It was Thursday morning in Scranton, Pennsylvania, and Jim Halpert, future teacher, humanitarian, visionary found himself planted firmly in the present. Like most dreamers, practical considerations had overridden the idyllic purity of his vision. Although he liked to think he had been so very close to handing in his resignation to Michael on Tuesday morning, the truth was he knew caution and practicality would keep him at Dunder Mifflin for the foreseeable future. As a result of years of happily living in the moment, he had very little money saved. It was almost June, and the deadline to apply for the upcoming autumn semester had passed for most colleges. It would have to wait, and in the meantime he needed to shore up his finances. Spring quarter... Autumn '08 at the very latest.

Karen hadn't spoken a word to him since their Monday conversation in the break room. He glanced over at her often, and felt guilty that he missed the smiling glances that she used to throw his way so frequently. She sat expressionlessly and concentrated on her work, as she had done the two days previously. She got up only for quick bathroom breaks, left the office for lunch, and spoke hardly a word to anyone but her customers on the phone. Jim had arrived early Tuesday morning and left an envelope with his note on Karen's keyboard. He had watched her pick it up and study the single word scrawled on the outside... Karen. She had expressionlessly looked over at him with her tired eyes. They had stared at each other for a few long seconds, until Jim's will failed him and he looked away. Karen put the letter in her purse and pulled up her client list for the day.

Pam couldn't escape the tension either. Although she was dutifully respecting Jim's request that they slow down while he reconciled his guilt, Jim could tell that the awkward, artificial distance he was forcing himself to impose upon her in the office was taking its toll on her. She had been trying to absorb some of Jim's guilt by claiming it for herself. If she had only called him after she called her wedding off... been more honest with him earlier... waited until they were alone before making her big confession... Whatever her argument, Jim wasn't buying it. Pam hadn't forced him to treat Karen like he did. This was his fight. Pam was just being thoughtful and trying to protect him. He needed to do whatever it took to get himself back to where he could love her like she deserved to be loved.

It was Thursday morning, and he still hadn't been able to to isolate Karen for a conversation. He still hadn't the foggiest idea of what he'd say, but he knew it had to be done. The Jim that he was trying so hard to bury would have turned away and cast her unceremoniously out of his thoughts, so he had to try, really try... to do right by her, to make things right. Jim had no illusions about his motivation, either. He needed this conversation more than she did, and she seemed determined to ignore him. And then Karen dropped him a lifeline. He was pouring himself a coffee when he felt a gentle tug at his sleeve. He turned and she pulled her hand away. In stark contrast to the way she used to nestle up close to him at this very counter as they got their coffee together (albeit in a professional, non-touching way), she was standing a full arm's length away. Her tone was formal and stoic.

"Hey, Jim... before we left for the New York, I took my silver band off and left it in your nightstand drawer. That was my grandmother's so I'd appreciate it if you could bring it back tomorrow."

"Sure, Karen... Hey..."

But she was gone, having seized upon his hesitation to slip out of the kitchen and back towards her desk. Perhaps fearful of subjecting her to anything even resembling public drama, Jim decided to let her go. There would be a better time and place. The full, life-changing magnitude of his decision would not become apparent to him until much later.


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There was no other way to do this. She was cold-shouldering him at the time he needed her most. He didn't want to call her... not after their last phone call. He couldn't pull her aside at work. It was a little after 10PM when Jim stood on Karen's doorstep and summoned the courage to knock. After an short but seemingly interminable wait, the porch light clicked on and he could feel her eye on him through the peephole. The door opened, but it didn't welcome him inside. Instead it stopped after about a foot, and Karen's head and shoulder appeared and clogged the narrow opening. She was wearing a dark nightshirt and her hair was wet. With no real expression at all, she thrust out her upturned palm and waited until Jim placed her ring in it.

She looked for the briefest of moments like she was going to retreat and slam the door in his face, leaving him standing there like an idiot, but apparently something got the best of her. Convention? Politeness? Residual feelings? Her voice sounded soft. Even a little warm. Everyone bleeds off anger at a different rate. Perhaps four days was enough for Karen?

"Thanks, Jim."

She waited awkwardly, but Jim seized upon her moment of softness.

"Can I come in and talk to you for a bit... please?"

She opened the door and he squeezed past her. He waited for her as she latched the door. Jim made for the sofa and gently sat down. Karen eased into the opposite end, and leaned back into the cushions. He turned to face her, while she eyed him warily. Although her nightshirt hung down to her upper thighs, Jim was heartened a bit by the fact that she had opened the door without feeling the need to throw some pants on. At the very least, he was still something more than a stranger to her. Karen noticed where he was looking and cringed a bit, stretching her shirt down a few inches and covering her thighs with a pillow. Jim quickly moved his eyes back from her thighs to her face, and finally came up with something to say.

"Did you read my letter?" He remembered why in the past he had avoided all serious relationship conversations except one. He just wasn't very eloquent when the emotional stakes were high. Karen exhaled and seemed to slink further into her couch cushions.

"Jim, I'm sure you felt good writing it, but why'd you even bother giving it to me? The whole point of it was to convince yourself that you're not a total prick. It's all about you, Jim. You've made that pretty clear to me, haven't you?"

He hated how she put it to him as a question. It wasn't a question at all. Her words were bitter, but her tone was more of detached disappointment. When Jim didn't answer, Karen continued.

"So if you're looking for a happy make-up session so you can feel better about yourself, you're at the wrong place. I'm the one who gambled and lost here, so my broken heart comes before your guilty conscience."

The room went silent and Jim felt painfully claustrophobic. There was something about her tone, her words, her posture, that was so very Karen. While her words were technically telling him to go to hell, her matter-of-fact allusion to her own broken heart captivated Jim. She was so comfortable in her own skin that she didn't think twice about the humiliation of admitting to him she had loved him after he had dumped her so abruptly. Jim wished he had this type of strength. Pam's new found assertiveness, of which Jim was so very proud, was long overdue and hugely refreshing. It involved mostly speaking her mind and making it clear to everyone that she wasn't some weak doormat. Karen, in contrast, wasn't afraid to open up and let him see her at her weakest. That took serious guts. Jim knew she was pretty tough, but he'd never really let himself admire that until now, when across the four foot chasm that separated them, she exuded a quiet dignity that refused to crumble despite having been trampled.

Her only weakness had been him. He hadn't ever really deserved her. It was at the same time flattering and maddening. He felt a searing, tangible pain in his gut as he realized that everything he had ever hoped for Pam to become was staring at him now in very real form through a weary set of pale green eyes. If he'd had half the guts she did, he might be living out an unblemished happily-ever-after with Pam right now, with no idea one Ms. Karen Filippelli even existed.

You can't lose somebody's love overnight. She must still love him, although she was undoubtedly rectifying that with each passing day. Respect, though, is a completely different beast. Karen felt none for him, and it hurt. The brave words in his letter were supposed to be the vanguard, the very epitome of the new Jim, and those words carried absolutely no credibility with the one person he really wanted to convince. The easy thing to do would have been to get up and leave. Move past her, but at the same time remember her and learn from her. The easy thing had also been to keep her around as a counterweight to offset his unresolved feelings for Pam. Jim's days of doing the easy thing, though, were ending.

"Karen listen... Before I came to Stamford I dated this girl. She was kind, sweet, beyond pretty. I should have been lucky to have her but I dumped her the night Pam and Roy set their wedding date. I was such an ass and I never gave it a second thought."

Karen looked amused.

"The cheerleader?"

"Yeah. The cheerleader. Anyway, what I did to her didn't feel bad at all, because I didn't love her. But after I left you I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I can't sleep. Sometimes I feel like I can't even breathe."

She didn't look like she was about to whip out the Kleenex for him, but Jim continued.

"I know it's guilt. I did a terrible thing and I feel terrible, but Karen, there's more to it than that. I didn't realize how much I really cared about you until I hurt you so badly, or how much I respect you for that matter. After so many years I was so convinced Pam was everything I ever wanted that I didn't give you any of what you deserved."

She looked unamused. Jim realized his words were strangely parallel to his words during their five night talk-a-thon, although admittedly a bit stronger. Hedged assertions, platitudes, and tempered statements... He would be unimpressed, too, so he cut through the bullshit and got to the point.

"Karen... I made a giant mistake. You're the one I'm in love with. I was just too stupid to see it until now."

Damn. Honesty can be rewarding but also so damn awkward. His heart was racing and beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead. He knew what was coming so he tried to preempt it.

"And I know I have no right to do this to you and you have no reason to believe me, but please just give me one chance to make it right, and I'll do whatever it takes."

She interrupted him. Loudly this time. She pivoted her body in the sofa to square up to him as she yelled.

"Is this some sort of sick game to you? Do you like seeing how hard you can kick me and still get me back? Fuck you, Halpert."

Jim was yelling too now.

"Whatever it takes, Karen. I'll leave with you. I'll leave Scranton... everything."

"I don't trust you anymore."

"And you shouldn't, but I swear to you I'll earn it back. I'll never take you for granted again"

She looked like she was hurting. Jim could see the pain in her face. For a woman as strong as Karen, this should have been an easy "go-to-Hell" for her. There were plenty of guys out there who hadn't already spent six months treating her like a disposable accessory. But thank God this particular strong woman had for one reason or another developed a sweet spot for his weak, sorry self. She seemed to be breaking. Her shoulders slumped a bit.

"I promise you nothing, Halpert. Nothing at all. You know exactly what needs to be done so you can start by doing it. You know I'm not staying here. Not Dunder Mifflin, either. Not after they promoted some smarmy, incompetent douchebag two levels over me. New York... Boston maybe. You better think hard about what you're signing up for, and you better clear your heavy baggage right now. You're either on board or not this time. There's no more in between ground."

No more middle ground. No more hedging. It was time to man up, and hope to God it stuck this time.

"No middle ground, Karen. I'm with you."

He moved to hug her but she recoiled.

"You've got a lot of shit to do, Halpert. If you want to stay over you get the couch and we can have breakfast together."

Karen got up and headed for her bedroom. He told her he loved her again, and she turned to him and smiled for the first time.

"I'm glad you came over, Jim. Really glad."

Jim was glad too, although he had a feeling the next 24 hours weren't going to be so hot. The life awaiting him after that... well that was a different story. A new city, a new career, and a new awareness of a dormant, neglected love. He knew it would take time, but he'd win her back completely. And Pam, as much as he really did love her, deserved more than he could give her from inside the painful cocoon of guilt that was only now lifting.