A/N: I’m taking a small break from the poetry in this chapter and using a Dottie quote for inspiration instead. Man, if I had a time machine I would so go back to the 1920s and drink a martini with that woman. So sassy.

"It's a small apartment, I've barely enough room to lay my hat and a few friends."

-- Dorothy Parker

She hasn’t lived alone since... well, she’s never lived alone. There’s always been someone else with her, someone to help clean up a mess, someone to remind her about bills, someone to sit in front of the TV with. But those days are over. When she calls off the wedding, she decides it’s prudent to go apartment hunting.

On a Sunday afternoon she falls in love with a tiny apartment that looks like it time-traveled from 1964. The kitchen cabinets are bubblegum pink and the bedroom has a creaky hardwood floor. There is nothing glamorous or special about the place, but she feels a swelling pride when she signs the lease because only her name is on that piece of paper. That day independence is spelled P-A-M B-E-E-S-L-Y.

She throws a low-key housewarming party and her best friends come over, bearing a starter-pack of groceries and a few bottles of wine. She can’t remember the last time she’s had a girl’s night (has she ever had one?). When the night winds down and the girls go home, she stands in the kitchen and curls her toes against the cool tile floor. She leaves the wine glasses on the table to be washed in the morning just because she can. Pam Beesly answers to no one! She tosses a copy of “American Artist” magazine onto the floor, again just because she can. No one’s here to complain about her clutter. No one can complain about tubes of paint left on the kitchen counter or paintbrushes misplaced in the silverware drawer.

If she’s honest, it’s actually a little scary. This makes her accountable, responsible in the fullest way. She’s in complete control of her life.

Theoretically.

She can decide what groceries to buy, what time to get up in the morning, and what to watch on TV at night... but she’s having a tough time turning off emotions. She can control what brand of cereal to buy and what station to tune the car radio to, but she can’t seem to control who she loves.

Distant memories cloud her vision. When she’s alone at night, she thinks about friendship and love confessions and missed chances.

She wishes she could put as much distance between them as he did.