As he crossed the Pennsylvania state line, Jim took a deep breath. It had been four months since he had been back to Scranton. Four months since he picked up and moved everything he owned to Connecticut. Well, mostly everything. His heart never quite made it inside the moving truck. No, he had placed his heart in the hands of an auburn-haired receptionist in a dimly lit office four months prior and when she didn’t take it, he couldn’t bear to pick it up off the floor. It was still hers. Probably always would be.

The Scranton city limits neared closer and he had already made the decision to take an alternate route to his parent’s house. He didn’t want to drive past Cugino’s, or Rite Aid, or Chili’s. And passing the Dunder Mifflin building was certainly out of the question. Really, he had already decided to confine himself to the four walls of his parent’s house the entire weekend. He was in the process of rebuilding himself twig by twig and running into her, seeing a wedding ring on her left hand that matched the one that ultimately had become a noose for their relationship, would surely be a burning match thrown onto the pile.

He assumed she had gotten married. He had to assume that, because if she didn't get married, she hadn't told him. And that almost hurt more, to know the roadblock that forced her to turn him away that night wasn't her fiance.

It was that she didn't want him.

He reached down and cranked the volume knob on his radio in hopes of evicting the thoughts of Pam and replacing them with...well, with literally anything else. She had infiltrated every thought, word, and action in his life as of late and quite frankly, he was just so damn exhausted from it all. He'd shed 15 lbs off his already thin frame. He went to bed at 9:00 every night only to toss and turn until 2 am. He had seen literally none of the new city he lived in. So he knew he had to find a way out of this miserable pit he was digging for himself and hoped that a weekend celebrating his little sister's birthday would help, even if he never left the house.

He pulled into the driveway of the Halpert family home and killed the engine. The window blinds at the front of the house scissored open and he saw two smiling eyes peer out of the gap. Just seconds later, the front door flew open and his sister darted toward his car, bypassing every porch step with one big leap. He stepped out of the car to greet her as she gave him a warm hug.

"Hey, big brother!"

"Hey, kid! Happy birthday! What are you, 12 now?

"What are you," she scoffed. "Dyslexic now? I'm 21."

Jim laughed. "And do mom and dad believe that you haven't had any alcohol before today?"

"Hell no," she laughed. "Perks of being the youngest, though. They don't seem to care. You three must have set a really low bar."

He smiled to himself as Larissa trotted back into the house. There were almost 7 years between them (she was a little bit of a surprise for their parents) but somehow they had always been extremely close, despite the age difference. He even took her to her senior prom after her sorry excuse for a boyfriend dumped her the day before the dance. She had rolled her eyes when he had shown up at their parents house and offered to go with her, but when they got home that night, she hugged him tightly and thanked him through teary eyes.

Grabbing his bag from the back seat, he turned toward his childhood home. Once inside, his mom enveloped him in a hug, his dad clapped him on the shoulder with a buoyant "Hi, son!" and his two older brothers lifted their chins to him in acknowledgement without looking away from the TV. He tipped a metaphorical hat to the creepy clown picture in the hallway, climbed the stairs, and dropped his bag on the floor of his old room. Everything looked exactly as it did the summer he moved out. Random trophies lining the shelves, posters of his favorite NBA players, and stacks of his old CD's everywhere. He had all the music on his phone now, but could never bear to part with the physical discs.

He picked a CD case off the shelf and sat on the edge of his bed, turning it over in his hands.

"Good Charlotte," a voice said from his doorway. "I'm sure mom is really glad that was just a phase."

Jim chuckled and tossed the CD to Larissa. "I never did quite get the hang of eyeliner anyway."

She cracked a smile and walked over, plopping herself down next to him. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"How are you holding up?" she asked softly.

Jim hadn't told many people about Pam. Or at least not the full story. His mom knew bits and pieces, he clumsily told Mark most of it after getting wasted before he moved, and he was pretty sure everyone in his life suspected something. But Larissa knew every detail. She had always told him that he was the only one in the family that didn't treat her like a perpetual ten-year-old, and that was because Jim knew she was wise beyond her years and always intrinsically knew whether he wanted advice or just a listening ear. Even as a teenager in high school, she gave better advice than any adult he knew.

"I'm…okay."

Larissa lifted her head and gave him a skeptical look.

"No, really. I think things are slowly getting better."

"But...you still miss her."

His chest tightened and he dropped his head low.

"Like hell," he choked out.

She threaded her arm through his and put her head back down on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Before he could dwell too much on exactly how much he missed Pam, their mom called them down for dinner.


Birthday dinners at the Halpert house were one of Jim's favorite things. Betsy would make all of them go around and say something nice about whoever's birthday it was, but quickly it turned into a playful roasting session that left everyone in stitches, Betsy half-heartedly scolding them though her own hiccups of laughter. For the hour they were at the table, he didn't think of Pam once, which was basically a record these days. It wasn't until Tom said he and Marcie had to leave, and he watched his brother help his wife into her coat and give her a sweet, lingering kiss when they thought nobody was watching, did he think about Pam and how much he wished he was doing those kinds of things with her.

He excused himself from the table, squeezing Larissa's shoulder as he passed her chair, and took the stairs back to his room. Out the window, he saw the sun had set and he felt the dull ache settle in his chest. When it got dark and things slowed down, that's when he was left with nothing but his own thoughts, memories, and regrets. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then slinked over to the window.

Directly outside was easy access to the roof of the garage. As a kid, as well as into his teenage years, it became his "spot". So much so, that when looking out the window, he could see a trail where the shingles were more worn than those surrounding them from all the times he had gone out to escape Tom and Pete's relentless older brother-ness, or clear his head after a tough basketball game, or to make big decisions.

He pushed the window open like so many times before, and maneuvered his way out to the roof, this time to have a quiet place to allow his heart to continue breaking for a girl that could never be his because she married someone else. The familiar scraping sound of shingles under the soles of his shoes filled his ears as he lowered himself down. The air was brisk, but the sky was clear, revealing the glowing stars above him. It was quiet out, still and calm, and he looked out over the neighborhood he grew up in, lit up by streetlights. So much of who he was, was built on these streets, in this house, and on the very spot he sat. He just wished he could share it with someone. But not just anyone, he admitted to himself. Her. It's always her.

He heard a small tap on the window and turned his head to see Larissa standing there with two beers in hand and a shrug/smirk combo that was the classic one-two punch of the Halpert family. He beckoned her forward, as if giving her permission to join him in his own little circle of wallowing and self-pity. Larissa stepped out onto the roof and handed Jim a beer before taking a seat next to him and lifting her bottle to tap his with a soft *clink*.

She brought the bottle to her mouth then turned to Jim. "Thanks for sharing my first beer with me."

Jim chuckled. "Bullshit."

Larissa flashed a smile. "Fine, my first legal beer."

The two of them sat quietly looking over the town, nothing but the occasional swish of liquid against glass to fill the silence. Larissa rotated the bottle in her hand, picking at the label.

"I don't like seeing you this way," she said softly, staring down. "And I know I promised you I wouldn't be mad at Pam, but she really did a number on you."

"'Ris--" he started.

"No, Jim. You're completely miserable. And we need to do something about it."

He snarled his fingers through his hair. "Like what? She's married. At least I think she is."

Larissa had made him unfollow and block Pam on all social media after he moved, not that that she ever even updated it. He had ventured to her profile countless times when he couldn't sleep, but all he could see was the same profile picture she had had since 2015.

"Give me your phone," Larissa said with her hand outstretched.

"Why?"

"Just give it to me, dummy."

He extended his leg forward so he could pull his phone out of his pocket and reluctantly handed it over to his little sister. She turned it on and began typing.

"How do you know my passcode?"

She looked at him dryly. "It's your birthdate. You really don't realize how unoriginal you are, do you?"

He scoffed and leaned in to see what she was doing, but she turned the screen away every time he tried. After a few minutes, she handed it back to him.

"What did you do?" he questioned cautiously.

She shrugged and pushed herself up to stand. "I put a dating app on your phone."

"You what?!"

"I didn't activate your profile yet, calm down. But I think you need to get your mind off of Pam. I'm not saying you need to find your soulmate, but at least go try and have fun. Meet people. Maybe get some action."

"Larissa!" he said, eyes wide.

"What?" She laughed. Her expression changed as she looked back to him. "Listen, you don't have to use it. But promise me you'll think about it. For my birthday. I miss my big brother."

Jim watched as Larissa slid back into his room and turned his phone over a few times in his hand. Maybe she was right. He didn't know if he was up for dating, but what he was doing now sure wasn't cutting it. Maybe finding something (or someone) to get his mind off of Pam wasn't the worst thing. He tipped his beer back to finish it off, then crawled back through his window.


That night he laid in bed, sleep evading him as usual. He tossed and turned, flipped his pillow a few times, and counted as many sheep as he could, before finally turning to his side and grabbing his phone from the nightstand. He scrolled to the dating app Larissa had downloaded and lingered his thumb over it.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered out loud to himself before opening the app.

Larissa had already started his profile, choosing the picture and writing a brief bio about him. And he had to admit, she did a pretty good job. He sucked in a breath and pressed the "Activate your Profile" button.

The screen changed and a picture of a blonde girl holding a golden retriever puppy popped up. From what he understood, he could swipe to the left if he wasn't interested and swipe right if was. He looked at his screen, mumbling something to himself about how he thought it was shallow to decide if you wanted to date someone solely based on one picture.

The first girl's name was Morgan. Pass. Pam's middle name.

The next girl had curly hair. Pass.

That one gave off strong receptionist vibes. Pass.

The next girl was wearing a pink cardigan in her picture. Hard pass.

He set his phone down and sighed. Every girl was going to inevitably have something about her that reminded him of Pam. Picking up the phone one more time, he told himself he would look at just one last profile before giving it up. At least he could tell Larissa he tried.

He swiped over to the next picture and shot up in bed.

She would be impossible not to compare to Pam.

Because it was Pam.

He had to blink a few times to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. He ran through the facts in his head:

He wasn't dreaming.
It was definitely Pam.
And she was definitely not married.

Past that, he couldn't seem to process much else.

Her hair in the picture wasn't pulled up like he was used to and he couldn't seem to stop staring at it. He was overcome with an intense feeling of simply missing her. The way she laughed when he caught her off guard with a joke. The way she always seemed to know when he needed cheering up. Her warmth, her smile, her genuine kindness and concern, even for people who probably didn't deserve it.

And then the realization swung back like a pendulum and hit him again. He laid out the facts one more time as he continued to process:

She wasn't married.
She never told him.
She'd rather find someone random on an app than give him a shot.

His heart felt like steel, heavy and cold, but somehow it was still managing to pound heavily. He didn't know what to do here. Throwing off his covers, he flung his feet off the side of the bed, constantly making sure his screen didn't turn off because irrationally he feared if it blacked out, she'd be gone. He stood up and paced the floor, running his hand along his jaw as he decided what to do.

Larissa.

Larissa would know. She may be young, but she was much more familiar with this type of dating than he was, and she also knew the situation. Not to mention she's the one that got him into this mess. He started toward his bedroom door, but as he put his hand on the knob, he paused.

Larissa wanted him to move on--to forget about Pam. She wanted him to meet new people, have fun, let loose. Most likely, and he knew Larissa well, she would tell him that he shouldn't pursue it. That if she was swiping left and right instead of picking up the phone to call him, it was just best to keep that door shut.

Maybe she'd be right. Jim looked down at his screen to Pam's picture. She looked happy, and really, that's all he ever wanted for her anyway.

But he just wasn't ready to sever that string quite yet.

He backed up to the bed and sat down, his thumb hovering over the screen.

He should swipe left and move on, he tells himself.

Swipe left.

Swipe left.

Swipe. Left.

He clenched his eyes shut, and dragged his thumb to the right.

***

The next morning, he walked into the kitchen after a fitful night of sleep, his stomach tied in enough knots to make a sailor envious. Larissa was at the table with the comic section of the newspaper ("It's the only part worth reading, honestly") and a bowl of Lucky Charms that was the size of her head.

"Good morning, J!"

"Morning, smalls," he said through a yawn.

"Given any more thought to Operation Get Jimmy Halpert Out of the Dumps and Into Someone's Pants?"

Jim rolled his eyes with a half-hearted chuckle. "Not if you call it that." He poured a cup of coffee from the pot his dad had made earlier and sat down next to Larissa. "Actually," he said, taking a sip. "I looked at it last night."

"And?!"

Jim took another drink, peering at his sister over the top of the mug, wondering how to break it to her that he broke the cardinal rule of getting over Pam: attempting to date her.

"I…found…Pam…" he dragged her name out.

She slammed her palm on the table. "WHAT?! Jim, it's going to match you with people in Scranton! You were supposed to do this back in Stamford! Also…WHAT?!"

Jim pulled out his phone and navigated to Pam's profile. "Guess she never got married," he shrugged, his words laced with bitterness.

"Did you swipe right, Jim?" She looked at him with wide eyes.

He nodded slowly and all at once, the stupidity of his actions caught up to him. He'd slammed his head down on the table and groaned. Then shot right back up and looked at Larissa with terror in his eyes.

"What if she matches with me? What the hell will I say?!" He stood up and ran his hand along the back of his neck, pacing. "What if she doesn't match with me? What if she sees me and decides she dodged a bullet and doesn't want to try again? Larissa! I'm an idiot!"

"This is not news," Larissa said calmly, then took a big bite of cereal and went back to the paper.


*ding*


"Holy crap," Larissa said through a mouthful of Lucky Charms, dropping her spoon on the table. She held up Jim's phone to him.

"You have a match."

Jim stood silently still, eyes skirting from the screen to Larissa before darting toward both of them and snatching the phone out of her hands.

Pam's was the only profile he swiped right on, which meant she must have done the same for him. Which meant…

"Larissa, what do I say?!"

"Ask her why she broke your heart if she wasn't going to get married."

He shot her a look. "Please, Ris."

She shrugged. "I don't know. You guys always joked around a lot. Open with something...light. Funny. You're good at that."

Jim sat back down at the kitchen table, his mind racing. Maybe she just wanted to talk and this didn't mean she wanted to pursue anything further, but he had to try despite the fear of another rejection.

Finally, he began typing.

Jim: Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Jim. ;)

It was a wonder he didn't pass out with how little he was breathing as he waited for a reply, his leg practically bouncing a divot in the kitchen floor.

Pam: Omg it's really you!!

A giant grin betrayed his nervousness as it spread across his face.

Jim: See, I was trying to make a joke. About how we had never met…

Pam: Yeah, I don't care. :) :)

"What is she saying? You're smiling like a fool!" Larissa prodded.

Jim shrugged, completely unable to wipe the smile off his face. "Nothing."

"Oh really?"

He showed her their conversation and she rolled her eyes, but with her own smile showing through. "You're hopeless. I'm going upstairs, so let me know if you need me." She forced his gaze from his phone to her eyes. "And Jim," she said, tapping his chest with her pointer finger. "Try to protect this as much as you can, okay?"

He gave her a half-smile and turned back to his conversation with Pam.

Pam: How are you?!

Jim: I'm doing alright, how are you?

Pam: I’m good! So...are you in Scranton, then?

Jim: Yeah, I’m in town for my little sister’s birthday.

Pam: Well, welcome home!
Pam: I mean, back.
Pam: I guess it’s not really “home” anymore, huh?

Jim: Nah, it will always be home. I do have a burning question, though.

Pam: Okay…

Jim: Has Dwight been getting my faxes? Or, I guess his faxes? From the future?

Pam: YES. Omg! Some of your best work there. ;)

He was aching to hear her laugh. To see her smile with her shoulders hunched up and tongue between her teeth. To hear his last name slide off her tongue with a bite of sarcasm.

Jim: Thank you! You can’t see it, but I’m bowing.

Pam: I would like to see it, actually.

Jim stood up quickly. He glanced toward the stairwell where Larissa had gone, debating getting advice from is 21-year-old sister. Was Pam asking to meet up? Or was she just playing along with his banter? His phone buzzed in his hand again.

Pam: I just mean that it would be nice. You know, to see you. But I understand if you’re busy.

With that, he bolted up the stairs like he was in 9th grade and the cute girl in his chemistry class had just asked him to study with her. He poked his head in Larissa's room.

"She wants to meet up."

Larissa set the laptop she had on her lap down next to her on the bed. "Pam?!"

"No, genius, Jennifer Aniston. Yes, Pam! What do I do?"

Larissa chuckled. "Okay, smartass, easy." She got up and walked over to him and stuck her hand out for his phone. "Let me see the conversation."

She read it over and handed the phone back to Jim. "I don't think you should. Not yet."

"Really?"

Larissa nodded. "Play a little hard to get. You don't want to seem too desperate."

Jim shifted his eyes. "...but I am desperate."

"Well, obviously. But you don't want to show it." She shrugged. "Just tell her you have plans with me today for my birthday."

Jim was torn. He wanted to see her so badly. Not just because he still loved her, but because he deeply missed his best friend. But what Larissa said also made sense. The scars Pam inflicted were still pink and he needed to make sure he was ready to see her.

Jim: Oh man, I'd love to but I promised my sister I'd spend time with her today. Rain check?

Pam: Oh, yeah! Totally. No problem.

Jim: But...we can still chat.
Jim: If you want.

Pam: I'd like that. :)

Jim: Awesome. :) So I have another question. How fast does the average person type?



The entirety of Jim’s day was spent checking his messages with a swirling feeling in his chest. With every vibration of his phone and sight of her name popping up, he felt a surge of excitement. They were basically playing a mashed-up version of “would you rather” and “20 questions” and if he was careful, he could almost forget about that night in the parking lot four months ago. In fact, without actually seeing her, or hearing her voice, he could almost forget it was her at all. It felt like the beginnings of a new crush. They played off each other so well and their conversations were smooth, even if they were surface-level.

But then there were times where he was pulled back into his reality. She would mention Michael, or Dwight, or start a sentence with “Remember that one time…” and his heart would sink, reimagining the shine in her eyes as she chose somebody else over him. He would remember they were talking through a dating app and she was only able to reconnect with him because she stumbled upon him while searching for dating prospects that weren't him (and he had to tell himself it was just for dating and not for something less…attached).

He also kept his word and spent the day with Larissa, which helped. He still didn't want to leave the house, but she sat in his room with him looking through old picture albums and keepsakes their mom had held on to.

"Ahhh yes," Larissa sang holding up a picture and turning it over to read the writing on the back. "Halloween of '97. My favorite Jim Halpert costume."

He snatched it from her. "You were basically an infant. You don't even remember."

"But it's immortalized in the form of a photograph, so I don't need to remember."

Jim's phone buzzed with a notification. He smiled and opened the app.

Pam: What are you up to now?

Jim: Looking through old pictures with my sister. Finding all the embarrassing Halloween costumes of years past. Yikes.

Pam: Well, you KNOW I need to see these pictures, right?

Jim laughed and switched to his phone camera, snapping a picture of the photo in his hands, then went back into the app.

Jim: Wait, can I not send pictures on this thing?

Pam: Nope. I'm assuming to cut down on unsolicited and…questionable…pictures.

Jim: Oof. Noted. Well, damn. I was going to show you.

Pam: Jim…

Jim: Pam…

Pam: You still have my number, right?

Feeling grateful he could never get himself to delete her number, he drafted a text message to her.

I'm a moron. Here you go.

His heart skipped seeing the three little lines pop up indicating she was responding.

Jim. You're a basketball.

Yep.

Not even a basketball player. You're just a basketball. It looks like you cut a hole out of a basketball and stuck your head through it and then just wore normal clothes!

Yep.

I'm crying laughing!

I'm glad you're enjoying this.

Oh, I am. :) :)

Moving from the built-in messaging on the app to texting felt like a big step. Now he didn't have as much fear of her saying, "Well, it's been fun!", closing the app, and never reaching out to him again.

Curious, he scrolled up to the last time they had texted.

May 11, 2017 5:16 p.m.

Hey Jim! Just letting you know I was able to finally get those copies made for you. Stupid copy machine! I just put them on your desk. See you tonight!

Thanks, Pam! You're a lifesaver. See you tonight!

That was the night he had gambled more than just his money at the company casino night and lost. It was the last contact he had with Pam. The last time he felt even remotely himself. And on the screen, there was just a small gap between their conversation that night and the one they were currently having. In reality, it might as well have been an ocean between them--a lifetime.

They continued texting throughout the afternoon and into the evening. Before he knew it, it was 10:30 p.m. and he was laying on his bed, sorting everyone in the office into Hogwarts houses with her over text.

I think you're wrong! Oscar is FOR SURE a Ravenclaw.

He smiled to himself and responded.

Okay fine, you're right. And I think that's everyone! Well done, Beesly.

He saw the three dots appear, then disappear. That happened several times before her message finally came through.

Can I tell you something?

A chill ran through his body.

For sure.

I'm really glad you didn't delete my number.

Jim let out a slow breath, sensing that they would likely be venturing out of their safe little bubble of naivety.

Me too.

I was really worried you might have. After everything.

Everything. That was one way to put it.

Thought I better keep it in case I needed an expert's advice on jelly bean suppliers.

Ha ha. I've just missed you, Halpert.

His eyes scanned over her message over, and over, and over. But he still had questions.

You had my number too, you know.

His thumb hovered over the send button before finally pressing it. He stared at the screen, nervously awaiting her response.

Didn't think you'd want to hear from me.

His throat clenched.

What makes you think that?

I don't know.

The evasion in her response flared up frustration within him, but before he could respond, another message from her appeared on the screen.

You can say no to this, but…can I call you?

His chest tightened as he scrambled to fix his hair and straighten his pillows, seemingly forgetting she wouldn't be actually seeing him. He rubbed his hands over his face, his heart beating out of his chest, and typed a response.

Yeah, go ahead.

Almost as soon as he sent the message, his phone began buzzing and a picture of Pam that he had taken on their company mini golf outing the year before flashed on his screen.

He pressed the green button to accept the call and did his best to steady his voice.

"Hey, Beesly," he said softly.

“Jim.” He could hear the smile in her voice and it made every hair on his body stand on end.

“It’s really good to hear your voice,” he admitted, unable to help himself.

“It really is. But...your voice. You know what I mean,” she laughed nervously.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “So…”

“So…” she said with him simultaneously. They both chuckled into the phone and settled into a brief silence.

“Go ahead,” he offered.

There was an audible sigh on the other end of the line followed by another beat of silence. When she spoke, he had to strain to hear her voice.

“I didn’t get married.”

He looked down at the blanket covering his legs and picked at a stray thread. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I kind of figured.”

“Right…” She stayed quiet for a moment. “I just...I’m sorry I never called. Or told you. You were my best friend and I should have told you.”

He recoiled at her words. You were my best friend. Past tense. It felt true, but that didn’t take the sting out of hearing it. He could hear a subtle sniffle.

“Pam, are you…”

“I’m fine,” her voice trembled. “I just...I feel like I’ve done everything wrong. And hearing your voice...I don’t know. I just miss you.”

He had the overwhelming urge to hold her close. No matter how much hurt he felt, he never wanted her to feel any of it.

“Pam?”

“Hmm?”

“I know it’s late but...can I see you?”

“Right...right now?”

“Right now.”

“...yes.”

“You know that park off of Clover and 5th?”

“I think so.”

“Meet me there? Twenty minutes?”

“Okay.” It came out as a near whisper.

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

”See you then.”

Jim hung up and stared at his screen. Looks like he was leaving the house after all.

His breath fogged in front of him as he made the 10 minute walk to the park. He started to regret suggesting they meet up outside, but it was too late to change his mind now. As he rounded the corner, he saw her and had to will himself to take each step. Not because he didn’t want to go to her, but because the sight of her after four long months nearly stopped him in his tracks.

She was sitting in a swing, facing him but with her head down, slowly swaying back and forth as she kicked loose pieces of bark with her shoe. When she heard the crunch of his feet hitting the bark, she looked up and her melancholy smile nearly did him in.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

“Hi.”

She got out of the swing and walked to meet him, quick to wrap her arms around his torso and pull him into a tight hug. He bent slightly, slid his arms around her, and pressed his cheek against hers, cold from the autumn air. The feel of her body against his and the smell of her shampoo and the very fact that she was finally tangible made his head feel dizzy. He had missed her so damn much.

She leaned back to look him in the eye, cracking a smile. “You’re here.”

“I am,” he chuckled. “You look different than your profile picture,” he joked.

She lightly punched his arm and let out a laugh that made his heart skip. “Very funny.”

They walked back to the swings, each taking one as a seat. Jim looked over to her, leaning his head against the chain of the swing.

“You actually do look different, though,” he said. “You look...happier.”

She scoffed, looking down to her feet. “Looks can be deceiving, I guess.”

“You’re not happy?”

She swung slightly, seeming to ponder his question. “I mean, I’m not unhappy. I’m finally doing what I want to do simply because I want to do it and not because I’m ‘supposed to’ anymore. So that feels good. I'm also taking art classes," she shrugged.

“That's awesome, Pam. But I feel like there's a 'but' somewhere in there.”

She sighed heavily. “But...I don’t know if I would go as far as to say I’m truly happy. But I’m working on it.”

He gave a slight, understanding nod and Pam looked up at him. “What about you? Are you happy?” she asked, though he could tell from her cautious tone that she already knew the answer.

“I…”

He couldn’t find it in himself to lie, to put on a brave face and tell her what she wanted--no, needed--to hear. He'd already spent too many years doing that.

“I’ve been better, honestly. It's been...a rough few months."

He saw pain ripple across her face before she tore her eyes from him to stare at her hands in her lap.

"Because of me." It wasn't a question.

Jim swallowed hard. He didn't want to make her feel bad, but she also wasn't wrong.

"I know that I put you in a tough position, though,” he admitted. “So it's not all on you.” It was refreshing to be talking with her so openly instead of skirting around the difficult topics like they had come so accustomed to.

Pam ran her hand down the chain of the swing. "I think I was just caught off guard," she shrugged. "I probably didn't handle it the best way but I needed more time."

"I mean, you could have told me that," he forced out, feeling the emotion beginning to rise in his chest. "I would have stayed. We could have..." The rest of his sentence got choked in his throat.

"But that's the thing," she turned toward him more. "I don't think I knew what I needed. Not right away, at least. Or even a few days after. When I told you I was going to marry Roy, I really thought I was going to."

"But you didn't," he said quietly.

"No, I didn't. Called it off three days before."

He turned inward, their knees occasionally brushing each other as they sat on the swings.

"Can I ask you why?"

She thought for a minute before taking a deep breath. "It was like,” she started. “I knew he and I had issues. And there were a lot of reasons why we weren't a good fit. But up until the night you…we..." She flicked her eyes to him. "I guess I had just chosen to ignore them because he loved me and we had been together for so long."

"But it still took you until three days before you got married to end it?" The question came out bitterly, and knew it probably wasn't fair, but he asked it anyway.

She looked at him with a furrowed brow. "Jim, I was with him for ten years," she said solidly.

"I know, I'm sorry,” he whispered.

She sighed. "It was like when I got glasses as a kid. I had no idea how blurry my world was until I put them on. But it still took me a while to adjust."

For months, it had felt as if he had a pile of bricks sitting on his chest, but with every word Pam said, she lifted them off, one by one. But still, it wasn't every brick. He still didn't understand, if he had altered her life's course so much, why she never reached out to him after she broke off her wedding. But when he finally worked up the courage to ask her, he noticed that her teeth were chattering.

"Oh my gosh, you're so cold. I don't know why I chose to meet you outside," he cringed. "Sorry."

"No, I'm good."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "That's a lie. C'mon."

He stood up and beckoned her forward with a flick of his head. She smiled warmly, a gentle reprieve from the heaviness of their previous conversation. They walked silently side by side, their knuckles brushing every so often until Pam gave in and intertwined her fingers with his. His stomach leapt and he looked down at their joined hands.

"Is this okay?" she asked softly, biting her lower lip.

Jim nodded with a half-smile, then tucked their linked hands in his coat pocket to keep them warm, wondering if she could feel his rapid pulse on their joined wrists.

They approached his parents house and he pulled their hands apart in order to unlock the door, and he instantly missed the feel of her hand in his.

"Is this your parent's house?" she asked.

"This is it," he whispered as the door opened. "But I think everyone is asleep."

He led her into the kitchen. "We aren't really tea drinkers here…but I can start a pot of coffee if you want that to warm you up."

"That's okay," she smiled. "I'm actually not that cold anymore."

And with the sight of her in his childhood kitchen, he had to admit he wasn't that cold either. He leaned back against the counter and crossed his ankles. Clearing his throat, he looked up at her.

"Listen, I wanted to ask you someth--"

But before he could finish, Larissa walked through the kitchen doorway.

"Oh!" Larissa screeched to a stop and looked from Jim to Pam then back again. A wry smile crept onto her face as she walked closer to Pam but with her eyes still on Jim. She stuck her hand out.

"Hi, Pam, I'm Larissa. Jim's little sister."

Pam took her hand and then looked to Jim with an amused expression. "Nice to meet you!"

"You too! I'm just gonna…" Her voice trailed off as she slipped past them to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. "Goodnight!" She turned her face toward Jim as she passed and mouthed a very exaggerated HOLY CRAP.

If he wasn't warm before, he definitely was now.

Pam's face was flushed but her smile wide. "I don't ever recall telling Larissa my name," she smirked. "That's odd."

Jim blushed again and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, that's weird."

Pam let out a laugh. She was standing just a few feet from Jim and she caught his gaze. He felt himself getting swept up in her all over again.

"You wanted to ask something?"

Jim glanced toward the doorway where Larissa had just exited. He did want to keep talking with Pam. He actually wanted to do more than just talk, but the knot in his chest told him talking needed to happen first. But he wanted more privacy, somewhere further away from his sister's possible eavesdropping ears.

"I do but…follow me."

She trailed behind him as he climbed the stairs and turned into his bedroom, where he hurriedly picked up clothes scattered around the floor and haphazardly kicked his duffle bag under the bed. Pam head swiveled, taking in this part of Jim she never knew.

"Your old room?" she asked, running her finger along a line of comic books.

"Yep." He put his hands in his pockets. "With plenty of ammunition for you to use against me, I'm sure," he chuckled.

Pam continued walking slowly around the room, examining posters, and CDs, and pictures on his desk, while Jim went to the closet and grabbed a large blanket from the top shelf. She met him by his side at the window as he pushed it open.

"Are we going out there?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I know I just brought you out of the cold," he lifted the blanket up. "But I think this will help and I would like to show you something."

She grinned. "Okay, then."

Jim crawled out the window first, turned to help Pam through, then waited a moment as she got her footing before they shuffled a few feet toward the middle of the roof. He held her hand as she lowered herself to sit, then joined her at her side, wrapping the blanket around them both. Pam slowly lowered her head to his shoulder as she looked out over his street, which caused his eyes to flutter shut as her close proximity made him momentarily lose brain function.

As he gathered his thoughts, he pointed across the street. "See that fire hydrant? When I was 12, I ran into it on my bike, flipped over the handlebars and broke my left wrist.” Pam let out a small, breathy laugh. “And there," he continued, pointing toward the driveway below them. "Is where I had my first kiss."

"Aww," Pam cooed. "How old were you?"

"Four."

She snickered, wrapping her arms around his bicep and pulling herself in closer to him. "Tell me more."

"Let's see," he said, bringing his left hand up to stroke the back of her hand that was resting on his arm, praying she couldn't sense how nervous he was. "Across the street and three doors down? That's where my best friend Collin lived. He moved when we were 8 and I didn't leave my room for two entire days. Well, except when I was out here on the roof."

"That's so sad! Did you keep in touch?"

"No, not really. We played each other in basketball a few times when we both played in competitive summer leagues, and we're friends on Facebook and stuff. Last I heard he was married with a kid."

More silence settled between them, broken up only by the chirps of distant crickets. Jim cautiously moved his hand to Pam's bended knee.

"This roof holds a lot of memories for me. It became my safe haven as a kid. I did my best thinking, my only crying, and I guess," he paused. "I guess I just wanted you to see it. For whatever reason."

"Thank you," she whispered, and suddenly her face was tilted toward his, their lips just inches apart. He leaned closer, any rational thought wiped clean from his brain. Their lips brushed and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Finally, she pressed further into him, bringing her hand up and running it through the ends of his hair as he sank into her kiss, cupping her face with his hand, completely unable to grasp on to the reality that he was kissing Pam again.

Again.

He had been here before and it ended with his heart shattered and the pieces wilting on the floor.

She chose someone else.

And then something else.

And while he sat at home, feeling like a shell of his former self, she was on a dating app instead of kissing him like this every night, even though she had to have known he'd come running.

He furrowed his brow, knowing it would take everything in him to stop kissing her. But he pulled away quickly and buried his face into her shoulder, his hand still on the side of her face.

"Jim?"

"Why didn't you call?" he whispered.

She paused. "What?"

He couldn't believe he was stopping the very thing he had longed for for so long. But he needed to do it right this time. He leaned back and dropped his hand to her leg.

"I had to find out you called off your wedding through a dating app, Pam."

She dropped her hands from behind his head and began fiddling with them. "I know."

His head gave a slight shake. "I mean, do you understand how that must have felt for me?"

Her voice came out muted and trembling. "I didn't…I...you just left Scranton so fast. I assumed you never wanted to see me again."

His shoulders sank with her revelation, especially since all he had wanted since he left was to see her again.

"I was heartbroken," he uttered. "Not hateful."

She looked at him and thought for a moment. "You know, when I called it off with Roy, I slowly started to realize how many people I had pushed away to convince myself my relationship with him was good. I was in a pretty dark place for a while, but luckily, I reconnected with my friend Isabel and she helped pull me out of my funk. But even still, I was so in my head about how much I hurt you. I was convinced you would never forgive me. So, a few days ago she told me to download this app to 'get my sorry ass back out there' and...there you were."

"Wait," he stopped her. "You have only been on there for a few days?"

She gave him a sad smile. "Jim, you're literally the only person I matched with. I was about to delete it when your profile popped up."

He laughed, and she gave him a confused look. "Just sounds pretty familiar," he said.

She smiled and then brought her hand up to his cheek. "I didn't use this stupid app because I didn't want to be with you. I used it to get over you."

He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. "You could have called," he offered quietly.

She closed her eyes and whispered, "I wish I would have."

With that, he put his lips to hers again, feeling the final brick lifted from his chest. He slid his hand through her hair, pulling her closer into him as she grabbed onto his waist. He could feel the smile on her lips as he continued to sink further into her, before finally pulling back for air, resting his forehead on hers. He cracked his eyes open to meet hers.

“In case it’s not clear,” he smiled, gently kissing her once more. “You’re absolutely forgiven.”

She chuckled and tucked her head under his chin, pulling the blanket tighter around them. With his arm around her waist, he kissed the top of her head lightly and looked out over the street again, telling her stories from his childhood until their limbs and faces grew numb from the cold.

They climbed back into his bedroom quietly, and Pam took in her surroundings once more as Jim shut the window and closed the blinds. When he turned around, she was looking in a small open box on his desk. Suddenly, he remembered what it contained.

"I can't believe you kept this," she said fondly. She reached into the box and picked up a piece of paper, flashing it toward him. It was a drawing she had made for Jim's birthday three years before, depicting a cartoonish Dwight stuck hopelessly in a giant mountain of jello, with tiny little beets floating around with him.

Jim came closer and took it from her hand. "Some of your best work. Just waiting to get it framed."

She laughed and rifled through the box a little more. "This is all stuff--"

"That you gave me."

She held up the medal he had kept from their office olympics. "Why is it here?"

Jim sighed. "When I left Scranton, I packed everything up from my desk. I couldn't get myself to throw any of this out, but I knew I couldn't bring it with me either. Not if I had a shot in hell of moving on. So, I brought it here," he shrugged.

She looked at him with a sadness in her eyes as she frowned. "I was pretty blind, huh?"

She fiddled with the yogurt lid edges, her demeanor soaked in regret. Jim turned her by her shoulders so she was facing him, and dipped his head so he could make eye contact with her.

"Hey," he said softly, running his hands along her now folded arms. He lifted her chin with his knuckle and made sure she was paying attention.

"None of that matters now, okay?" He gave her a smirk, and ran his thumb along her cheek. "We matched, remember?"

A laugh escaped her as she dropped her forehead to his chest and he enveloped her, holding her tightly until she relaxed in his arms. He planted a kiss on top of her head, and she tilted her head upward to look up at him, her arms still tightly wound around him.

“Thank you,” she whispered through a smile. “For swiping right.”

He chuckled and kissed her softly, hoping she knew just how much he needed to thank her too. Slowly, he felt her hand slide into his front pocket.

“Easy, Beesly,” he laughed against her lips. “We’re at my parents house.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and held his phone in front of his face that she had taken out of his pocket. She turned it on and punched in the numbers.

“How does everyone know my passcode?!”

“Birthday. Predictable.”

Jim scoffed, then peeked over the top of the screen. Pam swiped over three screens before reaching the dating app, then firmly pressed “Delete”. She grinned up at him happily as she slipped it back into his pocket.

“I don’t think you need that anymore.”

“You’re right,” he shrugged. “I hear the other apps have better interfaces. I should try one of those.”

She dropped her jaw in mock surprise and smacked his chest with her hand, which he caught and brought up to his lips. He looked at her seriously this time, bringing her hand to his cheek.

“You know it’s always been you.”

She looked at him through tear brimmed eyes, then kissed him one more time before he offered to walk her back to her car at the park.

Hand in hand, they spent the 10 minute walk talking about logistics and weekends to visit each other. There were things to still figure out and discuss and decide, but they both knew it would be okay. And while he would miss her like crazy during the week, she was now his to miss, and nothing felt sweeter.

They reached her car and she turned to lean her back against the door. He stepped closer, pressing up against her.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and a smile kissing his lips. “Are you free for dinner,” he checked his watch, seeing it was after midnight. “Tonight?”

She grabbed onto the lapels of his coat and pulled him closer, her nose brushing his. “Yes.”

“Alright, then.” He grazed his lips against hers. “It’s a date.”