“I know, it’s very cute”, Jim laughed, a trace of the old flirtatious banter creeping back to his voice and making Pam’s breath hitch a little; but the way his eyes batted away from hers and remained focussed on the bar table only remined her of how utterly different things were now. Almost foreign.

Sometimes she couldn’t recognise this Jim who now stood in front of her, balancing two identical drinks in his hand, one for him and one for his girlfriend- his smart, beautiful and confident girlfriend.

Yep, sometimes she did not recognise him. Sometimes, she barely recognised herself.

Pam sighed and went back to her table with Kelly, Ryan, Oscar and his boyfriend Gill. As she twirled her half-empty glass of gin and tonic, remnants of her cancelled wedding floating around her like debris, Kelly cackled how hurtful and difficult this must be for Pam.

“Don’t you miss Roy? You must be missing him terribly! Oh, Pam. You should go talk to him; you look miserable!”

Pam sighed again. She was doing a lot of that recently. Kelly was nice, she thought to herself. She had really been there for her the past few months she had no one to talk to in the office. But how was she supposed to tell Kelly that what was hurtful, what pained her, was not Roy and their cancelled wedding, but the lanky salesman sitting a few tables away from her and laughing freely as his girlfriend is showing him something on her phone.

Pam smiled a bit despite herself as she saw Jim laugh. He laughed way less frequently than before, but whenever he did, it teleported her to simpler times when he used to share that laugh with her, when their jokes and banter from across the reception desk kept Pam going in a whirlwind of a life, when he was her best friend, when he hadn’t kissed her and told her he was in love with her, and compelled her to dare to wish, to hope, to love, things she had long given up on.

Pam sighed again, forcing her eyes away from Jim and all that could have been, trying to keep up with the conversation on the table as Gill was narrating to them how him and Oscar had met.

**

“Karen, I really cannot dance. My limbs refuse to coordinate.”

Jim had come back with two drinks only to find his girlfriend swirling and twirling gracefully to some pop number he could not quite place. He waited for a few seconds till she caught his eye, beckoning her to come back to the table.

He smiled as a quite breathless Karen made her way back, jumping into a tirade of how he should dance with her before he had even handed her the drink.

“Shut it, Halpert! You have to dance on weddings. Okay, I will show you a few easy steps.” She quickly flipped open the new blackberry she had been obsessing over and showed Jim some video doing the rounds on how to dance at weddings.

Even as Jim laughed as he peered over her phone, something felt caught in his throat, all down till his chest.

“I am such a dorky dancer.”

He smiled involuntarily at the memory, marvelling at the difference despite himself. No, he wasn’t comparing. At least that’s what he must tell himself.

But Jim had often wondered back in his college days what his ‘type’ was. With whatever few relationships he had had during high school and college, he had never really been able to figure out what he looked for in a partner- everyone had some stuff he liked, some stuff he could do without.

And then he had met Pam, and he was certain in less than twenty-four hours of meeting her that this woman right here is his type. But here he was, about four years later after that bittersweet epiphany, with a fantastic woman now making a deal with him to at least slow dance with her, with a woman who is almost diametrically opposite to his so-called type.

“Jim, you literally just have to sway!”

Jim wasn’t sure what changed on his face as Karen announced this, that world flashing across his mind a montage of teapots, firecrackers, curly hair and air hi-fives, but he was certain that he looked distrubed for Karen’s face and tone shifted automatically.

“Hey, I didn’t want to force you. I was just messing around, you know?”

Jim was quick to regain composure. Sometimes, it still caught him off-guard how indelibly ingrained and yet how faint and distant the last two years of his life are in his mind.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I will concede and slow dance with you, if they manage to play a song my mind can recognise.”

Karen laughed in relief, and just then a Sting song made its way to their ears and she beamed. “Come on, this is it! Time to show off some of those moves, Halpert!”

Jim was dragged to the floor, and he couldn’t wince a little at the irony of Sting playing on what could be called his and Karen’s first dance. But he talked his brain into blocking out any feelings of utter longingness he felt, which made made his body go stiff and his gut twist- he had gotten pretty good at this, to train himself away from thinking about the way his life had flipped and how sometimes he could barely recognise the person he had become.

He willed his brain to focus on the woman in his arms. 

**

There were quite a few things that remineded Pam of everything she was trying to forget- or was she? Sometimes she thought she wasn’t even trying to move on from the high that Jim coming back to Scranton had given her. Somehow, she had willed herself into believing that everything will be back to normal by him just being there, near her, around her, in this place and in this city where they had become each other’s everything and yet nothing.

But things were anything but normal. In fact, things were better when Jim was away. At least then she could have let him remain a beautiful memory to cherish, and mindlessly blame destiny while negotiating with her own lack of courage and issues of self-worth; oh, how many times had she planned to call Jim and then rationalised against it, citing reasons of distance and time and all those practical issues that kept them apart.

He was here now, though, right here, but a ghost of the Jim that Pam had known, had loved; still loves. He was here as a constant reminder of how her lack of ability to make on phone call and tell him that she loves him too has left her life in shambles. In her defence though, she did ask him out the day he was back. Had worn a new sweater and curled her hair and done all that she would never do for anyone else, hoping, almost believing that Jim would look at her once and all the walls the past few months had erected between them would dissolve.

But Jim only looked past her, that day and every day since, and was now dancing with someone else.

The hammer was back, pushing nails all across her flesh and heart as she saw him move comfortably with Karen in his arms, a testament of what-ifs and guilt and regret dancing away in front of her. And then he looked at her, and Pam’s entire body felt the weight of erupting goosebumps as she quickly looked away- not only because of how embarrassing it was to be caught staring at him like a love-sick puppy, but also because he hardly looked at her these days, and whenever he did his face softened in a way that brought back a montage of teapots, firecrackers, shared smiles, secret jokes, of eyes that had looked at her unwaveringly as she told him that she can’t when it was all that she wanted to do.

Letting that montage take over her brain even for a second in front of him would have her wailing and pleading in middle of a hundred people, so she left, almost ran out of the hall.

**

Wow, what was that?

Jim could barely focus on the swaying anymore, and soon the band shifted to a track he didn’t quite place and as the people around him attuned to the increasing tempo, he quickly excused himself from Karen and headed straight to the bar.

He couldn’t, just could not ignore the way Pam looked at him sometimes, the expression uncannily similar to the way he had looked at her during years which now seemed to him like some long-lost ancient fable and a pressing reality all at the same.

Jim gulped down his whiskey. He cannot be thinking of those times, he had longed lived in hypotheticals and what ifs, and now he was finally living in a today with no misinterpreted feelings and chanced confessions. He had a partner whom he adored and who unabashedly adored him back, he was doing great at work, and despite what his parents and Mark told him, he told himself that he was in a very good place in his life right now.

In fact, things were good with Pam as well. She had once again told him that they are friends, and he was being that- a friend who isn’t always constantly yearning for her. They were civil, they had also shared a couple of pranks since he had come back, she was also giving him relationship advice for god’s sake!

That’s what moving on is, right?

Then why does half a second of catching her eye is all that takes him to register the loneliness written all across her face, and why does that bother him to an extent that he is gulping down another whiskey, heading towards the exit to go look for Pam. 

Because I am a friend, and that’s what friends do- look out for each other. Yes, that’s what it is. 

**

Pam heard someone come in the small balcony she had spotted outside the hall, and turned around to find Oscar hesitantly making his way to her.

“You okay there?”

Pam smiled and laughed a little as he stood next to her. She remembered how Jim and her used to say that the only other sane person in the office is Oscar, and although he had been on his amazing vacation most of the time, he was the only person who saw through Pam’s brave charade at times after Jim had left. She had begun to bond quite a lot with him and his boyfriend recently.

“Hey, yeah. Thanks for asking. Was just a little suffocating in there.”

“Yeah, I get it. Listen, how’s your art show coming along? Gill and I would love to come!”

Pam smiled gratefully at him. Oscar had always discussed her classes with her, and she knew he was trying to distract her to think about better things- more important things.

“Thanks so much! I would love to have you guys. It’s not a big deal, but I am really excited about it.”

“It is a big deal, Pam. What you’ve done in the past few months is really brave.”

Pam smiled. He was referring to a lot of things, but just the word brave made a chill run through her body as she wrapped the shawl closer around her. She remembered the day she had shifted to her new apartment, finally ending things with Roy and the life she promised to leave behind, braving on a new start. She had signed up for classes, registered in a lot of tutorials, joined freelance groups, replenished her art supplies, and made a promise to herself to make the best of this chance of starting over her life.

As Pam discussed some of the work she was planning to put on with Oscar, her mind reminded her of all the promises she had made to herself. The chance to start over was largely due to Jim, for in that one moment where he had held her eyes and laid his heart bare, he had made Pam realise how absolutely empty and passionless her life was, and how she had been living like a clockwork all these years, having forgotten what it is like to dream and wish and hope and love. And even if Jim had walked away, and even if the life that Pam had dreamt of as she had painted the walls of her new home had Jim as a significant part of it, she still had those eyes to hold on to that told her to dare, that told her that she can.

He had called her Fancy New Beesly, and she knew that that was his way of telling her how proud he was of all that she had done. So what if he’s not here by her side to share this fancy new everything with her? She will still dream, still dare, and be the version of herself she had somehow lost in the last ten years of her life. She wasn’t going back to that, ever.

Maybe this what moving on feels like, it will take some time, but I will get there. I will get somewhere, at least. 

**

Jim felt like a ten-year old sneak as he peeped into the balcony where Pam and Oscar stood, and while he just wanted to make sure she was okay, he couldn’t help but stare as she almost animatedly explained something to Oscar, her shawl-covered arms waving around her face.

Pam was rarely this animated, and it reminded him of the few times he had seen her like this- when she had made doves for the Office Olympics, when she had told him about an art internship, when she had took all his money in a game of poker and looked at him with such a glaze in her eyes and a smile cutting across her chin that he had to hide behind a sip of his drink as his breath had quickened.

Jim moved back slightly as Pam and Oscar continued to talk, a little happy to find out that she had found someone in the office whom she could talk to. Jim knew she had always liked Oscar, and they used to often joke that if they were to ever expand to a trio, Oscar would be the one to get an in.

He walked backed slowly towards the stage where Karen was singing with the band, her animated ways completely different; she looked at him as he waved with his phone, a similar feeling taking over his mind once again: where have I come, what am I doing?

But then he saw Karen wink at him as she danced a little seductively, and he thought, maybe this is what moving on is like. It will take a little while, but I will get there. I will get there.

***

By the time Jim and Karen were back to her place, both of them were fairly tipsy and were soon removing each other’s clothes.

“I think you looked absolutely sexy as you swayed with me today, Halpert”, Karen whispered softly against his neck as she pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. “I wanted to take you right there”, she continued, biting at his earlobe and making him grunt.

Jim usually enjoyed the almost shy dirty talk, a new side of Karen he had discovered when they had slept together for the first time. But today it just reminded him of all the things he had been thinking about as they had danced earlier, sending him in a pool of guilt. So he shushed her with his lips, catching her lower lip between his teeth.

“Shh, you talk too much, Filippelli”, he said, pulling up one of her legs and pushing down the pantyhose urgently. Karen moaned and happily gave in.

While some people (or maybe just Mark) insisted that what Jim had with Karen was a rebound, Jim tried very hard to stay away from that word, because rebound implied a lack of moving on, but he was moving on, right? Moving on to fancier things, to a better job, to a stable relationship, to clarity and assuredness instead of longingness and what ifs.

And he liked Karen, they had similar dreams, an almost overlapping taste in films and music, she was mature and calm and driven, and more than anything else, she adored him. And it wasn’t like he had hidden stuff from her. Soon after they had started dating after moving to Scranton, Karen had found about his close friendship with Pam- which Jim wasn’t surprised about. Their office wasn’t the best at dealing with secrets, and this he knew by experience.

While they had hit a rough patch a few weeks back, for Jim had initially withheld stuff from Karen and brushed off the matter as just a crush, she had eventually seen through him. And as much tiring as those weeks of talking it out were, the kind of understanding and patience Karen had showed had touched him. He had told her he wanted to move on, told her that he wanted to be with her, and none of that was a lie. He couldn’t imagine it otherwise; he didn’t have the energy to.

His brother had told him once that people move on from someone to someone, and not someone to nothing. So he had convinced himself (and Karen as well) that he could move on, he will, and now as he slid inside her, and as she moaned his name against the crook of his neck, moving on seemed like more and more of a reality.

Afterwards, as she put some coffee to brew, he put on his dress shirt and pants on and told her that he should head back, that he would see her tomorrow and that they could have a Sunday brunch. Karen smiled, nodded and moved to kiss him, but he could see the unasked question in her eyes that popped up there every time he would head back on weekend nights- why wouldn’t he stay? And why wouldn’t he every say her name while they had sex?

Jim drove back in silence, thinking about where he could take Karen to eat the next day and maybe if he should buy her some flowers. He messaged Mark to meet him for a game the next morning, because somehow, he knew that he won’t get much sleep tonight. Hopefully, he will feel less scattered tomorrow.

**

Pam spent the rest of the weekend and most the next week prepping for her art show. She was genuinely excited about this, as this was the first concrete thing she was putting up ever in her life, and also because this was the first concrete proof of all the things she had achieved all by herself in the pat few months- in those paintings was hidden her own story of self-discovery and second chances.

She had invited her mom, her sister Penny, and her best friend Isabelle was already helping her with printing out flyers. This was also important for her class as her tutors would be doing a round as well, checking not only on artwork but also on how well they have managed the logistics of putting up an exhibition of their own.

Pam was full of energy and hope for the entire week, feeling pumped about her work and about actually doing something for herself for the first time in her life. In times like these, she loved being single and independent, almost cherishing the way her life had toppled over in the last few months.

Nevertheless, beneath all the energy and excitement was a little nervousness of having Jim at her art show; it was like she was displaying to him all that she had managed to piece together after he had walked away from her life and left her in a state of scatter and rumble.

Would he even come to the show?

It’s not that Pam and Jim didn’t talk, she had even given him (and Karen, as they always entered and left the office together these days) a flyer and he had given her a huge smile in return, just like he had when she had told him about winning the art contest. Only this time, he didn’t hi-five her as his free arm was caught in Karen’s in a loop as she had congratulated her as well. 

Pam brushed all negative energies, though, almost convinced that of course Jim would show up, even if for a little while. He had always been supportive of her art, even in times when she had rebuffed him, and he still cared for her as a friend. So with this, Pam had invited the entire office as well, bought a fancy new outfit that fit her artist avatar, and found herself happier and more energised than she could ever remember.

Her show was scheduled for the Friday, and on Thursday night as Pam packed up all the stuff for the show and put in the trunk of her car, she felt almost impatient to call Jim and ramble on about how excited yet anxious she was. It wasn’t that she did not have other people to talk to, but sometimes she just missed talking to Jim, for he understood her in ways that no one else ever had or ever could.

Sighing, certain that she would not call him, almost laughing at herself and muttering high time you did though, Pam tiredly fell into her couch and put on Dazed and Confused as she watched the all-too familiar scenes with a glass of wine, preparing for a night through which she was sure to get very little sleep. Hopefully, the next day would go just as she had imagined.

**

Jim was surprised, but glad that the documentary crew did not ask him about Pam’s art show. Maybe they were too preoccupied with his vampire prank, and he had to admit that he had done a good job distracting at them, but the truth was that he was just distracting himself. Because, oh man, he wanted to attend the show so bad.

But the past week hadn’t been amazing for him. Karen, he felt, had finally begun to reach the end of her patience and had started to straight away ask him when was he going to come around, or even if he was ever going to come around at all. Phyllis’ wedding, along with Karen putting him on the spot, had just left him unnerved, and frustrated. So frustrated! It made him angry at himself that even after working so hard towards building a new life and quitting old ways, all it takes is one look from her, a look that he couldn’t even fully decipher but which still pained him in unfathomable ways, just one look to push him reeling back into thoughts he had painstakingly stored away into locked corners of his brain.

And so Jim was struggling this week, struggling to assure himself and assure Karen that it’s alright, it’s just a phase, and that he isn’t falling back but only faltering a little. He told Karen he was quiet in the office because work was stressful too, but to see Pam happy and excited and energised and not being able to share that with her broke Jim. He had waited for these days, as much as he had waited to be with Pam, for he had always been her cheerleader, and not be able to do that when she most needed and deserved it made him feel pathetic.

Karen had very graciously offered that if he wants, they go could go to the show for a bit. But after seeing Pam’s hopeful eyes as she had handed him the flyer, Jim instantly knew that this was a big no. He wouldn’t be able to do it, and while it’s selfish, it killed him to even imagine going to that show like a casual visitor, saying a hello and coming back after a small chit chat. It would kill him to be there and not be able to hold Pam, tell her how proud he was of her, assure her that he would always stand by her, look into her eyes and promise her everything.

He couldn’t do it. He had to stay away. Jim always knew that with Pam, it was either all in or all out, and while being friends with her recently was certainly better than being strangers, it still pained him to not be there for her in ways he wanted to be.

He knew it was a selfish move to ditch her show, but he had no option. He could not simply afford to fall back in that dreaded cycle. Moving on, remember? It takes tough decisions like these to do that stuff.

But he was still aware that Pam really wanted him to come, so the least he could do was apologise to her. Karen had left early today for a sales call, and he was to meet her directly at her place. Jim had made a lot of plans for the weekend, and while it was mainly to make up to Karen, he also knew that it was also to keep his mind from wandering desperately to thinking about Pam’s show and how it went.

He strolled towards the reception desk at the end of the day; Pam instantly looked up and Jim’s apology died in his throat as she beamed up at him. She was wearing a hint of makeup, her eyes gleaming against the light brown of her lids.

“Hey, Beesly”, he said, casually tapping the desk with his fingers and trying to calm his nerves. “Um, good luck for your art show”, he said quickly, scared that his voice would give away.

He saw her smile falter a little, but then she grinned again. “Thanks, Jim. Um”, she hesitated, looking inquiringly at his face. Jim stood silently there for a moment, almost planning to dump every thought of moving on and taking her hand and going to the show with her and kissing her at the end of the night.

 “You are…?” she was trying to ask him if he'll be there, biting her lips nervously.

Oh god, when will all of this get fixed?

“Yeah, no, we won’t be able to make it”, he heard himself saying, instantly wincing at his own choice of words. He took in a sharp breath as he saw Pam positively deflate, her eyes falling back to the computer as she uttered a small ‘oh’.

“Pam, I am really sorry”, he leaned in a little. “We…I mean, I have this thing to go to and I just couldn’t get out of it, you know? I am sorry.”

“No it’s okay”, she said, almost cutting him off and she was smiling again, the way she used to smile when Roy would half-heartedly tell her that she looked nice, the smile which signified that she had given up on hoping, on dreaming, and was yet simply sailing through life. “It’s anyway not a big deal, you know. Don’t worry about it”, she said, waving her arms awkwardly.

I cannot let her feel this way. Ugh.

“Hey, it is a big deal. It is a really big deal.” Jim was glad that she held his eyes for a moment, wishing that his eyes would tell her everything that he wasn’t able to. “You will do great, Pam. I am sure.”

She smiled a little, nodding and then looking away again. It took all of Jim’s energy to not give in, which only reminded him of how imperative it was for him to skip the show in order to be able to do anything even remotely resembling moving on.

“Good luck, Beesly”, he said, taking his coat and looking back at her once. She had already turned her chair and was picking up some stuff from the floor. Jim waved at her back and left.

But even as he walked to his car, he was still hoping a little that she would come running after him, demanding him to come with her to the show come what may. Maybe if she had, he would have given in.

**

Pam had sat still and started at the wall behind her desk for an unknown period of time before Oscar tapped at her desk, making her jump.

“Hey, all set for the evening?”

She forced a smile. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Cool, I will see you there, Pam! Cannot wait!” he said, leaving her alone in the office to wind up and lock up.

Pam took in a huge breath as tears made their way even as she tried her best to sniff them back.

Not today. Today is not about him, it is about you and your dreams and your hard work.

But how could he ditch this? Could he not have even dropped by for 10 minutes? Is this what we have become?

As tears gushed back at this thought, Pam gave in and sobbed at her desk. Crying soothed the pain in her chest that had started the moment Jim had told her that “we” couldn’t make it." Pam wasn’t the jealous type, but this had ignited a mix of jealously and embarrassment in her. But then he had looked at her in a way she missed every day, with those unwavering eyes that reminded her of a ship deck, of a parking lot, apologising and reassuring her with the same earnestness and singularity in his voice as when he had told her that he loved her, that he wasn’t drunk.

And Pam had dared to hold his eyes, to ask him how he could forget her so easily. She saw a hint of remorse in there, a bit of desperation as he apologised, and Pam wanted to break right in front of him and beg him to come to the show, tell him that she has dared to do all of this only because of him, and that all of it would lose meaning if he isn’t a part of it.

Pam’s phone rang, and she was thankful for Isabella to pull her out of the spiral.

Not today. Today is about you.

“Hey, I am almost here! You done?”

“Yeah, I will be down in a minute.” Isabella was taking a cab till the office so that Pam could drive down to the venue with her and they could together set up her stall.

Pam met Isabella downstairs in a few minutes, and soon the energy of the evening was rubbing off on her again, the pang in her chest almost forgotten. In no time, Pam and Isabella were setting up her corner, meeting with the people in the stalls around them, Pam was introducing her classmates to Isabella, and as she caught a couple of eyes going appreciatively over her art and even a couple of guys checking her out, she breathed in, unfamiliar to feeling great about herself.

People soon began to trickle in, and Pam saw faces from her class as well as the office show up, everyone greeting her, Michael making an overenthusiastic comment about her new outfit, Kelly and Ryan giving her a huge thumbs up, Phyllis taking her in a hug while admitting she didn’t understand art, and Kevin going for the food after congratulating her. Surrounded by mostly positive energies and her family, Pam felt a strange kind of nervous happiness taking over her, a small voice in her head telling her that it’s all okay, that she’s doing alright, that it’s all going as she had planned.

Yet, even as she remained occupied with guests, teachers and classmates, her eyes kept moving towards the door, still hoping a little that he would walk in a little late and tell her that he was sorry. She knew he wouldn’t, but she kept a check on the door anyway.

***

Pam sneaked into the washroom as the evening began to wear her down a little. She wasn’t used to getting so much attention, of being appreciated so much- even Roy had shown up for god’s sake, nope, she wasn’t used to this!

And the one kind of attention she could use never really walked in through the door, and honestly, she had even given up on the hope now.

She fixed her side pony in the mirror, only to find Isabella exiting one of the stalls.

“So, how’s the artist doing?!” Isabella beamed in a cheerful voice. When Pam just laughed, Isabella continued. “You have done so well today, Pam! You should be proud. Come on now, we should go out and celebrate after.”

“Izz, I am too tired.”

Isabella glared at her; she knew quite well that physical fatigue was so not why Pam was backing out.

Pam gave in under her stare and sat back on a small bench next to the hand-dryer. “I really thought he’d show up, you know”, she muttered, almost to herself but loud enough for Isabelle to catch on. She settled next to her and put an arm around her shoulder.

“I know, and it sucks. But this, what you have done today, it’s so much bigger Pam. You have been waiting for this day, been working so bloody hard for it. And this is only the beginning. Come on, you deserve to celebrate today.” When Pam simply nodded at that, Isabella nudged her. “Also, kid you not, you look quite sexy today.”

Pam laughed, nudging her friend back. “Thanks, Izz”, she said, rolling her eyes.

“I am dead serious. Now come on out there and live your day.” She gave a quick squeeze and left, knowing Pam would need a moment.

Pam smiled as her friend left and got up to take a look at herself in the mirror.

I do look good today.

She had straightened out her hair and slicked it into a neat side pony to look professional, and that gave her face a nice framing. He little diamond studs sparkled against the dark tones of her outfit. The purple turtleneck and the body-hugging black tunic gave her a very chic look. Pam quickly retouched her makeup, putting some lip gloss and a light layer of blush, twirling her charm necklace as she stared at her reflection.

Izz is right. This is my day.

She went out and spotted a small gathering around her stall. Her mother came up next to her, pulling her in a huge hug. “I am so proud of you, baby.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“And that tunic looks great on you.”

Pam laughed. Yes, she was still a kid who took outfit advice from her mom. They both looked at each other smilingly for a moment, and Pam could see that her mom was about to ask about Jim but decided against it- and Pam was so thankful for that.

“So, what’s your plan after?”

“I think I will go out with Izz and people from the office”, Pam answered, sighing even as she said this. Her mother gave her a last hug and said goodbye.

Pam turned back to her stall, and Oscar met her with enthusiasm. “Your stall is crowded, Pam. Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Oscar. Where’s Gill?”

“He’s at your stall, he loves your work.”

“That’s so sweet”, Pam said, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad all of you came. It feels so good.”

“Oh come here, I want you to meet someone!” With this, Oscar dragged her towards the bar.

**

Plans of having an elaborate meal with Karen to keep his mind away from all the dangerous thoughts had worked well for Jim until desserts arrived and Karen decided to ask a few questions before plunging into her chocolate cake.

“So why did we skip the art show today? Everybody from the office is there.”

Jim could feel Karen’s eyes on him as he simply shrugged in response, twirling his spoon around his mint and vanilla ice-cream.

“Jim?”

He couldn’t remain silent forever. “I just didn’t feel like going”, he said, with another noncommittal shrug.

“And why not?”

He knew Karen could be very persistent. “Oh come on, Karen. You know why.”

“No I don’t. All this week you have been telling them that you are moving on, that what we have is great, that…”

“Well that’s true, I mean didn’t we just have a romantic meal together?” Jim could sense the exasperation creeping into his voice, knew that he was again testing Karen’s patience, but this is the last thing he wanted to talk about right now.

“You make it sound like a task”, she muttered, and then sighed. “Jim, I just want you to be honest with me. We are in this together.”

This is what made Jim feel absolutely pathetic about himself, of how amazingly understanding and helpful Karen was, and yes, she deserved his honesty, but how could he give her that when he wasn’t able to make sense of his own feelings?

He could try. “Listen”, he said, looking her in the eye and lightly taking her hand. Her eyes were bright and hopeful. “This thing with Pam, it was huge, and I shifted because of that and everything, but above all, she used to be my best friend. And that’s not there anymore. It can’t be. So it’s weird, you know? To be at stuff which is important to her. It doesn’t have anything to me being hung up or anything.”

This was largely true, Jim told himself, if only he ignored the fact that when it came to Pam, the friendship and the love had never been two separate things; somehow, around four years back, Jim had become best friends with the woman he loved and had fallen in love with the woman who was his best friend all at the same time, but this was not something he or Karen had to go into right now.

Karen nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Thanks.” Jim bit back that huge sigh of relief and went back to his ice-cream.

Just then their phones beeped at the same time, and that only happened when there was a text from someone from the office.

Yes, it was from Oscar, and Jim knew before he even read the message that this evening was turning out to be the exact opposite of what he had planned.

Poor Richard’s, 11pm, Pam’s art show after party- drinks NOT on her!

Karen immediately looked at him. “Come on, we can definitely go for this. We anyway didn’t drink with our dinner.”

Jim fought back the urge to run away from everything. “Sure, let’s go.”

**

Pam stood at the bar, and looked at the small group at her art stall. There was Gill standing with another man; while Gill, as usual, looked at the paintings with a deeply focussed eye, the other man was roaming his eyes all over the wall as if trying to make sense of it. He had a small smile playing on his lips that Pam found oddly amusing. He was quite tall, she noticed, almost Jim’s height.

“He’s straight”, Oscar whispered to her, “and single”, he added, with a huge smirk.

Pam could imagine herself turning red at being caught checking out a guy, and quickly defended herself, “I was not…um.”

“Oh come on Pam, don’t be silly. We wanted him to meet you. He’s a friend of Gill’s and Gill thinks he would be great for you.”

Before Pam could even protest, Oscar was calling Gill and his friend over to the bar. Pam silently wondered when had Oscar and Gill become her wingmen. Then she thought they were definitely better than having Kelly in that position.

“Pam, Pam, Pam, wonderful work. I am becoming a fan, I believe. Slowly but steadily.” Gill greeted her with a fancy kiss on the cheek, “and may I add, you look beautiful.”

Pam grinned. It was always flattering to have Gill fawn over her like an elder brother. “Thanks Gill, you are too sweet.”

“Oh, and this is my friend”, Gill quickly moved to reveal the tall guy. “Paul Bernard.”

Paul smiled at her, and Pam easily shook hands with him. He had a warm, inviting smile. “Bernard, eh?” She couldn’t help herself and a little giggle escaped her lips. Before she could explain herself, Paul cut in. “Oh yes but I am in no way related to the guy serenading at the sandwich table there”, he quipped, sharing a look with Oscar as they looked over at Andy surrounded by a group of old ladies.

Pam laughed. “Good to know. So how are you liking the show?”

“Um”, he said, moving a little closer and running his index lightly over his brow. “I have to admit, I have only checked out your work, and I was quite floored.”

“Oh come on! Did Gill tell you to say that?”

Gill quickly drew back and announced, “I have no doing in this. Let me tell you Pam, this guy here is a little bit of an artist himself.” Pam saw Paul laugh and duck his head from the corner of her eye. “Anyway, we will leave you kids to it.” Gill and Oscar smartly exited, and Pam began to get a little awkward- she hadn’t done this in ages, except that stupid blind date Kelly had taken her to, and this Paul guy looked way out of her league.

But Paul was quick to bat the awkward silence. “Can I get you a drink? I am sure you have been neck-deep in work all day.”

Pam appreciated how he didn’t straight away get to flirting with her, and thought that if nothing else, she could surely find a friend in him. God knows that she needs one.

So they both took glasses of red wine and Pam suggested he could check out the other stalls as well. “So, what’s with you being an artist?”

Paul laughed, and Pam noticed his laugh was like a 10-year-old boy in contrast to his middle-aged, demure exterior. He was wearing faded jeans, but a checked green shirt under a dark black sweater gave him a very mature, polished look. His hair was slightly wavy, and Pam willed herself to not think of Jim’s hair while noticing how his hair similarly turned around his nape and above his ears.

“That’s just a cruel, cruel joke that my friends have going around. I wanted to be an artist, and somehow thought that would be a good reason for me to study architecture, and now I am city planner.” He ended with a light, playful bow.

“That’s quite a life story”, Pam said, feeling at once comfortable at how he humorously talked about his life.

“Yeah, so now I am a failed artist and a failed architect.”

“But a service to our nation, eh?”

Paul grinned at her, and Pam felt his eyes completely on her for this first time and felt a little strange. Well, he was good looking, and she was a woman, and this the first time in eons that a handsome man was looking at her appreciatively, who was not her fiancé or her best friend, who was not a creep, and who seemed genuinely interested in her.

Wow, I had almost forgotten what it was to simply date with no emotional baggage. Maybe this is what Jim is feeling with Karen. And this Paul is quite sexy, isn’t he?

“But I have to tell you”, Paul was saying over his glass of wine, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was floored by your work. I mean, that for a debut is amazing. And reminds me of why I can never be an artist.”

Pam laughed, warmed by how he wasn’t complimenting her art just to hit on her, like many guys (including Roy) had done during the evening. They soon found a spot to sit down and finish a second glass of wine as Paul told her how he had previously been working at Indiana before he moved on to freelancing around Chicago, and had now moved to a company Philadelphia only a week back. He had known Gill from a designers’ convention in New York a few years back, and as he was currently posted in Scranton for a project, he was renting out a floor of Gill’s apartment as a paying guest.

Pam hadn’t realised how immersed she had been in her conversation with Paul until Isabelle interrupted them, informing the duo that they all had decided to head to Poor Richard’s to celebrate. Soon everyone was carpooling as Isabelle helped Pam pack her stuff. Paul swiftly came in to help her lift some stuff, and she offered to drive him till the bar. As Isabelle gave her a wink from across the parking lot, Pam slipped into the driver’s seat, thinking that maybe this evening has turned out better than her expectations.

**

As Jim pulled into the parking lot of Poor Richard’s, he saw a huge group assembled around the empty space next to the entrance and instantly recognised them as people from the office; there was definite howling and hooting.

“What is going on?” Karen laughed, looking over Jim’s shoulder as he parked. “I guess we missed out on a fun night.”

Jim gave a short chuckle. He had been mentally cursing his already cursed destiny on the drive back, wondering how he is ending up in that once place tonight which he wanted to avoid by all means. But then he told himself that this wasn’t the art show, it was simply a Poor Richard’s hangout and only if he took it easy, maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe after a couple of beers he could ask Pam how it went, and get all of this off his chest.

They tentatively walked towards the circle, and wiggled their way into it from between Stanley and Kevin.

“Jimbo!” Michael cheered. “Right on time. Would you like to compete as well?”

“Compete in…what, Michael?”, Jim asked, the usual smirk playing out on his face as his eyes met with Pam’s- he couldn’t help this habit. She was laughing lightly, clearly amused by whatever the hell was going on here. It was dark, the lot was poorly lit, and he could only see half of her profile facing inwards, but he noticed her hair was open and straightened out.

“They are doing a dog-in-the-bone match with a beer bottle”, Oscar explained, evidently not pleased by this turn of events. “Loser buys everybody a round of beers”, he deadpanned. Before Jim, or anybody else could rationalise with this, Dwight and Andy were almost wrestling wildly in the middle of the circle.

“Okay, cut it out guys!” Jim tried, but neither of them were in a mood to give up, and suddenly the bottle went flying in the opposite direction of Jim and his eyes instantly shot up as he registered that to be the direction in which Pam was standing.

“Pam, look out!” he instantly called out, even before anyone else could register the flying bottle.

Jim saw Pam duck, a hand coming in front of her face and pulling her away from the circle as the bottle landed on the ground next to her, missing her by an inch.

Jim’s eyes passively registered the hand then go around Pam’s shoulder, his own heart rate slowing down a little to find her unhurt, but as Michal’s curses and Andy’s apologies drowned the cool late night air, all Jim could see was a man he had never laid eyes on before ushering Pam inside as she fixed her hair with one hand, the other lying lightly on this man’s waist.

Karen had to nudge Jim twice for them to move with the rest of the group and head inside the bar.

**

Pam had completely forgotten that an office broadcast message would go to Jim and Karen as well, and was even more shocked to find out that they actually showed up.

So he cannot come for the show, but he can come for the after party?

Pam hated how petty her thoughts became when it came to Jim, but even before she could really do something about them showing up and foiling her attempts of having a perfectly fine night-out, there was utter commotion and in no time a glass bottle was coming flying at her.

As Pam ducked in reflex, she heard Jim’s voice call out her name in panic; Pam instantly knew that long after the commotion has died down, much later in the recesses of solitude thought, that faint voice of Jim calling out her name in sheer panic, worry, almost longingness, would haunt her.

But in that moment, the more immediate worry took over as she felt herself being spun into Paul’s arms as he drew a hand in front of her just as she heard the bottle crack a foot away from her. Pam felt dizzy from the suddenness of it all, and felt a little tinge as Paul’s arm remained lingering around her shoulder as they walked back, only to realise soon later that she had her own arm on his lower back.

Pam blamed it on the dizziness.

Inside, Poor Richard’s was louder than usual, and as Paul narrated to Pam a story from his first day of work in Scranton, where a man on the panel had insisted that someone like Paul who had never smelt the coast in his entire life could not plan a damn city, Pam felt the light beer and happiness and giddiness and nervousness washing over like in a high school date, even as she remained acutely aware of a pair of amber green eyes fixed upon her from across the room.

She did not dare to look back. Pam popped open another beer, focussing on Paul’s unfamiliar but novel honey-brown eyes as she told him about the girl from her art class whom she hates.

*** 

“So…Pam’s with…what’s him name? Paul. And I’m with Karen. And, uh, Brangelina is with Frangelina. Moving on.” Jim rolled off the words with practiced humour as the camera crew asked him about the new, tall and handsome guy who had been visiting the reception desk during lunch since the last two weeks. He wasn’t sure whether the camera caught how his smile fell flat as he let his own words echo in his head, but he was soon yawning like he did almost all the time these days and Ricky showed him some pity and let him go refill his coffee.

So Jim sat with his second coffee of the day and the month’s business magazine in the kitchen, flipping absently through the pages while thinking about the days’ sales calls. He had been in talks with a big company, and secretly wanted to close the deal with them before the big party at Wallace’s house so that he could flaunt a little- his own train of thought made him grimace, feeling like Dwight had gotten into his head and was making him do things through some witchcraft.

But Wallace had been praising his consistent sales lately, had often hinted over e-mail how Jim would be an asset to the corporate offices, and well, it wasn’t a bad deal to think about moving up the ladder and to the city. Karen was excited even at the thought of it, and as far as Jim was concerned…

I have no future here.

His own words from more than a year back echoed in his head, and he wistfully let out a chuckle at how fucking true those words were even after all this time. Jim hadn’t thought much about what coming back to Scranton would really do to him when he had moved back from Stamford; he had almost worked on autopilot, words of moving on and evolving and being in a better place playing around like muppets in his head, Karen by his arm and in his life with her brilliant smile and confident ambitions left no chink in his armour as he drove back to the place he had fled, escaped, only a few months back.

The first little chink came soon though, as she ran to him, skipping and jumping, her eyes shining with happiness; god, he had missed her. He didn’t even stop himself from taking her in his arms indulgently, letting those couple of seconds drown him in a kind of peace and warmth only she could bring to his life. But as the day rolled on, and Jim became aware of how different but still the very same things were, his autopilot was back- he couldn’t fall back into being the old Jim. And so he ditched a coffee date he would have usually jumped at, focussed all his energy on keeping his eyes away from the reception and the receptionist as Michael revealed his antics to the Stamford people, smiled under Karen’s gaze and joked with her, filling the haunting place around him with new memories and new habits.

He still doesn’t know what made him talk to Pam at the end of the day, what made him tell her about Karen, rather vaguely- he didn’t owe her anything. And yet, when it came to Pam, he always felt he owed her. When Karen him called him to join her for a drink, he knew today’s drink would not end on a see you later and she would want to take things forward. And something just made him feel a little guilty of doing that here in Scranton, a place sacred and special and her in so many ways. So he saw Pam and jumped out of his car and felt a second chink in his armour. She had looked sad and he almost told her to come for a coffee with him, that he never would deny her anything.

But in seconds, the air around him changed as Pam looked up at him with a coldness and nonchalance such a part of her face that sometimes he wanted to shake her off it and beg her to let the mask down; and he had done this once, in this same place, handing his heart to her and holding her eyes and telling her that he wants more, hoping with all that he had that she could let off her mask- and she had, for a few seconds before she said that she can’t, for half a minute when her hands were in his hair and her lips moving against his, and then she had worn it back and left him struggling to ­even breathe.

So this time, before Pam could dig in the chink any deeper and before he would be desperately trying to take off her mask once again, he wore a mask of his own and told her that he was seeing someone. And Jim had been wearing that mask every since, and now it has seeped into his face and beneath his skin, pinned itself to his entire being. Peeling any of it off would just be ­too painful.

“Hey.” He looked up from the haze of words the magazine had become to see Pam come in with her pink coffee mug.

“Hey, Beesly.”

“Did you hear what Michael pulled off at Ryan’s college?”

“Oh man, how I wish I were taking an MBA class from Michael. I would have bagged Wallace’s job by now.”

“And what would Michael be doing then?”

“Pam, he would obviously be advising the White House on what kind of paper to use.”

“Obviously.”

They laughed. Pam told him she was certain that if the opportunity ever arose, Michael would leave Jan for Ryan. Jim answered that he wasn’t sure whom to feel worse for. Pam thought he should feel the worst for Dwight.

Jim agreed and hi-fived her; he knew this would be the only conversation they would be having for the day as he headed back this desk, his thoughts already going back to lunch plans with the big client today and the toolbox Karen wanted him to pick up later for her car.

Yes, the mask had become ­him.

**

“And I swear, Pam, the salmon was raw. The salmon. How do you even leave that raw?”

Pam laughed into the phone as Paul narrated to her his horrific lunch tales with a client.

“Yeah, I found it funny too but only after I wasn’t starving. Anyway, what are your plans for the evening?”

“Actually, Michael left early, so a bunch of us are going to go to Poor Richard’s for happy hour.” Pam then added, a little shyly. “You should come.”

“Really?”

She bit down on her lip listening to how happy Paul sounded. She was taking this slow, especially when she was aware of how much Paul was into this. It still baffled her that this hep city planner was interested in her, but she had told him that she had gotten out of a lifetime of a relationship recently and wanted to take things at a certain pace (she didn’t really think it was wise to go into any other details of her decision). And boy, had he understood. He was being a perfect gentleman, doing lunch dates and movies with her, dropping her at her doorstep and kissing her goodnight. She had also told him how weird her office people were, and even though he was friends with Oscar and everybody knew about them, she would prefer him not hanging out with her colleagues (again, she left out some important details about a specific colleague).

But today, she knew Jim would be away at the fancy corporate party and she also felt that she missed Paul a little. They had to skip their lunch dates the past couple of days due to his meetings, so she braved a little and asked him out.

“Yes, Paul, really.”

“Wow.” She could sense the tease in his voice.

“Stop acting like I have invited you to my apartment.”

“Ah, how I wish, Pam. How I wish.”

“Shut up”, a nervous giggle escaped her lips.

“I am kidding. Okay, I will see you there then. Cannot wait.”

“See you.”

Pam put down the phone and her eyes flew to the back of Jim’s head almost automatically. It was like she was living in an autopilot mode- ­just go with the flow, Isabelle had advised when she had told her about liking Paul. And so she was. With Paul, and with Jim. She had let him take the lead, as usual, falling in a routine he decided for them: civil friends, cordial colleagues, sharing a joke in the morning, asking about each other’s day as they left office, denying all traces of a dull pain that settled in her body every time his eyes stayed on hers for a second too longer, ignoring the shiver she felt every time her fingers accidentally swiped his while handing him his messages and faxes. And she knew she was good at this, the denying stuff, and if that’s what he wanted, she could keep up.

He looked happy, with Karen. With his promotion and his newfound love for making sales. And she was happy, too. Paul was great- funny, charming, gentle, interesting; adored her for god knows what reason. He was the kind of guy you could fall in a routine with and still not find it boring. He was mature, liked things in control, and was such a relief for Pam after living with a man-child like Roy for years. Sometimes guilt would take over her as she would catch Paul looking at her longingly, or simply smiling at her as she wiped off pasta sauce from the end of her thumb, or even when she would catch herself looking at him in the middle of movie and missing Jim.

But autopilot was the best for now, it kept her going, the sense of status quo that her life had been missing was coming back bit by bit, and while it wasn’t the status quo she had imagined for herself a few months back when she had called off her wedding, she was still enjoying this. It was nothing like her older status quo- this was new, this was fancy, this was hers.

**

Jim couldn’t believe he was shooting hoops with David Wallace while telling him about the big-ass client he roped in. This wasn’t how he had imagined the evening to unfold, but he wasn’t complaining.

“So how are things otherwise, Jim? You okay at Scranton now?”

“Yeah, yeah. Business has really picked up there, you know.” Jim knew Wallace was hinting at his sudden move to Stamford, but he obviously didn’t want to go there, and he appreciated when Wallace simply nodded.

“And you and Karen together? She’s a really bright one.”

Jim grinned. “She is.”

“Let’s talk soon. We are moving around things here at New York, and could have something for you.” Wallace patted him on the shoulder and headed back to the party.

Jim stayed back for a while, enjoying the fresh air and silence away from all the noise of the party. He absently dribbled, thinking about what Wallace had said. Was Jim really cut out for New York? Why not? That’s what evolving is all about, right? Taking a leap, trying out new things, stepping out of your comfort zone.

Yeah, I can do this. Enough of slacker Jim. I just shot hoops with the fucking CFO. I can do this.

“Hey, big guy. Buttered up the CFO, eh?”

Jim turned to see Karen walking slowly towards him, eyeing him mischievously. “He came back all won over by you, telling me how wonderful my boyfriend is and how we both look great together.”

“Really now?” Jim dropped the ball and cocked an eyebrow at Karen as she put her arms around his waist.

“Yep. And I kind of agree with him”, she whispered against his lips and he lightly brushed her cheeks with his knuckles before she took his lips in for a kiss.

“Sorry for the mean prank I pulled at you. Sometimes you are just so easy, Halpert.”

She smiled against his lips and Jim responded with a smile of his own, pulling back and lightly kissing her jaw. A little pool of honey swam in her eyes, indicating that she was a little tipsy, and Jim held her tightly by the waist as she swayed a little. “That was really mean, you know. I was wounded, Filippelli.”

Even as Jim joked, he couldn’t help but feel a little shameful at how easily he had agreed to Karen going out with these bunch of guys, never doubting it, not even feeling weird about it, let alone jealous, as if he barely knew her. He would have never believed something like this were it…

“I guess you could punish me when you become my boss and head to New York.”

Karen had moved her hands up his back and was playing with his hair now. She looked beautiful under the floodlights of Wallace’s little rink, and sometimes Jim felt pathetic at how thankful he was for Karen to look him in the eye like no one else ever had and make him forget everything for a while.

“I am still your boss.”

She lightly nudged him. “Let’s go back, funny guy. We don’t want people to wonder.”

Jim was surprisingly having a good time at the party, and feasting on the amazing seafood being served. After networking and mingling for another hour, he found himself sitting with some salad in the corner, thinking about finding Karen and making an exit.

There’s only so much paper talk I can do.

His phone beeped and he flipped it open while nibbling on some pickled olives. It was a broadcast from Kelly.

The not so corporate cocktails!

With it was attached a blurry picture in a dimly lit Poor Richard’s, the office people gathered around the bar table, each clearly quite sloshed. Jim laughed at the caption, and out of habit his eyes searched for Pam in the hazy, pixelated mess.

And of course he found her, standing between Kelly and Phyllis, an arm from somewhere behind her draped across her neckline, tightly holding her shoulder.

Jim put down the salad and looked more carefully now. Pam was almost nestled in Paul’s forearm. He was standing behind her, his face almost hidden because of the uneven flash but Jim could see has was grinning, his other hand deftly placed on Pam’s waist.

And Pam, oh yeah, she was grinning too. Her shoulders were a little bent as Paul towered over her, and she looked positively giddy, beaming but still in a reserved, shy, Pam way. Just like she was beaming the day Jim had taken her to the rooftop and made her dinner, when she had smiled so honestly, so openly, looking ­just content.

Jim felt a chink drill through his armour at this thought, a special memory of Pam that he kept like an ancient heirloom locked away in a safe, the key to which only belonged to him, now on display to the world- that smile on her face as she stood with another man. Jim knew he made her smile, obviously. And he knew they were happy too, he had seen enough of him coming up to the office at lunch and Pam skipping out with him; in fact, a part of him was glad that at least this guy wasn’t a jerk like Roy.

But this? It felt like someone had snatched away from Jim three years of his life that were a fable of every time Pam had smiled like that ­with him, for him, because of him.

“Hey, Halpert. What you are looking at?”

Karen slumped beside him and looked at the screen. “Oh wow that looks fun! Man, don’t they all look sloshed.”

One good thing that had come out Paul and Pam’s relationship was how much more assured Karen had become about Jim and Jim moving on- actually, Jim couldn’t figure out whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, but he sure could do without the late night talks and the constant feeling of guilt nagging him.

“Yeah.” Jim had a hard time finding his voice. “Do you want to head there? This party is kind of getting lame.” He tried his best to sound breezy, his eyes aching to go back to staring at his phone and checking again if maybe he had seen something wrong, maybe that wasn’t Pam.

“For real? My agoraphobic boyfriend doesn’t want to go back and watch Sports Centre at his apartment but wants to go to another party?”

Jim fumbled, but then looked at the teasing glint in Karen’s eyes and relaxed. “I guess you are rubbing off on me”, he managed weakly with a shrug, but Karen bought it and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“You are full of surprises today. Let’s go then.”

**

Pam never drank too much with office people, but something about being with Paul made her feel safe as she bravely ordered a fourth martini.

Just like how being with Jim had made her feel safe all those years back, when kissing him chastely on the lips felt like the more natural thing to do.

“Are you sure about that?” Paul asked even as he laughed while Pam spun in her bar stool; he himself looked a little buzzed.

“Yes. I am happy.” She pulled herself closer to him. She was happy. He looked even more handsome under the dim, sneaky lights of the bar, and maybe under the influence of tequila.

“I am glad.” He pulled her in for a kiss and Pam sighed. He tasted of chocolate and beer and mint. “And I am glad I met you, God bless art.” He smiled in between the kiss, something Pam loved about him.

“God bless art indeed”, she replied, giggling and kissing him again. She felt dizzy and giddy and she hadn’t felt like this, or even allowed herself to feel like, since, well, ­forever.

And then Pam saw him, spotted him even amidst all the crowd and even when her brain was fuzzy with martinis and kisses; oh, the irony with which her past bulldozed at her was downright funny.

“Oh my God”, she whispered, ducking her head behind Paul’s broad chest and hiding behind her martini straw.

“What’s wrong?” Paul asked, looking around into the expansive crowd of the bar and then back at her with a confused smile.

“My ex-fiancé is here.”

“Oh.”

Roy and Pam hadn’t exactly left things on a pleasant note, or even cordial. Roy had reacted to her breaking off things like the oblivious baby he was, first refusing to believe she made any sense, then bellowing that he was certain she had cheated on him when Pam told him about the kiss, and then finally begging her to come back and promising that he would change. He had started to call her at the office, even show up at her desk, often drunk, his pleading frequently turning into anger and shouting. And after a DUI and a drunk stunt at the office (which had propelled Dwight to pull Roy away from her and shoot him with pepper spray), Michal and Toby had asked him to quit. This happened almost six months ago, and last Pam had heard, he  was working at a gravel company.

Paul knew about this, at least enough to know that Pam never wanted to see her ex-fiancé again. But here he was, and Pam could figure out even from a distance that he was drunk. She had seen that face in her life way more times than necessary.

“He’s drunk. He will create a scene.”

Pam voiced her thoughts in a whisper, her eyes shifting between her drink, Roy and a quite baffled Paul. She felt sorry for him, for pulling him into the mess her life was. She looked at the other side to see her co-workers seated across the bar table, laughing and joking. She knew they would all come by her side if Roy tried to pull off another one of his stunts.

But suddenly Pam didn’t feel very safe. Her fanciness was wearing off, her status quo shifting, and her mind was too fuzzy to handle this. Suddenly, she missed Jim.

He always knew what to do to make her feel better.

“Well, he wouldn’t do anything in front of all these people. And I am here. We are all here, Don’t worry.” Paul carefully placed a hand over hers, and Pam nodded absently. She could see he was trying. They were both trying.

Pam tried to clear her head as she saw Roy clearly making his way towards her, an equally drunk Kenny in tow. And soon he was standing over her, and she felt herself standing too. Somewhere behind her, she felt all her co-workers quiet down.

“So you got yourself a new toy?” Pam could smell the whiskey off this breath, but his words weren’t slurry. That made Pam feel slightly better.

“Roy”, she hissed, a tone she hated on herself. “Come on, don’t create another scene. You are drunk. You should go home.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not anymore.” Pam winced at the pain evident in his voice. She didn’t want to hurt him anymore. She was almost considering taking him by her hand to a place where they could really talk this out, but then he moved closer and she saw Paul inch in closer as well.

Oh god, why is this happening to me.

Despite herself, her body stiffened, and her knees buckled as Roy towered over. “I never realised you were such a whore, Pam. At least properly mourn our fucking ten-year relationship.”

“Hey, watch it.” Paul’s voice was surprisingly controlled and calm, and he was moving towards Roy before Pam shot him a look. “Paul, please, let it be. I can handle this.” She just did not feel comfortable Paul handling for her a fight with Roy, because he didn’t belong here, he didn’t know anything about this. He didn’t know her.

“Aw, Pammy’s got herself a new bodyguard.” Roy got distracted for a moment in taking in Paul, but then spun back to Pam, this time grabbling her arm. “Have you slept with him yet?”

“Oh come on Roy, stop being disgusting.” More than scared, Pam was simply feeling embarrassed at this, as if a façade she had built in front of everybody, in front of Paul, of a fancy new everything, was coming right apart.

But then Roy pushed her against the bar, stumbling both of them across the stool behind her as Pam felt a sharp jolt of pain hit her spine, her mind going numb for a second before Roy’s nails digging in the skin of her arms making her yelp in pain.

And then there was a moment of commotion as everybody stood and moved and shouted and pulled and pushed as Pam saw Jim; he appeared in front of her eyes as if out of thin air. He was pulling off a slumped Roy from the stool in front of her, his face twisted in anger and agony when their eyes met, and Pam broke in an ocean of sobs as he took her in his arms.

And in that moment, as his arms went around her waist as if they had no place else to be, her body melting against his, breathing in a scent she hadn't in centuries, even as everything fancy she had built crumbled around her, Pam felt her status quo finally getting restored.

*** 

Jim sat in his living room, his back against his couch and legs spread across the carpet as he nursed a deep bruise on his left cheek with an ice pack. Karen had left a few minutes back; she had insisted on staying but Jim really needed to be alone right now so he told her that he was fine and tired and she should head back; it had been a long day for both of them.

Such a long day.

When Jim had started to drive back from New York to Poor Richard’s, all he had in mind was this inexplicable desire to just see Pam. The picture and that smile and a couple of beers in his system had just left him feeling unnerved and impatient, and while going there and seeing Pam get cosy with her boyfriend might not be the apt solution, he just needed to see her. He’d gulp down a few more beers, tell himself to suck it up, and call it a night.

But when he reached there, Karen and him weaving their way through a crowded dance floor, he heard a yelp kind of sound that sounded like Pam’s and he almost ran through a throng of people. Jim didn’t remember much of what followed; he saw Roy pushing Pam against the bar, people gathering around them as he heard Karen gasp next to him, and Jim almost flew with anger he had rarely felt before surging through him as he roughly pulled at Roy even as he was already stumbling, clearly drunk.

And then Jim’s first instinct was to just beat him up, years of frustration towards him supplying his body with all the adrenalin required, but then he looked up at Pam, and, oh god. She looked distraught; her eyes were glazed with tears, her lips quivered, her face contorted and scared and confused and she looked at him with such an ache written all over her that Jim forgot about everything else and did what he always wanted to do every time even the slightest worry touched Pam- take her wholly in his arms and tell her that it’s okay, that he’s here.

She instantly felt small and curled up in his arms, and Jim’s heart soared and dropped all at the same time. She was sobbing, tears feeling wet against his shirt, her arms clawing at his back as her body shook, and Jim couldn’t help himself as he kissed her hair as told her not to worry, as his arms tightened around her waist, his own throat filling up, his body was still registering even midst all of this that Pam was this close to him. But soon Roy was back up on his feet and had Jim by the collar and even before Jim could react, he felt a punch hard across his cheek in between expletives and accusations of stealing “my fucking fiancé.”

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose as he remembered seeing Pam shout at Roy, something he had never seen before, even as people fussed over him. Karen was right there with an ice pack within seconds, and by the time Dwight and Michael took Roy away with the bar’s security and Pam made his way over to him, Jim was sitting on a stool with Karen’s arm around him as she worked on his cheek.

“I am really sorry about this. You can press charges if you want.” Her voice was flat, and god knows Jim would never forget the look on her face; she looked empty, vacant, like someone had woken up from a deep sleep and had informed her that all her life had simply been a long, elaborate dream. A lie. A prank.

Jim had only shaken his head in response even as Karen asked Pam how she was doing. But all he could do was stare at her, willing her to look back at him and meet his eye, but when he noticed that she purposefully avoided looking at him as Paul appeared to drive her back home, Jim realised that she was doing it again. She was running away, not acknowledging what had happened before he had been punched by that fool, denying that those few moments in which they had held each other meant more than anything, meant everything.

Jim let out a frustrated sigh as the ice melted against his cheek and a fresh jolt of pain shot through his temple. Was he just supposed to forget that and move on? Again? The autopilot he had been working on since he arrived back at Scranton had effectively been drilled through in those few moments in which Pam held him as if her life depended on it; and then she was gone, disappearing like she had only ever belonged in his fantasies.

He felt like he was dozing off right here on his living room carpet with the pain and the never-ending thoughts making his brain absolutely exhausted, but then he heard a knock on the door and only hoped it wasn’t Karen; he just wanted to be by himself right now.

He opened the door to find Pam standing there, still in her work clothes and huddled in an oversized coat, her face stained with tears and her eyes bloodshot.

“Pam?” He wanted to take her in his arms again, reassure himself that this wasn’t a fantasy. Did she drive here?

“Hey.” Her eyes brimmed with tears and her voice croaked. “Is Karen there?”

Jim shook his head silently. She simply kept looking at him as tears trailed down her cheek, and Jim was about to say something, ask about why she was here, tell her that she shouldn’t have driven till here; anything to make her from stop crying.

“I am so sorry, Jim. I am so sorry for this. This is all my fault. I am so, so sorry.” She blurted out in between sobs.

“Hey, hey, come on”, Jim took her hand and almost dragged her inside the door as she continued to look at her feet, sobs and apologies tumbling out of her uncontrollably.

“Shh, Pam, it’s not your fault. I am okay, trust me.” He closed the door behind her and bent his head to try and meet her eye. He held both her hands in his as she looked up a little, looking almost scared. “Hey, Pam, it is not your fault. Get that? I am okay. Stop crying.”

“You look terrible”, she was roaming her eyes over his face now, her lashes heavy with all the crying.

“Um, thanks?” Jim said, trying to sound breezy, giving her a weak smile. She reciprocated, her hands tightening around his.

“God, Jim. What is happening. How did I let this happen? I can’t even…I have hurt you. Again.”

Jim was taking time to process her words. As usual, Pam was vague, and she was also crying so her words were incoherent. But this was the first time ever since that dreadful night last May that she was speaking to him, telling him how she felt, and Jim was scared to interrupt her. He had waited so long for her to say something, anything.

“Roy, he is…I don’t even know what to say. He’s such a jerk.” She was sounding a bit angry now. “And look what he did. I hate that you got hurt because of me. I wish I could undo this, all of this, you know. Start over. I don’t know how. You are always there. You always know. But I always get it all wrong.”

She was rambling now, and Jim had to say something. “Pam, will you relax? It’s not your fault. Roy is a jerk and you don’t have to apologise for that, okay? And I will be fine.” She nodded at him, tears still gushing down her cheeks. “Come on, I’ll get you some tea and then we can talk.”

“No, Jim, I just wanted to see you.” She reached out to touch his cheek, almost interrupting his offer to sit down, lightly tracing is bruise as Jim had to try so hard to not close his eyes and sigh and kiss her palm. “I hate this”, she whispered, looking at his cheek, her voice heavy. Then she placed her entire palm against his cheek and Jim couldn’t resist leaning into it when she was looking at him with her eyes so full.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

Her thumb was moving against his cheek now, dangerously close to his lips, and Jim felt himself shift closer to her despite himself. “Yes, Pam. I am okay.”

“And you forgive me?”

He smiled. Was he even, ever, mad at her? Could he even manage doing that?

“Yes.”

She stood up and placed her lips on his and things froze for Jim, quite literally. Because this was Pam, and she had one palm across his cheek and the other hand holding onto his shoulder for support, and her lips was pressed against his as her tears fell on his cheek; she just stood there, lips unmoving, as if she was trying to remember something before she made the next move. And Jim stood as still; every nerve in his body compelled him to put his arms around her and kiss her, but he was afraid to even twitch; everything around him felt like a shard of glass that would just break in the blink of an eye.

For Jim, an eternity passed before Pam pulled away, her palm falling from his cheek to his shoulder, and she continued to stare at him as she held on to his shoulders as if she would tumble right down to the floor if she let go.

Jim thought he could read every mood, every look of Pam, but this one, the one she wore right now as she looked up at him, her lips parted and her eyes heavy- he didn’t quite know what to make of it. It wasn’t the way she had looked at him at him the last time they had kissed; back then, there was a mix of desire and resignation on her face, a crumbling of her features as an internal turmoil played out transparently in her eyes right in contrast to her definite answers. But today, there were questions in her eyes, there was a slight frown creasing her forehead along with a tint of blush spread over her cheeks; today, Pam looked at him in a way that made it easier for Jim to not lean in and kiss her back; today, Pam looked at him in a way that reminded him of every time that he had put it all on the line, gave his heart to her in words or through his eyes, and every time she had tugged at his feelings and let it go like a top-spin, leaving him whirling and falling around all by himself; today, Pam looked at him with a confusion and restraint that reminded him of every time she had met him ­right there, halfway, and then fled.

So even as she stood there, inches apart from him, her breath on his lips and eyes boring into him, telling him all he had ever wanted to hear, Jim stood his ground and waited for her to say something, do something.

It’s your turn, Pam. Please.

But then her head fell, her palms around his shoulders loosened, and her own shoulders slumped as she whispered, so low that had Jim not been focussing on her like she was the axis of his existence, he wouldn’t have heard her.

“We need to stop doing this, Jim. We need to stop hurting each other. Hurting other people.”

What did that mean? She has to give me more than that.

It was a few seconds before Pam drew her hands back across her chest and looked up, tears drying up under her eyes now, and Jim saw her mask slowly taking form again as she defiantly slanted her chin away from him and looked somewhere in the direction of his living room.

“I mean, you are happy, with Karen, you both are right for each other. Not like me and Roy. No, you guys fit”, she was speaking slowly, but her words were coherent and cleat, and Jim sighed, his body slumping a little.

Here we go. Again.

“You guys are happy, and I am happy for you. And Paul is nice. He is great, actually. He gets me. And things are easy with him, you know. Comfortable. Not complicated. But with you…it’s just.”

She faltered, and Jim stared at her with bated breath even as she refused to look at him. The silence in the room smelt like stale butter and spoilt milk, making Jim feel dizzy and nauseated.

“It’s difficult. We always mess up. It’s just, it is so late. And we are happy now. And we shouldn’t hurt anyone anymore. Paul doesn’t deserve this. Neither does Karen.”

Jim wanted to throw up.

“Maybe even Roy didn’t.” She said this with something like regret in her voice and Jim wanted to shout at her.

“What are you saying, Pam? What are you doing?” He couldn’t hide the pain in his voice, and saw Pam flinch.

“See, I have hurt you again.” She still didn’t look at him, but simply closed her eyes.

Jim simply shrugged. He wanted to tell her that she was a coward and that all this could be fixed, and he still loved her, but he simply shrugged. “You should go back home, Pam, it’s getting late.”

“You are right.” She sounded dazed. Then she quickly turned, looked at him for a long second, and then headed towards the door. “Goodnight, Jim.”

Jim slept off on the carpet that night.

**

Pam remembered how she had told the camera once that she was uncomfortable even at the thought of Al-Qaeda disliking her, that if they would get to know her, they would probably like her.

She laughed at how stupid that sounded, at how utterly true that was. A persistent muscle within Pam just wanted everyone to be happy around her, happy with her. Maybe it came from being the elder daughter and the elder sister, the one who always ended up taking the fall and bearing the brunt to restore sanity in the house. Maybe it came from how easily she let that muscle of her grow stronger around Roy, swallowing and chewing on words and feelings lest they hurt him. And soon that muscle had become her instinct and Pam found herself blind to how she felt, her first thought always being how the other person would feel, and she would react accordingly.

And this was easy, not confronting oneself, not having a mind of one’s own, living how people who loved you wanted you to live. She would only put her guard down a couple of times in front of her mother, usually after she would fight with Roy, but then he would say he was sorry and she knew not forgiving him would hurt him, and so she would give in.

The most honest Pam could be around someone was around Jim, maybe because almost nothing hurt him, or at least he didn’t show it did. She could joke and laugh and whine for hours with him and he would always have something to say to her, to make her laugh, to look at her with eyes so tender that she forget worrying about hurting him ever and just being herself.

But soon, as her eyes had become more trained with his, she started seeing the Jim that breathed behind the jokes and the crooked smiles and cocked eyes, the Jim whose eyes softened every time he looked at her, the Jim who made himself scarce every time Roy would be around, the Jim whose breath would quicken a little when she absently dozed off on his shoulder, the Jim who shoved his hands in his pockets way more frequently around her, as if holding back a part of him.

But Pam was an expert in overlooking things, overlooking herself, overlooking anything that would tamper with the happy little world she had built where she was engaged to a good man, content with her job, used to Michael’s antics, and best friends with a floppy-haired salesman with whom she pranked around the office. Why this salesman did things to her mind and body which no one ever had was something Pam barely addressed; had it been her call, she would never address it, but sometimes he looked at her in a way that made it difficult for her to hide away in her happy little world.

And in those times, Pam fled: when his face had broken as she suggested he move and his eyes had told her that she was the only reason he wouldn’t, she had fled and hid under a joking apology; when his fingers had innocently brushed her midriff but sent jolts of sinful desire through her body, she had fled with forced anger; when he had tipped over a line she had drawn between them by saying that they had been on a date, she had fled because she had been thinking the same as she had danced with him the other night; when she had seen in his Christmas gift all the love she had ever wanted from a man bubble up in a teapot, she had fled and laughed at how he hoarded things from three years back; and when he had held her eyes for an eternity on a deck as he had almost leaned in to kiss her, she had fled literally, back to her happy little world as she set a wedding date.

And the last time she had fled was on a warm night last May, when he had pierced through her farce and pulled her out from a feeling of drowning she wasn’t even aware of, and breathed air into her lungs with his words, air she didn’t realise she had been missing all these years, and she had kissed him before the muscle within her had begun throbbing like a nagging pain and had she fled again, but this time with little resolve, aching to run back to him.

And she had, not run back but slowly find her way back as sheworked against that muscle, against her entire being as she tore herself away from the façade she had started to call reality, and the next Monday, with shaky legs and a cloudy mind she was looking for him to tell him that it’s not all over and he would breathe air in her again just like he had, but he had left. He had fled. And Pam had been so busy fleeing all these years that she didn’t know what to do when the other person flees, when you are the one left behind on a lonely deck, emptiness and resignation taking over your existence and everything around ceasing to have meaning.

But now, Pam had picked up the pieces. She was the fancy new Pam, the one who did not flee, the one who stood ground, the one who put up art shows and made a new boyfriend and had her own apartment. Sometimes she felt thankful that Jim left to leave her figuring out life on her own, building a true little happy world of herself in which she could then invite him to make it happier. And she had been holding on to this strength, to this bravery that coursed through her with every new day she handled on her own terms, holding on a fancy new everything—until last night.

Last night, being fancy, well, as she told the camera crew, it sucked. Being fancy just sucked. The old Pam would have never caused so much trouble around her, shaken up so many things, three men hurting all because of her. She hated this feeling, of things being all haywire, of people looking at her with a weird mix of sympathy and accusation. She hated being the one to hurt Jim, to feel such distance and apathy from him.

She had been purposefully avoiding him all through the day today, the events of last night making her turn red even at his sight. Oh god, what have I done? What was with me yesterday? First, she caused him a punch from Roy, then she went and kissed him, and then fled his house like a scared puppy. Although Pam hadn’t dared to look at Jim after stupidly kissing him, because she was certain that if she did, she wouldn’t be able to not kiss him properly and tell him that she loves him and everything else is a sham and let’s screw it; yet, she could feel his eyes on her, hoping, questioning, pleading. The dimly lit living room with just the glow of his lamp was eerily similar to the last time he had looked at her like that in a dark office, his wrecked face still holding a small smile as if he wanted to laugh at how much everything simple sucked.

Pam was sitting in the breakroom alone, her hands tightly wrapped around her hot mug, her mind desperately trying to find a way to undo the entire day of yesterday, or the entire 10 years of her life if that was in the deal. She didn’t even know what to say to Jim, and had told Paul that she needed some time before she could talk to him. But honestly, she just wanted to run away. This being honest and strong and fancy that she had started with few months back was taking a toll on her. If being honest and fancy gets you to such a mess, she’d rather go back to her old ways and wallow. It would be better than seeing people she cared for wallow because of her.

Jim entered the breakroom and headed straight for the vending machine, not even sparing a glance at her. Pam felt her hands tighten further around the mug.

Say something. You have hurt him enough.

“Sorry about how much yesterday sucked.” Even as she laughed a little in the end, she mentally scolded herself for sounding so casual. That was her defence mechanism with Jim, that is what they had been doing for years- laughing it all off. But this time he barely laughed back, only breathed out a half hearted “yeah”; his back towards her taunted her, as if the world had turned its back to her and no matter what she would do or say now, it’s all gone. Her chance is gone.

“That was nuts”, he was saying, still not looking at her. He bent down to pick up some chips as he muttered, “I am not pressing charges, so don’t worry.”

Pam sniffed back tears threatening to gush again. “That’s not what I am sorry about. I mean…of course, I am sorry about that too. But, I meant, about…”

Normally, Jim would help her out. Turn around, look at her with a mischievous grin, teasingly ask her where she left her speech devices this morning, tell her to relax, and they would soon be laughing, and all would be forgotten.

Not anymore, though. The careful shield that had been built by both of them around their friendship had so ruthlessly been battered now that things inside were barely recognisable.

Now, Jim simply leaned against the vending machine with one of his palms pressed across the metal. Pam could see his knuckles go a little white, and she stammered as she continued. “I am sorry about showing up at your house like that. I mean, what was I thinking, right?”

Come on, Jim. You have to help me out here. You know me, I am terrible at this.

It seemed like the longest second of her life before Jim turned, not meeting her eyes as he said, “Yeah, what were you thinking.” He was smiling, the same way he had smiled when she had told him with a nod that she was going to marry somebody else.

“Jim”. She croaked as she saw him leave. The bruise had made a purple dent across his cheek and she ached to reach out and touch it. She stood up and walked towards him as he reluctantly and very slowly turned around. “I am really sorry. I didn’t mean that to happen.”

She could hear his jaw clench. “Then what had you meant to happen?”

“I had just wanted to say sorry. Make sure you are okay. I didn’t want to lose you again.”

He was shaking his head at her tumbling words, as if whatever she said was gibberish to him, and stepping back.

“Wait, Jim. Can you forgive me, please?”

“Yeah, oh yeah, don’t worry about it.” He shrugged, his lips turning down in an arch like they so often did in front of the camera.

“So we are good?”

“I guess.” A shrug, again, and he was gone.

Nothing was good. It all simply, royally, completely sucked.

**

The office felt even more suffocating today, and Jim hadn’t thought that would ever be possible. He thought that he had seen the worse, and things couldn’t get downhill from here, but today seemed like the longest and the shittiest days of all.

Well played, universe.

His entire face ached; a bit because of the bluish bruise which sat tauntingly at his cheek and which had in one blow reminded him of so many things he had tried to bury away; a bit because of the constant state of frown and clench his face was in, trying to hold back anger and tears and mirthless laughter all at the same time; but mainly because of how his entire being had felt deprived and abandoned, all over again, since she had fled his house last night. Left him, again.

Jim hadn’t thought that he would ever again feel as absolutely wrecked as he had felt in May, when she had all but thrown his feelings away after having him so close, with her hands in his hair like he had so often fantasised. But yesterday, it was worse.

Yep, really well played, universe.

Yesterday sucked. Yesterday, she had no marriage holding her back, and he had no transfer to run away to. After yesterday, they were right back in the office as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn’t held him like a last hope less than twenty-four hours back, as if he still couldn’t feel the warmth of her lips on his and her tears on his cheeks. After yesterday, they sat five feet away from each other and stewed in unsaid agonies, exchanged hollow apologies and some gibberish about how crazy things were.

He had told Karen he was really stressed and off today, and he would talk to her soon. She was miffed, but maybe the gruesome looking cheek of his prevented her from being downright angry. Jim didn’t even know how much time he needed before he could resume his precious autopilot. Last time it had taken him almost a month to even begin to feel normal again; this time, he didn’t think he had the energy left in him to care that much. He already felt drained.

Then he heard shuffling behind his back; his eyes involuntarily shifted to his computer screen to catch her reflection. She had a nervous, almost shameful smile on her face.

The he heard his voice, a deep hesitant baritone. “Hey, can we go for lunch? Just for a little while.”

“I don’t know if it’s a good time, Paul.” She said it so softly, in a hushed whisper, that Jim was certain that no one except his trained ears would have heard her. Him, and Paul, whom Jim could now see slightly leaning over her desk. The ache on Jim’s face suddenly increased.

“Come on, I just want to talk. We can talk about the weather and the latest MasterChef episode if you like.” Jim thought he heard Pam giggle, and then he heard a small “okay.”

He yawned. Yep, he was tired and drained, and everything just sucked.

***

He was wearing black, his face freshly shaved, his hair slightly floppier than usual. And she was happy and a bit intoxicated, and whenever she felt that way, she wanted to be around him, because he just made her happier by being there. When he had looked at her from across the poker table with mischievous and challenging eyes and an adoring smile, she had felt the giddiness inside her take a hike, her eyes and lips flirting on their own accord. Sometimes, she now recalls, she used to let herself imagine that they are actually flirting, and this is life and they will sneak out the office after a while and head home together.

She had caught him approaching them from the corner of her eye as she laughed at something Roy said, and even when his head was bowed and his goodbye to Roy a mere mutter, she felt giddy all over again at his sight. Maybe she could lull him back into some poker and pretend for a while more. It bothered her how comfortable she was playing such a charade with him almost every day, as if the sheer pain and betrayal that lay beneath the desire of this charade was not destroying her happy little world.

But she had mastered the art of pushing these thoughts away and skipping to Jim and teasing him about losing money, hoping he would shoot back with some banter and eyes full of love and a smile he flashed only for her. But he looked hesitant, almost grim, his voice faltering, his smile uneven, and so Pam joked again, because sometimes in her charade Pam forgot Jim was human too. She almost did not allow him to choose any lines or scenes of this charade, afraid that he might want to end it, that he might opt out of it and force her to face the crashing reality. So she did what she always did and continued to joke and keep the tone of this drama in her hands, but then he looked at her with his eyes fixed upon her eyes with such unwavering focus that she forgot all the rules of the charade and stared back at him.

“I am in love with you.”

“What?”

Jim might have ended the charade, but she clung to it, clung to pretending that she had no idea where that came from, clung to pretending that she didn’t see those words in his eyes every day.

He said something about bad timing and needing to know and she continued pretending.

“What are you doing? What do you expect me to say to that?”

These aren’t your lines. This isn’t our play. And she did not know how to pretend anymore.

“I can’t.”

It had been years since Pam had made a decision for herself, where she wasn’t being told what was the right thing to do, and now Jim was crying and it felt wrong to tell him that he was misinterpreting things but Pam’s hands had found her engagement ring and this was no more a charade.

He was walking away. Curtains were down, it was all out in the open and it was all over.

Pam was awake now. She had stopped counting how many times she dreamt of that night, or of how many times memories of that night downright invaded her brain. She had stopped noticing how it left her, every damn time, with goosebumps and an ache in the pit of her stomach.

And yet, she willed herself to continue to remembering, of pulling herself away from the weight of her ring and calling her mother, of being stumped on being asked if she loved him too and on finally breaking down as she had said that yes she does. Pam could still remember how liberating it had felt to say something only for her own self, it had felt as it was after years that she had finally spoken some truth.

Pam turned under her comforter, closing her eyes to remember how that tiny feeling of empowerment had disappeared as she had seen Jim walk through the door, her mind going blank as she simply uttered his name before he had kissed her.

Pam stroked her arms, her finger tracing the hollow of her neck as she remembered his arms around her waist, his fingers brushing the sides of her breasts as she had almost melted into his embrace. With the feeling of his soft hair under her fingers, she let her hands run past her body and reach under the waistband of her underwear.

She turned again and recalled his lips on hers- slow, focussed, deliberate; he had hummed and vibrated slightly as Pam had kissed him back.

She still couldn’t remember what had left her so dumbfounded, so speechless, so afraid that she did not ask him to stay, that she told him she would marry Roy even as she knew herself- the moment he had kissed her, that that relationship was over. Whether it was fear, hesitation, or the sheer unfamiliarity of not knowing how to take charge of things- she would never know. Sometimes she thought she had become so used to lying to Jim that she did not know how to tell him how she really felt. She still doesn’t. The charade still seems to be going on.

But on nights like today’s, Pam doesn’t dwell on this much and instead imagines what would have happened had she let him kiss her again. She imagines that kiss to be shorter, firmer, trailing around her neck as his arms would have finally found her hair and he would have repeated words of love next to her ear, and he would have then taken her hand to guide them outside the office, making a joke about how he doesn’t want Dwight’s bobbleheads in the vicinity when he kisses her, and she would have laughed and all would have been simply perfect as Jim would have driven her home, telling her to believe that she can, that they can.

**

It had been two weeks since Roy had attacked Jim, and he noticed in the mirror as he went about his morning routine that his cheek was finally back to being bruise-less.

Karen was neck-deep in a pool of files when Jim entered his kitchen. They shared a quick peck before Jim reached for the pot of coffee. He sat down with a magazine, finding Karen back to her files, thinking that he could get used to this life. It was almost robotic, but comfortable. No stupid emotions to deal with. It was a practical and stable adult life.

After the Roy debacle, Karen had told him they should handle this maturely, and Jim had maturely not mentioned Pam’s short visit to his house. Karen had told him that the past is best buried and they have a bright future together, and Jim had told himself that whatever Karen had decided as the future would obviously be better than his zero future plans, and so he was going to go with it.

Jim wasn’t a planner. He had always let moments and fate take him wherever they pleased, and if now the fate was in the reigns of a confident, beautiful woman who wished the best for him, he couldn’t be complaining.

“There is this safety training thing at the office today and that would keep all the morons occupied so I can finally clear all my backlog.” Karen almost muttered to herself, her eyes still busy on the files. After a second, she looked up at him and smiled warmly, “you ready to go?”

Jim nodded, and within a few minutes, they were in the car as Karen told him about the two new companies she was going to pitch to today, and Jim heard himself telling her about an overseas client he was working with.

Practical. Normal. Stable. Good. And if he tried, quite happy as well, right?

Later that day, when Kelly walked in late with earphones on and Ryan uncharacteristically jumped, betting everything in his wallet that he could guess what song was playing on Kelly’s shuffle right at this moment, a office-wide game begun and Jim thought he felt this happy after a long time as images of paper doves and yogurt lids clicked in his brain. When Kevil accosted him about the hours he had spent on the reception, it was easy for Jim to laugh it off as this was one of those days where he could pretend that most of the previous year did not happen and it was all the same, and that him and Pam would be tallying their bet earnings at the end of the day.

On some days, it was easier to forget that they couldn’t go back to that because she had said I can’t and left and then he had left and then she had left, once again, two weeks back, and now it was better letting wounds dry and forget about them rather than festering them. So he made Creed eat a potato, earned some money as Kelly cackled about Netflix, even managed to drag a reluctant Karen into these games, and tried to feel normal.

**

Today was a good day. Pam was feeling normal, and not absolutely distraught in the office, after a really long time. Maybe the last time she had felt like this was the day Jim and she had pranked Andy, and that seemed like a lifetime ago already. Who thought just a few silly bets around the office, watching Jim laugh and spare her a mischievous glance every now and then, was all it could take to make her feel less miserable?

So she almost danced her way out the office, a while after everyone had left and she had caught up on the messages piled up while saving Michal from killing himself. She was on the elevator when Paul called; they were to meet for dinner tonight at a new Moroccan restaurant he had discovered. He was calling to tell her that he was stuck in a meeting near her office, and if she could please wait so he could pick her up in about forty minutes.

Pam easily agreed, assuring him it was okay. Paul was great. During the pathetic last two weeks since Roy had pulled of the stunt and Pam had gone to Jim's place, he had been there for her as an amazing friend. And Pam was thankful for that. But she knew very well the look he wore on his face when he was with her, the one Jim used to wear for years, the one clinging on her friendship but growing sick of it. And Pam didn’t think Paul would stick around like Jim- not only because that was unfair and just unusual, but also because his project was coming to an end soon and he would be heading back to Philadelphia then. And more than anything, Pam simply could not have another heart's blood on her hands. She either had to tell him there was no future or actually, honestly try with Paul.

Because well, that chapter with Jim? That is so closed. She could see the dust gather on that chapter on her life, of them trying to find a space between workers and friends which neither of them would sway away from. And somehow, this time, closing of this chapter looked fine to her. There was too much sadness, too much past, too many emotions there. They both needed something more stable, normal, practical. And Pam could see Jim moving into this stable and practical space with Karen, and well, he looked happy. She should be too.

As Pam lingered near her car, she had a quick thought and started to walk behind the lot to check if the moon-bounce castle was still there. And it was, its silhouette grand and out of place behind the office building. And as soon as her eyes adjusted to the darkness away from any floodlights, Pam noticed another silhouette huddled at the small door of the castle.

Jim sat there, his long legs almost folded as they overflowed to the floor, and Pam noticed his tie was slightly loose and his shirt untucked, his jacket on the floor.

Had he been jumping in the moon-bounce all by himself?

Pam let out a giggle at this adorable image, and Jim looked up from his shoes that he was starting to tie up.

“Seriously, Jim?” She continued to giggle.

He looked at her for a second, as if trying to make out who she was, and then his face split open in a huge grin. Pam thought his eyes shone like crystals in the dark. “Don’t judge, Beesly. You are here too, aren’t you?” he quipped, leaving his shoes untied and looking at her with an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Well”, Pam said, shrugging, as she saw Jim shift a bit to make space for her to sit. She sat next to him, saying without thinking, “we are just too similar.” This is exactly what she had been thinking just before coming across him, and the words just spilled.

Pam hesitated quickly as she realised this, but Jim replied at once. “Yeah.” It was short, but firm and honest, accompanied by a generous nod.

He looked at her, their eyes met, then they together looked back at the moon-bounce on which they were sitting, and then together burst in laughter.

“Well, I am going in. Not going to sit here like a loser”, Pam said between guffawing and slipping off her sandals. “You think you have a round two in your, Halpert?” she asked playfully as she climbed in, and Jim followed wordlessly with a shrug.

It was so easy. All it took for them, Pam realised, to let go of all the sadness and pain and past was to just be with each other in some silly place, and the small yet significant effort to just forget. As the two of them jumped, laughing breathlessly, bumping against each other and trying to balance while falling down once in a while, Pam was trying hard to really just forget but tears stung her eyes even as she laughed.

It was dark, and she was breathless, and her wet cheeks were either unnoticeable or could just be taken as perspiration of a kind, and well, she was smiling, more broadly than she could imagine.

Jim fell back with a thud, “I am done. I am going to be thirty, Pam.”

Pam stopped and looked at the heaving figure of Jim, his hair messed, his tie knot lying loose in the middle of his chest, and she wished she could tell him he looked like a small boy when he smiled like that. Instead, she sat back on the other end, catching her own breath.

“We are old, Pam.”

“Speak for yourself, Halpert.” Pam’s quip failed as she had to cough as she spoke, and Jim barked a chuckle in response. “This was fun”, she whispered after a weird silence took over. She saw Jim nod, so added, “I haven’t laughed like this in the longest time.”

She saw Jim grin. “I think the last time I laughed this much was when Andy punched the wall.”

Too similar.

“I feel bad for him. Felt bad when he came back today.”

Pam saw Jim look at her for a second before he said, slowly, “no you don’t”, and they both were laughing again.

Silence took over again, but it was a comfortable silence this time. Pam hadn’t felt this connected and normal with Jim since…. well, since he had told her he loved her. And Pam realised that more than anything, she had missed this. Just Jim and Pam, being idiots together and getting each other in a way nobody else could. She missed their friendship.

So she asked. “So, how are you?” and even after all this time, she knew Jim would get what she was trying to do.

He did. He smiled, the Jim smile. “Hanging in there, Beesly. Paper industry is really picking up, you know?”

Yes, she missed this, so much.

“What about you?” he moved towards the centre of the moon-bounce, placing his elbows on his knees as he looked at her. His face looked relaxed, albeit a little tired. “How are your art classes going?”

Pam saw something flicker on his face as he said this, but she ignored it. “Quite good, you know. I have been wanting to do it for so long, I am really liking it.”

I want to tell you so much more, Jim. About things my professors tell me, about the new technique I learnt, about the colours I bought last week, and about how all of this is happening because of you.

“That’s great, Pam.” His voice was suddenly softer, his eyes shifting nervously as he hesitated before adding, “everyone at the office was all praises about your show.”

While he said this, he was looking away, but then he lifted his eyes to look at her with a soft smile and all Pam could do was mumble a “yeah”; tears threatened to come back- this was still hard to talk about, she was still hurt about that night, and it was getting tougher to forget that they are not just two friends catching up on lives.

Jim continued to look at her, his face growing softer and sterner all at the same time. “I am sorry I wasn’t there.”

He was whispering, almost to himself, and Pam instinctively leaned in a bit, her hands getting fidgety. The moon-bounce suddenly felt too small and compact to have this conversation. So she just mumbled his name, trying to brush away his apology, trying to act it doesn’t matter, but her voice cracked at the end of “Jim”, and she was now sure he could see the rim of her eyes well up because he frowned slightly, maybe even shifted closer to her.

She couldn’t be sure because then he was saying, “I really wanted to be there, you know”, and his voice was husky, low, soft, and still firm and collected, and dreams of a particular night that haunt Pam came back in all their glory.

“Then why weren’t you?”

She heard him swallow, audibly. He took her hands in his, softly, almost limply, his thumb barely, lightly rubbing her palm, his eyes downcast. “I am sorry.”

“No, why weren’t you Jim? I mean, you could show up to the party and not…why?” Despite herself, anger made itself evident in Pam’s voice. Jim’s touch and the sheer stricken look on his face was breaking all her resolve.

Jim took in a deep breath, looking at her warily, still holding her hand. He straightened his back and exhaled heavily. “It’s tough, okay? With everything’s that happened between us…it’s just.”

Pam felt her mind freeze and yet spin. They hadn’t talked about the 'everything that happened between us', and although Pam had imagined this conversation a million times in her head where she would just tell him what a fool she was and that she’s ready now and that I can Jim but not now, not like this. Not when he had a girlfriend and she had boyfriend and when she was trying to forget, and when she had told him some 10 days back that they couldn’t.

Yet, she asked, “It’s what?”

“It’s. I can’t just forget it.” He shrugged, pulling his hands away and lightly throwing up his arms.

“So you will just ignore me?” her voice was shaky, and she had no idea where this conversation was going or what this had anything to do with the art show, but she will take what she gets. Because she was trying to forget, and he should too, right?

“No, Pam, that’s not.” He was fumbling, and Pam was amazed how he could be so absolutely useless with words at times. He breathed in again, she could see the struggle as he shifted to his knees and rubbed his palms over his face. “I am just saying it’s tough. And you need to understand that.”

“Well, it’s tough for me too.”

“I know. I just don’t want you to hold anything against me, because I am really proud of what you are doing, Pam.”

Pam bit her lips to stop from wailing as he said this. “You are?”

“God, Pam, of course I am.” He shifted towards her as if in a hurry, now taking her hands in his fully, completely, looking her right in the eye. “I am so proud, Pam. You are finally doing all these things you love, getting what you deserve, and I don’t want you feel any less proud of yourself.”

Pam let go of the effort to stop the tears and sobbed freely. Something in her heart came undone. “Thank you. And well, you should know”, she was saying between hiccups as her own hands tightened around Jim’s, “none of this would have been possible without you, Jim. None of it. Had you not…had you not made me realise what I was missing out on, I would have never dared to take a chance.”

Jim smiled, and Pam thought she had said too much but then his hands cupped her face and his thumbs wiped away her tears and she could not find any flaw in this moment.

**

Jim nursed a double scotch on his couch on a weekday, because well, he needed it. And it was a night away from Karen, and…

Jim laughed at his own thoughts. It almost sounded like he was enjoying this night alone in his sparsely furnished room with his second drink and random news open on his computer. But he anyway could not be with Karen after what happened with Pam today.

He needed some time, and of course some alcohol, to process his thoughts.

He doesn’t know what had gotten into him that he had brought up the art show, but he was just so happy to see here there at the moon-bounce, just reminding him all over again why this woman did to him what she did. Karen had gone off for a high-tea with her friends right after Michael had climbed down, and Jim had anyway been marvelling at what a great team him and Pam make and then there she was, her face flushed as she jumped around the castle, her clip coming off a bit as her soft curls fell around her face, the sounds of her free laugh making him feel suddenly reconnected with her.

And it was tough to feel that, and Jim had given up on forgetting anyway. He knew he couldn’t, but he also realised that he did not want to cut Pam off his life, and the last two weeks had been so terrible that he almost had. But today, between betting games and jumping in a moon-bounce together, he felt a sudden jolt to maybe start over as friends – like she always wanted, and if there was one thing that he wanted to get off his chest was that bloody art show.

And god, the way her face literally broke and then she was crying. Jim had no idea he had hurt her so bad in middle of his self-preservation, and then he just had to tell her how fucking proud he was, how happy he felt every time he heard her talk about her work with confidence. He wanted to tell her so much more, but he stuck to the basics.

But never had he thought that Pam, the Pam from whom eliciting a tiny bit of reaction was a task, would open her heart to him. She had invaded his house and sort of kissed him a couple of weeks back, but that Pam ran away. Today, this Pam, she stayed as he had held her…until her phone rang.

Jim downed the remaining scotch as he remembered holding Pam, the hands around her face going slowly around her back as she had hugged him back, telling him that she has missed his friendship so much, and even though Jim had come to hate that word, he will take what he gets because at that point, it was enough.

And then he had heard her phone ring on the outside, and told her the same, and soon she was tumbling out of the castle, leaving Jim behind. He mentally cursed himself for telling her about the ringing when she peeked in to tell him that Paul was here, and she had to leave.

He had nodded, telling her to go ahead and have a nice evening.

She had lingered for a second, still peeking. “Jim?”

“Yeah?

“Really, thank you. I mean it.”

“I am glad, Beesly.” He had wanted to ask what she really means, how had he helped her, but that question seemed pointless now

She had grinned at him, her sombre face conjuring a little mischief, and he could see her eyes twinkle under the dark. “I will kill you if you miss my next art show.”

He had laughed. “Not a chance.”

And then she left, maybe with a promise of friendship this time, and Jim had felt an eerie sense of closure even as he stayed back in that castle for over 30 minutes, just making sure he’d not run into Pam and her boyfriend.

Closure and all were fine, but he was still sure that Pam and he could not be buddies all over again. It could not be forgotten- but maybe, for their own sanity, they could at least close the chapter on a good note.

Thinking this, Jim did not refill his scotch and instead had a huge glass of water and went to sleep. He dreamt of amusement parks, Ferris wheels and a moon-bounce.

***