On a particularly chilly Tuesday night in mid-January, Pam decided to leave Roy. She lay in bed for hours, her head pounding, wondering how she had convinced herself for so long that this was the life she wanted. Roy had fallen asleep as soon as she’d told him she wasn’t in the mood, and as she watched his large form swell with each heavy breath, she began to feel sick. As quietly as she could, she got dressed into clean work clothes—not bothering to iron them or to even shower—and crept into the living room. She intended to sleep on the couch, but just looking at the ratty green tweed fabric made her want to vomit. She’d never wanted a tweed couch. It was scratchy, ugly, and dated. But, it was practical and economical—that was always the clincher with Roy and Pam, wasn’t it?

She tried the floor instead, but the scent of spilt beer and cat piss from the previous owner soon convinced her otherwise. She wanted old, beautifully refinished hardwood floors, not tan shag carpeting. God, how had she ever thought she wanted to live here? To think she was lucky to get to live in a rent-to-own split-level home with avocado appliances? To think she should be grateful that Roy wanted to live there with her? The thought actually did make her vomit, and she had to rush into the kitchen on her toes to make sure she wouldn’t wake him, even though she knew any half-assed explanation she might come up with to excuse her strange behavior would appease him.

She stepped outside, thinking maybe the fresh air would make her feel better, but the cold air just made her shiver uncomfortably, and she hated how the winter wind blew her hair into her face. Resigned, she went back to the couch.

Sleep evaded her, and she worried that if she didn’t move out immediately—that if she even spent one more night with him—that the timid, fearful, practical voice within her would win out and maybe she would never leave. That just couldn’t happen. The thought made her laugh, really. People didn’t just up and decide to leave their partners of ten years, did they? Maybe they did. She had, anyway.

All night, she considered her options. Part of her wanted to catch the first train out of Scranton on a one-way ticket and never look back, but that was too romantic. Driving would make more sense, anyway, since she’d probably want to keep her car. Plus, she wasn’t that brave yet. Maybe she’d get a motel until she could find an apartment. It’d be expensive, and if she wanted to make it on her own, she needed to save her money. Her mom lived too far away to make a reasonable commute to work, and to be honest she didn’t really have any friends she’d feel comfortable asking to for a place to stay. Her friends were Roy’s friends, and even they weren’t really her friends at all.

Well, she did have Jim. Maybe he’d put her up for a few days? She thought that might be strange, but she didn’t see the harm in asking. It’d just be temporary, anyway. Yeah, maybe she’d ask Jim.

These thoughts occupied her mind all night, until she heard Roy stirring and quickly made her way to the kitchen to look busy. Roy made some comment about her getting up early, but he didn’t even look at her—didn’t even notice anything was wrong. He ate Frosted Cheerios and watched ESPN highlights in the living room while she sipped her tea silently in the kitchen, contemplating the ways she could tell him she was leaving.

--*--

While Roy hadn’t noticed anything amiss, Jim certainly did. He didn’t even have to see her greasy hair or crumpled clothes to know; he’d known as soon as he’d walked in the door.

“Are you okay, Pam?” He asked once he reached reception, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Yeah,” she replied tiredly.

“You sure, Pam?” He questioned skeptically, genuinely concerned, and she thought for the hundredth time that this was why she couldn’t be with Roy. When was the last time he’d actually cared how she was feeling? Even when she was sick, Roy just told her that that ‘sucked’ and maybe brought her some medicine, but only if she specifically asked him.

She looked up at Jim, her eyes brightening a bit. “I’m going to be.” Her tone was almost wistful, and she attempted a small smile.

He gave her nod and said, “If you need anything, you know where I’ll be.” He pointed to his desk, and added, “Seriously.”

She thanked him, and thought that maybe staying with Jim wouldn’t be a bad idea at all. It still took her all day to actually muster the courage to ask him, worried she might not get the words right. She had to hurry; she was leaving early to pack before he got home. She’d taken her own car to work, telling Roy she had a doctor’s appointment (she was sure she’d mentioned it before), and gave Michael the same excuse. When Jim walked into the break room, she knew she had to act or she’d lose the opportunity, and she really didn’t want to stay in a hotel.

“Jim?” She asked awkwardly. His back was to her, and he didn’t hear her over the crunching of the chips he was eating. This frustrated her more than it should have, and it took her fifty more seconds to muster the courage to approach him again. She kept telling herself to go, without ever putting a foot forward. When she finally did, she took a seat beside him.

“Hey,” he said, surprised. “I didn’t notice you were in here. What’s up?” She was a little disheartened just to hear him say ‘I didn’t notice you’, but he seemed genuinely pleased to have her company, though she knew she looked like shit, and probably incredibly nervous and weird.

“Jim, um,” she began nervously. “I’m leaving Roy.” She hadn’t meant to phrase it that way; hadn’t meant to just say it, but there it was. He was looking at her expectantly, and she almost thought he was trembling, and his eyes seemed a little brighter than usual, but he didn’t say anything. “And, um, I know this is a lot to ask, but I swear it’ll only be temporary,” she muttered, flustered. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. It’s just that I want to leave right away, and I need a place to stay, and I would stay in a hotel or something until I can find a place of my own, but I’m still partially financially dependent on Roy, and I can’t really deal with the whole money problem right now. And my mom lives too far away and you’re, like, my only friend here. It’s weird, like I never really realized that I don’t have any girlfriends or anyone not at work or who are friends of mine and not Roy's and I just—”

“Sure,” he replied, somewhat distantly, as if not really understanding what she was asking.

“Really?” She pressed. “I mean, I can just stay on the couch and like I said it’d just be temporary and—”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’d be happy to help.” He looked at her earnestly then, as if to make sure she was serious. “Are you going to be okay? I mean, are you sure about this?” It seemed strange that he’d ask, especially since Jim had never exactly approved of her relationship with Roy, but she appreciated the concern. The fact that someone really cared about what she was going through, especially since she hadn’t called her mom or anyone yet, perhaps because she didn’t have time, or more likely because she was afraid she’d be too easily convinced out of her choice.

“I need to get out of that relationship. It’s just not what I want anymore, and now that I think about it, I’m a little ashamed I ever thought that was what I wanted.” Saying the words aloud seemed to finalize the decision a bit, like an affirmation that she was doing the right thing. She hadn’t actually done anything yet, after all, and she had to make sure she would. Maybe telling Jim was part of that; someone would know if she backed out. Someone would care if she did, and the thought brought a little smile to her lips. “You’re a good friend,” she added sincerely, her eyes getting a little glossy. She hadn’t cried yet, but she knew it would come.

“Anytime, Pam,” he replied slightly sheepishly.

And that was it. An hour later she went home, two hours later she was packed and sitting out on the porch, and fifteen minutes later Roy came how. Thirty-six minutes after that, she finally left him.

As she drove away from the place that she can’t recall now ever having been “home”, she felt liberated. Sure, she was angrily fighting back tears and was probably more upset than she’d ever been in her whole life, but she was finally free.

And it just felt right.