The weather on his last day in California had been the best of the entire vacation, so they had a quick lunch with Maddie before loading up the car and heading to the beach.

They snacked on trail mix, watched the waves and talked about nothing in particular. It all felt so strange to Jim. This week had given him a glimpse of what it would be like to date Pam, to spend time just being with her. He looked over at her and smiled. It was all he could do.

"What?" she asked with a laugh.

He shook his head and smiled wider. "Nothing."

"Come on, lets go in the water," she said and stood. As she was rolling up the legs of her jeans, she added, "It's too cold to swim, but we can get our feet wet."

"Nah, I'm good," he said. "I came to California to avoid being cold."

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully and bounded off toward the ocean.

Jim dug his toes into the warm sand. His stomach was in knots as he watched Pam kick at the small waves as they rolled onto the beach. This was his last day in California and maybe it was his last chance. He had really enjoyed this week with her, but as time wound down, he began to think that maybe it was time to let her go. He couldn't live forever in a world of What do you expect me to say and I can't. The cards had fallen and he would have to start playing the hand he was dealt.

Pam jogged back to him and sat down. "That was a lot colder than I thought it'd be. I love the beach. You know, sometimes I close the shop early and come out here to just watch the sunset."

"I bet it's beautiful," Jim replied. He turned to look at her. In that moment he knew that the night was going to kill him.

"Here's what I'm thinking," Pam said, smiling. "I say we go and buy a bottle of wine and make dinner. We have to make your last night here special."

He couldn't argue with that.

On the way back from the beach they had bought an expensive bottle of red wine for the occasion and stopped for an ice cream cone at a small roadside stand. By the time they got back to the bungalow, the sun was close to setting. Jim opened the wine and poured two glasses while Pam taught him how to make Maddie's Cajun chicken. They drank while they cooked, told jokes and just enjoyed being with each other again.

Their heads were swimming by the time dinner was ready, so they opted for water instead of wine. The chicken was delicious and Jim complimented her on it after every other bite. It made her smile every time.

For dessert they had store bought cheesecake and more wine. It definitely wasn't the cheesecake that made Jim's cheeks go red and it certainly wasn't the cheesecake that made Pam get the giggles.

"So good," Jim said and took another sip.

Pam finished the rest of her wine and ran her finger up and down the stem of the glass. "Well, it's no Maiolatesi wine, but it's still good."

Jim grinned. "Did I tell you how good dinner was? Did I - Did I mention that?"

"Only eight or nine thousand times," Pam said. Her grin was lopsided. "Thank you. I'm glad someone appreciates my cooking."

"I appreciate everything about you," he told her sincerely.

She blushed and hoped he would think it was from the wine.

An hour and a half later, the wine was gone and so was their buzz. They settled into the mundane activity of washing the dishes, but neither complained. Pam washed while Jim stood beside her and dried. Their conversations during the week had been mostly casual and fun, but the morning and separation was weighing heavily on them now. They had talked about Maddie and her husband and how they couldn't imagine how hard that must be.

"If I loved someone," Jim said quietly, "well, nevermind."

"Living without your soulmate," Pam said and stared into the sink. "I bet that hurts. Or living without true love. A sort of pain under your ribs, maybe, that never goes away. Maybe I heard that somewhere. I - I don't know."

Jim carefully set a plate down on the counter. "It's hard - I mean, I bet it's gotta be hard to live without... yeah. Even if you've got love, if it's not the right person or the right - well, I dunno. It's stupid. Too much wine."

"Too much wine," she repeated quietly.

Pam nodded slowly and took the dishcloth from Jim to dry her hands. She clenched her jaw and looked up into his eyes. She couldn't say what she wanted to out loud. The ring on her finger welded her mouth shut. She could only hope that he would just know.

He could see a spark within her eyes for the first time - it was the same spark he had deep within himself, the one he had been trying so hard to kill. Without thinking, he moved his hands to her waist.

The air was hot and he was suffocating, but he wasn't sure if it was for a lack of air or if it was the feel of the fabric of her jeans under his fingertips. He stared down at her, willing his eyes to say everything that he wouldn't repeat again. I love you. I just needed you to know. She already knew, anyway. He didn't dare move any further, because this time it was all more serious. There was a lot more to lose this time around - married ain't engaged, and it's a BFD.

When she made no move against him or for him, he allowed his hands to fall away from her hips. They hung meaningless at his sides, all the could have been's written in permanent ink on the skin.

He thought he saw disappointment flash in her eyes, but tears were clouding his own vision.

"Sorry," he said, his voice gruff as if he'd been sleeping or crying. He'd be doing one or the other soon enough. He took a slow, small step back and didn't break eye contact. The harsh realization that the time for words and baby steps was a year ago hit him quickly and his frown deepened. He'd put himself out there - twice - and she could only manage to stare at him.

He walked away from her for the second time. He paused at the doorway. He tapped lightly on the door frame and said quietly over his shoulder, "I'm not drunk."

He walked away without another word.

Pam pushed away from the counter and ran a hand through her hair. She wasn't sure what she wanted or needed to do. She thought about going after Jim, but she knew what she would say wouldn't be what he wanted to hear. She had obligations now and things were different... except in that all the things were the same. Her skin was a little tanner, but that was all. She was still the mousy receptionist and maybe that's all she would ever be.

She made herself a cup of tea and went to the patio to have a good cry.

She sat on the wicker sofa and pulled her knees up to her chest. She took a sip of tea and hoped it would wash down the heaviness. Rejection wasn't something she enjoyed doling out, but when it came to Jim it seemed like she always had plenty leftover for next time.

Next time, next time - as if Jim would do it all over again. She wanted desperately to fall into his arms, but the ring weighed heavily on her finger and mind. It was too late now, there was nothing she could do. She had said "I do" instead of "I can't" and that had sealed her - their - fate once and for all... but she couldn't help thinking what if? What if she had called off the wedding? What if she had leaped into Jim's arms in the kitchen? What if she went to his room right now?

Her body felt like lead. She couldn't go to Jim now. He probably didn't want to see her again, anyway. She couldn't repair the damage she had done this time. Her future was certain now. She would spend her days at the antique shop and come home to lukewarm feelings. She'd drown her sorrows with Maddie, who would undoubtedly tut and say "Well, life is life" just like she always did.

It wasn't all so bad, was it? It wasn't perfect... but she had given up on perfect a long time ago.

She hoped that would help erase the sinking feeling in her stomach because the tea certainly hadn't been helping any.