The faded green screen door slammed with a creak behind Jim as he stepped out onto the back porch. Pam was standing near the back stairs with her arms wrapped around herself. She looked so much smaller than he ever remembered.

He stood next to her and put his hands in his pockets.

"I can't believe all the snow melted," he said quietly. "I'm sure we'll get more before the month's over. It hasn't -"

"Don't," she whispered. "Please, don't."

He nodded even though he was sure she wasn't looking at him. He looked up at the sky. "It's just... I mean, well, you hurt me so badly, you know? I used to feel stupid admitting that. I couldn't talk to anyone about it for the longest, longest time. After California... I just couldn't keep it inside anymore. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I was just... well, I was just. That's the problem. I was nothing. You destroyed me. Just utterly demolished me and I guess part of the problem was that I let you. I was disappointed in a part of myself, the part that allowed me to be in love with you when you clearly didn't feel the same way. You crushed me - more than once, and it just seemed so easy for you. I -"

"You think it was easy?" Pam interrupted. She wiped at her eyes to keep the tears from falling and turned to face him. Her voice was fierce as she continued, "You think waking up next to him every morning and wishing he was someone else was easy? You think it was easy to walk down the aisle knowing that I was making a mistake? I've lived in obligation for ten years and in guilt for two and a half, and you think that's easy? Jim, do you know what's worse than having a fiancé and being in love with another man?"

Jim couldn't speak. His jaw clenched and he had to fight the impulse to reach out to her. He simply shook his head.

When she replied, the anger had left her voice and tears welled visibly at the corners of her eyes. "Having a husband and being in love with another man."

She continued, "Reading another man's letters at the breakfast table he built, hiding them under the newspaper when he walks into the room and biting my bottom lip because God I'm sure he saw this time and he's going to ask questions... but he never does, he never sees. He kisses my cheek and goes to work and I take that stack of letters from another man and I sit on the porch with a cup of tea and re-read them all afternoon... can you imagine that?"

Jim opened his mouth to speak, but she put her index finger on his lips to silence him.

"Is it easy to stay in a relationship just because you feel so guilty for not being in love? Is it easy to think in terms of obligation instead of love?" she said. "For every time you've missed me, I've missed you, okay? For every sleepless night you've had, I've been awake too. Misery loves company, Jim, and it doesn't matter if two people are miserable on opposite sides of the country... but I'm sick of being miserable. I want to be happy, Jim. I want love... and I want you."

She stared down at her shoes and wrung her hands. "Sometimes I worry they're mutually exclusive."

His throat was scratchy and he felt like screaming. He was convinced there wasn't enough space in the universe to hold the emotions waiting to burst through his chest. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

"They're not," he replied.

He reached out and gingerly put his hands on her hips. He looked down into her eyes and laughed nervously. "I, uh... well, the last two times I did this, it didn't turn out so well, so I'm a little skittish, Beesly."

She smiled widely and said softly, "I won't pull away this time."

He leaned down to kiss her and paused. He could see the fear in her eyes, like he was going to jump back and yell "Gotcha! How's it feel?" He shook his head slowly and brought his thumb up to her face to gently wipe away her tears.

He pressed his forehead to hers, smiled and whispered, "Hey, no crying, okay? I'm making that a rule."

"Shut up," she laughed and pressed her lips to his.

It wasn't like before. He thought it was strange that all he could manage to think was how different it was, but somehow it seemed to fit. Like them. They fit. They were a puzzle and somehow some pieces had been lost, but together they had managed to find them and patch together the crazy little picture that was them.

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "So, you got any big plans for the rest of the year? Gonna bum around Europe and find yourself?"

"Actually," she said and looked up at him, "I'm gonna enroll in some classes and get a divorce, so... that's gonna be fun, I think."