Pam's divorce had been about as much fun as she expected it would be. Her marriage had been declared "irretrievably broken" and her overpriced lawyer hammered the details out with Roy's overpriced lawyer. She found out the hard way that half of not-a-hell-of-a-lot wasn't going to get her through the rest of the year, so she took a job at a vintage store. It was nothing compared to the antique shop, but it paid the bills and the schedule was flexible. She threw herself into her graphic design classes and focused on her relationship with Jim.

They had done a lot of talking and healing in their first few months together. The first real milestone had been the night she received the divorce papers from her lawyer.

Her lawyer's assistant had dropped the papers off in the middle of dinner. Pam ran her hand over the manilla envelope and could almost feel her entire future radiating from inside.

After dinner was over and the table was cleared, Pam set the envelope on the table and stared at it.

"What's that?" Jim asked.

"The papers," she answered. "All ready for me to sign."

Jim slid into the seat next to her. "What's the matter?"

"It's just..." She looked up at him. "There's ten years of my life in this envelope. It's a little surreal. Don't get me wrong, I want to sign them. I want to officially start this new chapter, this new book with you, but... it's still weird. Ten years. Wasted. Boiled down to a stack of paper and a couple signatures."

"It's hard to throw away a decade of memories," Jim agreed.

Pam tore open the envelope. "I guess. I suppose I won't be throwing them away, though. Maybe I needed to be with Roy. Maybe in some strange way he helped me become who I am. I was definitely a different person in high school before we started dating. All that I went through with him, good and bad, it made me somebody. Sometimes I didn't like that somebody, that person I was, but... well, she brought me to you. It just took a year or so more than it should have."

She flipped through the papers, stopping at all the places her lawyer had tabbed. She signed slowly, wanting to make it really count. She felt like there should be a bigger ceremony for something like this, like she should be in a court room surrounded by her family and news cameras. It's a big deal and it hurts, but she wants to remember it. She wants to remember the moment she became new.

After she signed on the very last dotted line, she set down her pen and smiled warmly. She looked up at Jim and said, "Well, it's official. I just lost half my stuff."

"Yeah, but you gained a little something, too," Jim said.

"So," she asked playfully, "how does it feel to be dating a divorcée?"

Jim rubbed his chin and pretended to think it over. "Not as scandalous as I thought it would be, so... a little disappointing. I guess you're lucky that your divorcée status isn't the reason I'm with you."

Pam slid the papers back into the manilla envelope and took a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"

"Well, you just did, but I'll give you another one," he replied, smiling warmly. "Shoot."

She took another deep breath and shifted in her chair. She played with her necklace and asked softly, "Why are you with me?"

"You were worth the wait," he said and took her hand. "And as a wise woman once said, there's no going back once you've found the one."

"Jim," she replied, "you were the first to say this and I've felt it for a long time, and I think it's time I said it back... I love you."