It takes two weeks for everything to fall apart, for something so seemingly well put together (and so poorly thought out) to quietly crumble at Karen's feet.
She begins to figure it out within days after they'd gone for coffee. First, there's an intricate plan between the two of them (she hadn't been asked to participate) to get Dwight to come back. She didn't understand why they'd want that guy to come back...one time she'd walked in on Dwight giving himself a haircut over the kitchen sink, so, she didn't get it. Then, there's a three-day mess-with-Andy spree (that time she had been asked to participate, but only because she speaks French).
It's not long after Dwight comes back and Andy gets fired when she begins to realize that no meant absolutely and thing meant love and I'm really glad you're here meant nothing.
* * * *
She waits two days after breaking up with Jim before going to Human Resources.
Toby's shifting through a huge pile of papers when she goes over to his desk. He looks up when she leans her hip against it.
"Hey, Karen."
She pretends this time that he doesn't have to greet everyone with the same sweet Kindergarten teacher voice.
"Hey. Um, I just wanted to make sure that Jim and I are withdrawn as being, you know..."
He nods, his lips pressed together.
Please don't look at me that way. It doesn't hurt as much as you think it does. Really. Really.
"Jim talked to me yesterday. You guys are no longer registered."
She breathes. "Okay. Thanks."
"No problem. How are you holding up?"
How am I holding up? Well, I'm up, so that should say something.
She smiles tightly. "Fine. I'll be fine. It was...mutual."
He looks at her.
It's not cute. You're not cute when you do that. Your voice doesn't make me feel better at all.
"Okay," he says. "Well, let me know if you need anything."
"Sure. Thanks."
* * * *
She's by herself in the kitchen trying to eat a lukewarm Lean Cuisine when Toby comes in for his eighteenth cup of coffee.
God, his breath must be terrible.
Before he walks out, he leans into her. Okay, maybe not.
"He should have told you," he murmurs. This time his voice reminds her of sand. Smooth. Soft.
For some reason, she feels the need to defend Jim. Or, herself.
"Maybe he tried to," she says, not looking at him, picking apart her rubbery chicken with a plastic fork.
"Maybe he didn't try hard enough." His voice squeaks in between the words hard and enough and her stomach flips.
He leaves the room with his coffee and she dumps her food into the trash.
* * * *
They accidentally start taking their non-lunches together (she still can't eat, and he only drinks coffee).
He laughs when she complains about how all of the grocery stores in Scranton are set up backwards from the ones in Stamford and how it took her forty-five minutes to find dishwasher detergent.
It's not even that funny.
But she finds herself watching his lips and she makes up more stories to tell.
* * * *
The same day Jim and Pam both come in late (together, at the same time), Toby wears a green tie.
So it doesn't sting as bad.
She spends more time than she should at his desk that day, talking low so Kelly won't hear. She even touches him once, and his bicep is a lot more firm than she thought it would be. Because she had thought about it.
She tells him she likes his tie.
"You should really wear more green." She smiles and tells herself she's not flirting.
He kind of laughs and it's goofy and sweet and weird all at once. He doesn't answer her, but he looks at her in a way that's sort of like What are you doing?
And she doesn't know.
* * * *
She pretends that she doesn't already know that the picture on his desk is of his daughter when she asks him about it.
When he says, "That's Sasha...my little girl," instead of just saying daughter, all of her preconceived ideas of guys with kids just disappear.
It's not ideal. But he told the truth.
* * * *
It's not long before Jim is just a silly mistake to her, an accident that she could have avoided, but didn't because it seemed right at the time.
What can you do?
She starts singing in her car again on the way to work and eating Chinese take-out for lunch. She says bye to Pam every night when she leaves.
* * * *
They both decide (without ever actually talking about it) that spending so much time together at work is a bad idea.
They meet for a drink one night at Shaughnessy's, kind of late. He drinks Heineken. She likes rum.
He talks a lot more when he's buzzed. She says too much when she is.
"So what made you do it?" he asks. He's wearing the green tie again but it's loose and the top three buttons of his shirt are undone.
She tries not to look. "Do what?"
"Move here. From Connecticut."
She laughs, a little too hard. "You are not going to fucking go there."
"Go where?" His voice squeaks again and the room spins for her.
"There."
"Okay. I was just asking. It just seems..."
"Foolish? Irrational?"
"No. A lot of people wouldn't have taken that chance."
"It wasn't about Jim."
"I didn't say-"
"Maybe it was a little bit about Jim."
"Why did you stay?"
She sips her Bacardi and Diet Coke and sways a little in her seat. "It'd be fucking stupid to go somewhere else, right? If I did, I'd be admitting to my own stupid...stupidity."
She swallows hard and searches Toby's blue eyes. Or maybe he's searching hers.
"I'm not afraid of getting hurt," she says firmly. "You shouldn't be, either."
His hand is rough against her hair and his thumb catches a little bit on her earring.
* * * *
He's an excellent kisser and she never would have thought it. Because she had thought about it.
He's a little out of practice, maybe, because you can always tell. But firm and slow and he pulls her bottom lip between his teeth in just the right way and his tongue is smooth and gentle.
Still, she can't help feeling like she's in high school again when she's sprawled out on his queen-sized bed (on top of a comforter she knows he didn't pick out himself). She watches him get tangled up in his jacket as he's trying to take it off and she laughs, and helps him pull his arms out of the sleeves. He smells like generic laundry soap and beer and some sort of Polo cologne that his mom had probably bought for him five years ago.
He's got decidedly less hair on his head for her hands to get tangled in. Less hair on his chest to get caught between her lips.
It's still too soon to not compare things. I'm really trying, I swear.
She's pleasantly surprised when she sees him in nothing but his boxers. She feels the bulk of his shoulders under her palms and they're strong, sturdy.
Everything he does to her in his bed betrays his sweet, Kindergarten teacher voice. But his voice still squeaks a little when he gently urges her, come on...come on.* * * *
It's Valentine's Day when he asks her to come over that weekend to meet Sasha. She lies and tells him she's got plans to go see her mom.
It can't be this yet.
When she notices Jim tuck a tiny pink rose behind Pam's ear, she pretends she never saw anything and gets up to go to Toby's desk.
"Hey. It turns out I'm free this weekend after all."
Maybe it can be.
