everything happened, Jan had offered him the Assistant Regional Manager's position in Stamford. It was a role that would increase his pay substantially, plus give him a bit more of a reason to get up for work in the morning. It was a good deal.
A few nights after Casino Night, he went to Pam's new apartment and explained that he'd accepted the job. Even before he said anything, she knew it was because of her.
She'd burst into tears, clutching his arms and begging him not to go. They hadn't figured out exactly what turn their relationship was taking, and she knew it was hard on him to go day-to-day pretending nothing had changed. He apologized, explaining that the change would be good for both of them - that maybe they needed to be apart and sort out their lives before they could be together.
It made no sense to her. She hated him for accepting the job, hated herself for not being able to make a decision sooner. She tried to fight him, hitting him and screaming and crying, letting out emotions and passions she didn't know existed inside her. He just let her do it, and Pam swore that she could see his heart breaking even more in the process, despite the fact that he never let it show. That made her even more upset, and she tried to apologize, tried to convince him to stay, but he gently explained that he couldn't - he said that it hurt more to know that she loved him back, but couldn't, or wouldn't, do anything about it.
Jim stayed that night at her insistence, and they made love "one last time", despite the fact that they both knew it would make everything even harder. Pam told him over and over that she'd never give up on them, but she couldn't bring herself to say the one thing she knew he wanted to hear.
Even though she knew it was the truth, she just couldn't tell him that she loved him.
Afterwards, they held each other and cried, both wondering if this was the right thing to do, if they'd be together again. Pam didn't know if her heart would ever heal, or if Jim could ever forgive her.
Three weeks after Jim left for Connecticut, Pam got the news. When she'd called her mother to tell her, Julia Beesly asked the question Pam dreaded.
"Yes, Mom," she'd said. "I'm sure it's Jim's. It can't be anyone else."
It hurts, but only slightly, to know that her baby's conception didn't happen under the best of circumstances - that it wasn't the entirely perfect moment she always imagined it would be. It had been beautifully bittersweet, and knowing that shoots a tiny pain into her heart.
It's nearly a week after her doctor's call now, and Pam had called Jim two days earlier and asked him to come and visit her for the weekend. Now she waits, wondering how to tell him that he's going to be a father - the father of her child.
The doorbell rings, and Pam jumps, her heart in her throat. She stands up, closes her eyes briefly to compose herself, and moves to the door.
When she opens it, she sees him standing there, holding a single pink rose - her favorite. His lips curve into an unassuming smile at the sight of her. Unable to control her emotions, (a slightly embarrassing side effect of the pregnancy that nearly got her into trouble at work on Wednesday when she called Jim and hung up in unexpected tears,) she throws herself into his arms, her eyes filling again. "Jim," she whispers, clinging to him as if he were a life preserver and she was drowning.
"Hey, Pam," he murmurs into her hair, holding her tightly. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know," she replies, realizing that that's one of the only things she ever says to him anymore. "No, actually, I'm not okay. I'm scared, Jim."
He stiffens and lets her go. Closing the door behind him, he leads her to the couch, sitting her down and setting the flower on the table. "Pam, sweetheart, please stop crying and tell me what's wrong."
She sniffles, grabs his hand, and holds it between both of hers. "Jim, I don't know how to tell you..."
He kisses the tip of her nose and rests his forehead against hers. "Just breathe. Relax a little and then tell me. I'm here - I promise I'll do my best to help you."
Pam takes a few deep breaths, sure Jim hears her heart beating from his place a few inches away. "Jim, I went to the doctor last week because I hadn't been feeling well," she finally says.
She watches his eyes widen. "Are you all right? Pam, tell me... Please tell me you're all right."
She squeezes his fingers. "I'm okay," she assures him. "It's just... Jim, I..." She swallows, meets his eyes, tries again. "Jim, I'm pregnant, and the baby is yours."
He stops. His hands clench under hers, his eyes lock on her face. She worries that he'll ask the same question as her mom had, and she knows that those words from his lips will hurt her more than anything else in their relationship ever has.
"Wow," he says quietly, and the way he says the word reminds her of old Jim, the man who helped her play practical jokes on their coworkers and who made her grilled cheese sandwiches for rooftop picnics. Then, remembering the situation, she tenses, bracing herself. She watches his eyes fill with tears, and her breath catches as one slips down his left cheek and onto the collar of the dark green sweater so much like the one he wore that first, fateful night. "Oh, Pam." He reaches over and puts a tentative, careful hand on her still-flat stomach.
It gives her hope, this little gesture, but she needs words - which, she knows, is a selfish thought, since it's the one thing she hasn't been able to give him when he needs it most. "Please, say something," she says, her voice stronger than she expects. It makes her jump slightly, to hear the sound break the silence.
"I'm going to move back to Scranton," Jim murmurs suddenly, as if it's the most brilliant idea anyone's ever had. She'd be hard-pressed to disagree. "I'll talk to Jan on Monday. You and I are going to figure us out. I want to be here for you and the baby throughout everything. Maybe one day you'll marry me and I'll give you the family you deserve, but for now, all I want is to stay by your side through it all and make you realize how much I love you." Pam is crying again, as is he, and she moves closer, nearly into his lap. "No matter what, though, our baby is going to have a mother and a father who love her more than life itself."
She smiles through her tears and puts her hands on each side of his face. "I love you so much already," she sobs. "I don't know what to expect in the next few months, but right now, just know that I love you, Jim." It feels good to say the words after days, months, years of holding them in.
She kisses him, curling her body against his and holding on tightly. As time passes, they sit together in comfortable silence, and finally fall asleep, Pam's head on Jim's chest, his heartbeat an echo of the lullaby their baby hears inside her; his hand gently against her belly, protecting the tiny child he already loves so completely.
Pam dreams that night of a sweet little girl with Jim's expressive olive eyes and her curly cinnamon hair. She sees the child - their daughter - snuggled in his arms, pointing and laughing with his as the three of them watch the sun set over Scranton.
It's the most beautiful sight she's ever known, and she can't wait for it to be reality.
She wraps her arm around Jim's, which still rests on her stomach, and smiles in her half-asleep state. For the first time in years, Pam knows everything is going to be fine.
She feels like she's finally home.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Pam's POV. A/U, post-"Casino Night"; Jim still goes to Stamford, but things end up just a bit different.
Chapter End Notes:
The title is from Pearl Jam's "Better Man", but it's nothing symbolic to the story - I just love the phrasing, so I worked it in. I'm not suggesting that Pam needs a better man than Jim, because really, is there a better man than Jim? *grin*
CallieJames is the author of 11 other stories.
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