“I. AM. NOT. BROKEN. PAM,” Jim yelled from across the hotel room. 

“I didn’t say that you were! But-.”

“No. NO,” Jim said, and turned his back on her, using the window as an excuse to stop listening. 

“Jim, please,” he heard and a hand pulled him around to face her. Her lip trembled slightly, but her jaw was set. “Please don’t push me away.”

X THIRTY MINUTES EARLIER X

The Halperts needed a break from this whole nightmarish experience. 

Chemo, round two, had been even worse than round one, as the doctor’s warned them that it would be. So many restless nights, so many exhausting days, so many unspoken, terrifying questions passing between them, Jim and Pam needed a weekend to recoup...just the two of them. 

That’s why, when one morning over breakfast Pam suggested at random that they take a weekend trip back to Niagara Falls, Jim agreed in a heartbeat. 

After all, they needed this. 

On Friday morning, they had dropped Cece off at Grandma’s and spent two fantastic days together, laughing and dancing and enjoying each other in ways that they hadn’t been able to since the diagnosis. It was a different kind of much needed medicine, one they should’ve taken sooner. 

Everything was going so well that for a moment Jim almost forgot that an illness was even looming over them to begin with. 

Almost. 

Looking back, he supposed he’d just pushed himself too hard. He’d just completed week six of chemotherapy. He was weak. He was tired. Maybe he hadn’t eaten that morning. Anything could’ve contributed to what happened. Not that it wasn’t worth it, to stay up late playing cards with his wife or to relive the boat ride where they sealed their marriage, to visit the restaurants they’d loved or to walk trails, just talking, for hours, but maybe he’d been irresponsible. He didn’t know.

All he knew was that on the very last day of their stay, as he and Pam strolled through a little park about a mile from their hotel, talking and laughing in the chilly morning air, his exploits from the previous two days came calling to haunt him. 

It all happened suddenly, as unusual things normally do. He was feeling fine, almost normal, when he became spontaneously exhausted, the kind where his legs felt like they were filled with lead. He pushed it off, though, and kept walking, not wishing to ruin Pam’s morning. She looked so happy, talking about the flowers and the trees and the future. 

Then, just as the sun itself fell behind clouds, casting the couple into shade, shadowy dots popped into Jim’s line of vision. He stopped walking instinctively and rubbed his eyes, but it only made things worse. 

Pam, lost in conversation, had kept walking several feet before noticing his absence. He closed his eyes again, dreading the moment she turned around. 

“Hey,” he heard finally, very close to his face. 

She still had the remnant of a smile left in her eyes when he looked into them, concentrating through spotty vision to focus. 

Her face fell when she looked at him. She knew something was wrong. 

“Jim,” she said softly, bending to look into his eyes. “Are you okay?” 

Her frown confirmed that she already knew the answer. 

“I don’t know,” he breathed, swaying slightly. “I think I just need to sit for a second.”

“Okay,” she whispered, and he felt her guide him to a park bench. He collapsed roughly onto it, placing his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. 

He could feel Pam’s stare along with other passersby as she sat beside him with a hand on his back.

So humiliating. 

“What do I need to do,” she asked calmly after a moment. 

“Nothing. I’m okay,” he grunted. He desperately wanted to keep this as low key as possible. No need to make a scene. 

But just then, his head gave a dizzying lurch and the world began to spin around him. Dreading the worst, he pushed himself up and stumbled to the nearest tree where he doubled over and vomited into the grass. 

He soon felt Pam rubbing soft circles on his back as he struggled to pull himself together, mortified that this was actually happening...in public. 

Behind him he heard a stranger’s voice, asking Pam if he was okay, and if they needed a ride back to their hotel. 

He could feel the blood rising in his face as he stood with his back turned in an effort to shield himself from any onlookers. 

“Say no. Please, say no,” he thought, but to much dismay, he heard Pam gratefully accept. 

Great. Now he would have to face them. The walk of shame...

“Jim,” he heard beside him. “That family is going to give us a ride back to the hotel so you don’t have to walk. They’re really nice.”

A fresh wave of embarrassment swept over him and he felt a surge of resentment towards Pam, but knowing his eyes would betray his anger, he continued to stare at the ground. 

“I don’t need any help,” he choked, suppressing a gag as the spinning continued. 

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I told them you’ve been taking chemo,” she added. 

A sickening swoop of anger churned alongside the nausea in his stomach. 

“You told them,” he asked accusingly, turning for the first time to look at her. 

She searched his face with a confused expression, but he offered her back only a cold stare. 

“I don’t want their pity,” he snapped at her. 

“It’s not pity. They’re just-.”

“I don’t need their help and I don’t need yours. Okay,” he spat, his vision finally clearing as he turned to face his humiliation alone. 

XXX

Jim accepted the strangers’ help, making small talk with them on the way back to the hotel, all the while conscious of Pam’s silence beside him. He thanked them when they dropped them off and after a casual wave goodbye, walked beside his wife in silence to the elevator and again to the room. 

When the the door closed behind him, Pam went immediately into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. He stared after her for a moment, aware that he had probably cut her deeply. He sighed, running a hand over his face. 

What was he supposed to do? 

It was several long minutes before Pam reappeared again, pointedly avoiding him, and sitting across the room. 

“Hey,” he said softly. 

She ignored him. 

“Pam,” he tried again. 

She turned on the TV. 

“Look, I’m sorry.”

She turned the volume up. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” he yelled over the news. 

That awoke the beast. 

She switched the TV off and pushed herself up to face him. Fury flashed in her eyes, and Jim knew he’d gone one step too far. 

“I’M being ridiculous,” she hissed. “Me??”

“Yes,” Jim said back, a little less confidently, but too far in to back out now. “You. I just want to talk this out so I can help us get back to having fun.”

“Oh so NOW you want my help,” she smiled fakely. “I thought you didn’t need anyone’s help.”

Jim closed his eyes and breathed deeply, feeling his blood pressure rise. 

“I thought you could do this all by yourself,” she mocked. “You don’t need me here to take care of you!”

All the humiliation and shame that Jim had been feeling finally exploded in a shower of angry sparks. 

“I. AM. NOT. BROKEN. PAM,” Jim yelled from across the hotel room. 

“I didn’t say that you were! But-.”

“No. NO,” Jim said, and turned his back on her, using the window as an excuse to stop listening. 

“Jim, please,” he heard and a hand pulled him around to face her. Her lip trembled slightly, but her jaw was set. “Please don’t push me away.”

They spent the next few moments in stoney silence, staring each other down in an emotional standoff. Pam honestly looked more worried than angry, and Jim felt guilt soften his temper. The circumstances had been against her for months. She deserved better than for him to fight her too. 

She just wouldn’t stop staring into his eyes, and Jim got the uncomfortable feeling that she was reading his thoughts, searching him for something hidden, for the real problem. Then, without looking away, she reached out for his clenched, jittery hands. 

She’d found what she was looking for. 

“Do you doubt that I love you,” she asked softly, as one would when comforting a child. 

Jim stared down at his feet, knowing he’d been caught. No part of him felt bold enough to face her right now. He knew that Pam knew him fully, but vulnerability had never really been his strong suit. 

He sighed, smiling slightly as he shook his head, feeling emotion build in his own eyes. 

But he knew she would not leave without an answer. 

“I doubt...that I am worth...,” he choked in a strangled voice, “This kind of love.”

He broke only slightly at the end, his watery eyes searching desperately around the room for anything to look at but her. 

Pam didn’t respond, and Jim felt the compulsive need to take back everything he had just confided. He was probably just tired. Right?

“I’m okay,” he lied finally, as truthfully as he could. 

He could not bring himself to look at her, to give himself any clue as to how she must see him now. No jokes, no funny one liners, just Jim, pure and unfiltered. He could feel burning tears brimming at the surface of his eyelids, yet they were never allowed to spill over. 

Then he finally heard her whisper. 

“You. Are not. Okay,” the voice said through tight lips. “Stop telling me you’re okay.”

Then Pam, strong, beautiful, amazing Pam, guided his chin back up to face her, the way she always did. 

“Look at me,” she demanded gently, and he forced himself to look her in the eyes, to allow her access to his insecurities. “You have cancer, Jim...,” he heard. “None of this is “okay”.

Jim shook his head. At what, he didn’t know. So many things were wrong. 

“I’m just so...embarrassed that I can’t even...I mean I’m just not able-.”

“I’m not embarrassed of you,” Pam interrupted. “Not in front of anyone.”

Jim took several deep breaths, at a loss for words to describe the chaos of things he was feeling in his veins. He opened his mouth and closed it several times while she waited patiently. 

“I just need some air,” he decided on finally, pulling away from her grasp to walk out on the balcony. 

She watched him leave without a word. 

Once outside, he sat for awhile, alone with himself. He put in a pair of tattered earbuds that he’d found in his jacket pocket and turned his music on shuffle. Who cares what played as long as it drowned his thoughts, drowned him for that matter. Eventually, he lost all track of time. 

Then, once all was still, the music, his thoughts, the outside world, his wife inside, lying curled on the bed, he opened the door again.  

She was not asleep, and turned her head to watch him as he approached. She smiled smally at him. He understood, and returned it, hen reached out for her warm hands, intertwining her delicate fingers with his own.

He pulled her close and wrapped his arm around her, savoring the curve of her back, the smell of her skin. He reached up slowly and pushed a strand of hair behind her ears, leaving behind one of his earbuds in its wake. 

They swayed together, in rhythm again to the melody between them. It sang softly:

     Why’d you up and run away?

     Why’d you up and run away from me, darling?

     Because you don’t have to, my serial doubter. 

     Because you don’t have to, my love. 

“I’m not okay. You’re not okay. And that’s okay,” Jim whispered into her kiss as they danced together in the dark, taking comfort while they still could, in each other’s presence,  even in the doubt. 

Because for now, Jim was not yet broken.