He couldn’t help but stare at her as she leaned against the railing. Curls trailing down a dipped back on her gown, the pearls and beads sparkling under the stars, bright against the midnight black sky. His tie was relaxed around his neck, and he’d shrugged out of his jacket long ago. He went up behind her quietly, wrapping his arms tightly around her cinched waist, breathing in the scent of the perfume on her neck. She turned her face towards his, rested her cheek against his floppy hair. And they smiled.
I, Pamela Morgan Beesley, take you, James Matthew Halpert, as my lawfully wedded husband, my constant friend, my faithful partner, and the love of my life.
It had been 2,061 days from the moment they met, to the moment he picked her up for their first date, still dressed for an interview. It’d taken them 17 hours to forgive after a long, tearful conversation, and another 3 hours to finally say “I love you.” It’d taken him 10,080 minutes before he’d found himself almost skipping out of a jewelry store, a ring in his pocket, and the confidence to know that he was with the woman who’d end up wearing it. 448 days until he got down on one knee in the pouring rain in front of a gas station. 279 more days until he watched her walk down the aisle towards him, her skin radiant in an ivory taffeta dress.
But in that moment, the glorious seconds of watching her come down an aisle to marry him, were nothing but spectacular. Emotions raced through him that he couldn’t remember now, a sheen of tears glistening in his eyes, her smile brilliant as their eyes locked. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she stood before him, looking down shyly, as they grasped trembling hands.
“You look beautiful,” He thought he’d whispered, but he couldn’t be sure. The words that tumbled from his mouth could have been gibberish for all he knew. All he could think of was how stunning she looked, how pieces of her hair fell against her cheek, how the curve of her shoulder looked alongside the smooth fabric of her dress.
In the presence of God, our families, and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful companion.
He’d fallen in love with her simply. He’d thought he’d been in love before, but… Wow. When he’d walked into Dunder Mifflin, and she’d stood from the reception desk, smoothing her skirt and pushing her hair behind her ears, he’d felt something inside of him become warm and full. When she’d told him she was engaged, the ache he felt inside was… God, there was just nothing that compared to that. There she was – beautiful, sweet, hilarious, smart. Everything he’d ever wanted in a woman was standing before him, with another man’s ring on her finger.
He’d gone home that night after Cugino’s and almost cried when he reached his bed. He’d almost cried like a little girl with a crush. But he’d smiled, and reserved himself to loving her quietly. They’d bonded over their mutual enjoyment of a good Dwight prank, and he stood behind her in her desire to become an artist. She pushed him to live his dreams, and he ached to tell her how he felt. But she wasn’t his.
In sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow.
Michael had told him never to give up. “Engaged ain’t married,” he’d said. So he’d taken their lives in his hands and he’d pressed a kiss to her lips and he felt her arms wrap around him and the passion on her tongue. And he’d heard her deny him.
He hurt in places he never believed he could hurt. Right down to his toes. Between his fingers. Behind his ears. Every cell of his skin twinged in pain. And it never went away.
He’d been with other women. His first girlfriend in high school, Steph. His girlfriend in college, Amy. Katy, the purse girl. And finally Karen. But none of them were Pam.
He’d wanted things to work with Karen. He’d wanted to want her the way he had wanted Pam, for so, so long. It was a begging kind of want. Where he spent nights up at her place, watching her sleep carefully under the 1,200 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, but couldn’t bear to pull her into his arms and just hold her. He begged himself to allow himself to love her, to allow himself to let her love him, to forget about the curly haired receptionist. She’d said no; she’d made her decision. And he couldn’t let her just take it back with a simple cup of coffee.
But then at the beach… He’d taken a risk on Casino Night to tell her how he felt. And at the beach she’d returned the favor. He’d gazed at her all day in secret, watching the polka dotted halter top of her bathing suit against the beginning pink of a sunburn on her pale skin. He’d pushed the ideas from his mind as he played in the sand with Karen, but that night… That night under the stars when she’d made an impassioned speech.
“I called my wedding off because of you… There were lots of reasons to call it off, but none of them mattered until I met you.” And that you was really him. And then they met in the murky water of the lake, and they’d hugged, and he inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume mixed with coconut sunblock and salty sweat, and it took everything in him not to take her face in his hands and kiss the breath from her lips.
And then the note. The note that when David Wallace had asked him where he saw himself in ten years, all he could picture in his head was a blue Cape Cod styled house with a white picket fence, and a tall little boy and a curly haired little girl and her… Pam, holding a fluffy gray dog, and smiling that smile that only he knew. The smile that even her long lost fiancé didn’t know.
And he knew that no matter what, she was the one that he wanted to be with.
I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you.
She was his. In every way possible. The ring on her finger meant that it was going to be forever. He’d seen her through one of New York’s most prestigious art schools, and she’d inspired him to want to do better at work. She’d even quit Dunder Mifflin on a whim, and he couldn’t help by grin at her desire to sell paper, despite his concern as to how they were going to pay their mortgage. The point was that they had a mortgage. Together. His name and hers, for thirty years. His family home, where he’d spent every Christmas since he was born, where he had started to imagine raising his own family. With his wife. The love of his life.
He felt lucky. He felt lucky because he saw how she looked at him. Adoration in her eyes, and a smile on her lips, and he felt lucky. He felt lucky when she grabbed his hand to race towards the ducks in the water on Lake Scranton, pulling pieces of French bread apart to feed them. He felt lucky watching her fold the laundry, a pair of his boxers in one hand, and a thin camisole of hers in the other. He felt lucky now, holding her against the railing of the country club where the celebration of their marriage was taking place just meters away. He felt lucky glancing down at her left hand, seeing the diamonds sparkle in the light cascading down from the ballroom behind them.
I will cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life.
She looked up at him, grinning.
“So, husband, how do you feel?”
He felt… Wow. How to describe that feeling. He felt full. He felt warm.
He felt like his cheeks were going to break from smiling.
He felt like his fingers and toes would never stop tingling with joy.
He felt like he could literally fly. Like, if he jumped off the balcony of the country club that he was standing on with his wife, he’d actually float. Like he’d suddenly become weightless. Like gravity could pull him up and he’d just laugh and grin and he was so, ridiculously excited and happy.
He felt content. He felt blissful.
He felt loved.
It’d taken them years to get to the moment they were living. Standing in the cool breeze under the starlit sky. His arms wrapped around her. Her shimmying closer to him, snuggling into his chest. Rings on their left hand ring fingers. Dreams in their heads and hearts that they had no intention of giving up. Because they were together. They were one. They were each other’s, always.
For all the days of their lives.
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm getting married in June. And I can't stop thinking about weddings. Nor can I stop listening to Matt Wertz's "Sweetness in Starlight." Hence, this.
Go forth and read.
But, as a reminder, I own nothing of these characters. Or of the song. But, I did just have my bridal shower, and I do own lots of cool new stuff.
Which I would gladly trade for the rights to JAM. You hear that, Office people? Alllllll the new kitchen stuff could be yours, should the price be right :)
And now - READ!!!!!!!!!!!!
Go forth and read.
But, as a reminder, I own nothing of these characters. Or of the song. But, I did just have my bridal shower, and I do own lots of cool new stuff.
Which I would gladly trade for the rights to JAM. You hear that, Office people? Alllllll the new kitchen stuff could be yours, should the price be right :)
And now - READ!!!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter End Notes:
I make no apologies for how incredibly flufftastic this is.
I would, however, LOVE some reviews :) Thanks for reading!
I would, however, LOVE some reviews :) Thanks for reading!
stjoespirit04 is the author of 25 other stories.
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