Time seems to slow down, actually lose its meaning when things become very, very clear. She doesn’t know how else to explain the way everything turned around. 

It takes her several seconds to even process that Jim is actually holding her for the first time in weeks, then a few more to battle through her confusion. Another to revel in stubbornness, another to remain in her anger and frustration, and yet another to remember how it was before; to remember her promise to the person she loved the most. 

Loves the most.

Her mother had always used the phrase ‘this too shall pass’ whenever things became difficult. She isn’t quite sure what she’s been waiting for, what could possibly cause all of this to pass, but she has not been waiting for their relationship to break, has not been waiting for things to get even worse. She knows now that she’s only been waiting for this moment -- just this -- when Jim finally puts his arms around her and chooses her first. She knows now, only now, that her faith in them had indeed been alive this entire time.

“I don’t want you to go,” she says when they pull away from each other at last. She is speaking her truth.

He fixes a strand of her hair that he’d unsettled while embracing her, tucking it gently behind her ear. 

“I don’t want me to go, either.”

She nods, relief flowing through her like a life-giving elixir. Jim turns, ducks his head into the cab to retrieve his belongings, and hands some cash to the extremely patient driver, who gives them both a smile as he drives away. She wonders what tale he’d spun for himself as he watched the two of them, surely suspecting there was no way one embrace could encompass all of the love they share. 

And yet, somehow, that’s exactly what it had done.

They stand side by side as the cab drives away, and Jim takes her hand. The light is magical this time of day, and she’s reminded of when she came home from New York: an afternoon when the situation was different, but the simple act of choosing each other was what made everything the same.

He turns to look at her, taking both of her hands in his. “I want you to tell me everything,” he says. “Even if it hurts. Please. Let’s find a way to start over.”

Her smile is one of relief but she shakes her head. 

“I don’t want to start over, Jim. We have a story, and this is part of it. I want us to grow from right here.”

He nods. She can see remnants of tears in his eyes as he moves to kiss her again, first her lips, then her cheeks, then her forehead. He wraps his arms around her, pressing her close against his chest and she can feel his heart pounding. It's music to her hears.

“I’m so sorry, Pam,” he says softly. “For everything, but mostly about the way this all began. I should have told you how I really felt about the job offer. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should have trusted that we’d make that decision together.”

“I’m sorry, too.” She moves her hands underneath his jacket, around his back, gripping his shirt tightly with her fingers to pull him in even closer. They hold each other in absolution and time slows down once again.

“How do you feel about it right now?” she asks him. “And please be honest.”

“I feel better right now than I have in six months, and that’s the god’s honest truth, Pam.”

She closes her eyes; all of it, every horrid minute they’d spent apart falling away like shedding skin. While their future is still uncertain, they’ve found a foothold once again in each other. 

“So... what about Athlead?” she asks, looking up at him.

There is no hint of ambivalence on his face. No hidden disappointment or hesitation. Instead she sees Jim, just Jim, herJim, as he tilts his head ever so slightly and gazes right back into her eyes.

“It’s just going to have to wait.”

She nods, knowing this is a conversation they will have at some point in the near future, but when they do, it will be together. Just as it always should have been.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

“I’m not,” he says, the same twinkle in his eye that was there the day she met him. “I’m doing it for us.” 

Pam will remember being on the deck of this boat forever, every instant, every glance, every word. 

It feels surreal; this place is the last thing she’d pictured whenever she imagined getting married. But that’s the way things seem to work with her and Jim, something unexpected always turning into something wonderful. And standing beneath the falls feels somewhat serendipitous; they were soaking wet when he proposed, and now it feels as if they’ve come full circle.

The spray fills the air and his hair is damp, tiny beads of condensation forming on the tip of his nose. She can only imagine what her own hair must look like. She worries for a moment that perhaps this wasn’t the best plan ‘C’ they could have come up with, as they still do have a ceremony to attend. But the feeling only lasts for a moment. One look into Jim’s eyes and she forgets everything else: her hair, the tie, the veil. The church. 

The office.

It’s not that she regrets inviting everyone from Dunder Mifflin to their wedding -- it does feel appropriate, after all, to have the group of people who spend the most time with her and Jim there to celebrate -- but at the end of the day, what they’ve decided to do feels right. It’s just her and Jim and a love so big it rivals the thundering roar of the cascading falls.

They’d decided to write their own vows, and Jim’s had been perfect. What he’d jokingly told her beforehand would be the “height of cheesiness” had actually been profound and wonderful and so very Jim. 

After he’s delivered them, he looks at her expectantly with a smile on his face unlike any she’s seen before, and suddenly her own vows, the ones she’d spent weeks putting together, finding the perfect words, are not the words she wants to say to him on their wedding day.

She looks around, realizing the only ones listening are Jim, the captain who’s officiating, and the documentary crew. Jim and Pam had been hesitant about letting the crew join them at all, but Delilah had promised the audio wouldn’t be used, so they’d agreed. 

“I had something written down but I don’t want to read it anymore,” Pam says to him. “I just want to tell you what’s in my heart, right now.” 

He smiles and nods his approval, squeezing her hands, rubbing the tops of her thumbs gently. 

She takes a deep breath. “I was thinking about what you said during your toast last night. I know that we both had to wait for each other for a really long time, and I used to wonder what we should have done, or could have done, to get back all of that time we wasted.” She shakes her head. “But the truth is… I just don’t see it that way anymore. I don’t think any of it was a waste. Because everything that happened led us here today.”

The noise of the falls is miraculously silent, and she feels so present in this moment as she stands before him, their eyes locked in an eternal gaze. Pam looks up at him now, and she can feel it, she will always believe it: Jim Halpert is a man deeply in love. 

“You said that all you had were moments with someone who saw you as a friend. And I did see you as my friend. You are my friend, Jim. You’re my best friend. The best friend I’ve ever had. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love you then the same way I do now, because I always have. And it’s the same way I’m going to love you forever.”

He nods, tears in his eyes. She takes his wedding band and slips it onto his finger, praying the boat doesn’t suddenly lurch and send it flying. At this point she’s ready for anything. 

“I’ve always dreamed about this moment: the perfect place, the perfect dress, the perfect veil, all of those things I’m supposed to want. But I realize now that none of that really matters. The only thing that matters is us.” She squeezes his hands, her smile so big it threatens to fly right off her face. 

The boat rocks gently beneath them and they sway together, new versions of the same two people who once did the same in the parking lot of the office with a shared set of earphones. 

He looks back at her, his smile a mirror image of her own. “Us,” he repeats.

It feels like a dream.

The days that follow Jim’s decision to stay in Scranton are wonderful; a euphoric, dizzying blur of reconnection and affirmation. Pam’s mother, well aware of the difficulties Pam and Jim had been going through, is happy to take the kids to allow them the time they desperately need together. He makes a single call to Athlead that he’s taking some personal time, then the phone stays off all weekend.

Touch returns first. It’s a sweet solace she can feel with every kiss, every caress; mapping every inch of each other’s bodies in eager rediscovery. It isn’t starting over, it’s picking up where they left off, and she is relieved to know that he’s clearly been missing her touch just as much as she’s been missing his.

Words return as well. They talk to each other, really talk about the important things; their family and everything that Jim’s missed, what they mean to him and how happy he is to be home. The chasm that existed between them feels like it’s sealing up as her heart reopens to him once again.

Most important to Pam, however, is the laughter. They laugh again together, and she realizes she’s felt its absence almost more than anything else. It's been so long since she's experienced that irreplaceable rush she'd get from Jim's specific type of humor perfectly complimenting her own, that having it back again is like finding some precious item she hadn't realized she'd lost. 

She has her Jim back. She recognizes him again, she recognizes them again, and everything finally feels the way it did before.

Perhaps a little bit too much like it did before.

They're back at Dunder Mifflin and she doesn’t want to doubt anything that’s occurred over the past few days, but she’s been shaken by Darryl’s incredulity that Jim could possibly be happy. She knows Darryl isn’t necessarily privy to everything that’s gone down over the past several months, but maybe that’s the problem. His is just a passing comment, an idle observation from an outsider, and it makes her question everything.

It’s nice to have you back, she’d said when Jim had taken a seat at his old desk, right next to her, giving her a familiar air high five. She’d meant it in every possible sense of the phrase. But is he truly feeling the same?

She watches Jim place a silver tinfoil crown (that she’d happily made for him) on Dwight’s head, proudly declaring him the new Assistant Assistant to the Regional Manager. Everyone claps and she looks at Jim’s grinning face, and although this is typically the kind of thing that would turn a boring day into an excellent one, she instead feels everything she thought was true collapsing around her.

What if his smile is something he's faking for her sake? What if it’s all just a lie?

Afraid she might start to cry, she bolts out of the bullpen and runs outside, knowing he’ll be a few steps behind her, but also having no idea what to say to him. He wants to make sure she’s okay, but she isn’t. She isn’t okay and if she doesn’t speak her truth right here, right now, she might never be okay again.

“Are you happy?” she blurts out.

He looks somewhat relieved, like this is something he can handle. “Yes, I'm happy.” 

“No, I know that you're, like, happy, and you had fun today. And that was fun,” she scrambles for her real meaning because she never wants to hold anything in again. “But what about a year from now? What about five years from now?” 

“Pam.” 

“Because I'm so glad you're back, baby, but I'm just—I was talking to Darryl, and he was talking about the trip, and I just feel like you're giving up so much.” 

He looks resolute; they’d talked this over already. 

“This was my decision, not yours. You didn't force me.” 

“I kind of forced you to do it.” 

“You did not force me to do this.” 

“Yes, I did.” 

She never actually forced him, not with her words, but she knows he’s staying for her. As much as she loves him for that, she can’t help but worry it’s not what he actually wants. 

He looks at her earnestly. “I don't know how else to tell you-” 

Suddenly the words she’s been holding in for months come flying out of her mouth and the truth crashes down around them like a falling house of cards. 

“I'm afraid that you're gonna resent me and I'm afraid that this is not enough for you, and... I'm afraid that I'm not enough for you.”

I'm afraid that I'm not enough for you.

She’s finally uttered her deepest fear aloud, perhaps the only reason she's felt so distant from him these past few months. She’s never felt more vulnerable in their entire relationship. To put it out there, plainly: that what she wants the most out of her life is to simply love and be loved. And if Jim wants more, how can she ever compete with that?

He looks at her, a slightly horrified look on his face. “Is that really what you think?”

She doesn’t know what to think anymore. He’s been so fantastic these past few days, doing everything she could ever possibly ask of him to prove he’s come back the right way, that he’s come all the way back. But she can’t stop the nagging doubt in her mind: that not only does he want more, he deserves more.

“Pam, what else can I say to convince you that I’m happy here? That no matter what happened, no matter what happens, everything I want is right here.” He rubs her shoulders. “It’s always been that way, I swear to you. Even when it didn’t seem like it.”

“I just worry you’re only staying because you feel like you have to. And you don’t, Jim.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he says. “I want to.”

She closes her eyes. She wants to believe him so badly. But is he only telling her what she wants to hear? And how will she ever know the truth, if that’s the case?

“Please,” he pleads with her. “Tell me what this is really about.”

She takes a deep breath. “I know in my heart I don’t need more than what we have to be happy but… I think you do, Jim. You’re so amazing, and talented, and you deserve to have everything you want. And I guess…  I’m scared that if you won’t admit it now, it’s only a matter of time until you do.” She shakes her head. “Or don’t. And then this whole mess just starts all over again.”

Jim looks somber and somewhat helpless, like he really doesn’t believe what she’s saying. But she knows deep down he’s better than this, he’s better than sitting in an office and selling paper and making foil crowns and obstacle courses to prank his old deskmate, the man who now signs his paycheck.

“I think…” she continues tentatively, “that you’re waiting for something.” She says it truthfully, determined to never again let unspoken doubt take root in her heart. “I don’t know if it’s Athlead, or something else someday, but I’m terrified that no matter how happy you say you are right now, you will always be destined for something greater.”

She doesn’t want them to reach another stalemate. What she wants more than anything is to believe that she’s enough for him, that whatever happens or doesn’t happen in the future, she won’t ever feel like a consolation prize.

“I just... I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

He looks at her and listens, really listens to what she’s saying. This is what should have happened six months ago, she thinks. This is the way that conversation should have begun, the way they, as a married couple, should have approached that decision. 

“I don’t want to hold you back from anything, Jim. I hate the way all of this went down, how it all happened. Because I would never want to make you feel like the things you want don’t matter.”

“Then don’t,” he says simply. He wipes a tear away from her eye. “Then trust me, trust that I’m telling you the truth when I say this is exactly what I want. That this, you and me, is what matters.”

She does trust him. But as much as she believes he really does want to stay with her, she knows there’s also a part of him that wishes he could go. She doesn’t want him to leave again for three months, it’s the last thing she wants. But they cannot have both right now, it’s impossible. 

Sometimes there is no compromise. There is only sacrifice.

“What if I told you right now that I want you to do this?” she says. “That I want you to go on this road trip with Darryl?”

She knows it’s a hypothetical, but there’s still a little bit of that old Pam buried inside her. Maybe there always will be. 

“Pam-”

“That I’m ready to do what it takes to try, to give this a real chance for you?”

She isn’t actually sure if she’s ready, but when she looks into his eyes, she knows what he’s given up for her. She wants to do the right thing for him now.

“Pam, you don’t have to say that. I know that’s not what you really want.”

“I know I don’t have to,” she says. She reaches up to hold his face between her hands. “And maybe it isn’t exactly what I want. But I do want you, Jim, and I want you to have everything you want, too.”

He shakes his head in protest, but she presses on.

“I just... I want you to be happy. That’s all I ever want.”

“I am happy, Pam. You are what makes me happy. I know I made some mistakes the past few months, and maybe I made you doubt that. But what can I possibly say, here and now, to convince you how much I want to be here with you?”

“I don’t know,” she says, and she means it. Maybe she'll never know. 

He puts his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. She can tell he’s frustrated. She’s frustrated with herself. What more does Jim have to do to convince her? But she can’t help that lingering feeling that something will always be missing for him. She just wants to make that feeling go away.

“I’m just scared,” she admits. “I’m so unsure about the future right now. I wish I was confident that I could give you everything you could possibly need.”

He leans back and tilts her chin up with his finger to look at him. 

“Pam, I need you to hear me,” he says. “I need you to believe me when I tell you that our future is up to us. To you and me, okay? Just us.”

She looks up at him, nodding, warm tears streaming down her face.  

“There’s no way for us to predict the future, you know that. We don’t know what’s going to come our way. But there might always be something on the horizon for either of us. And I guess... what I need from you... is to be okay with that, Pam.” 

She sniffles a bit and takes a deep breath, listening.

“There are going to be times where we both might want or need something that comes from outside each other, and if and when that happens, I need you to know that the love I have for you will always still be more than enough.”

She nods, the things he’s saying actually starting to make sense.

“Remember back when I interviewed for that job at corporate? Before we got together? David Wallace asked me where I saw myself in ten years. For the long haul. And Pam, I never told you this, but... even then, the only thing I saw with absolute clarity was you. That’s still the truth, that's still my truth.” 

She closes her eyes, absorbing every word.

“But just because at some point in the future I might want something more, it doesn’t mean I could ever love you any less.”

He grips her shoulders again, and looks into her eyes. She reaches up to wipe the tears sliding down her own cheeks. 

“Pam, I love you,” he says. “More than anything in the world. No matter what job I had, what was going on around me, whatever life threw my way, the one thing that always stayed the same was that I adored you.”

“I know you love me, Jim,” she says. “I don’t want you to think I question that.” 

His eyes suddenly widen as if realizing something. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I actually don’t think you ever really understood how much I’ve always loved you.” 

He doesn’t seem upset or saddened by this apparent epiphany, but she can see in his eyes his mind at work, mulling something over, attempting to figure out some unsolvable equation. 

“I never had a reason to think you doubted that until now. But this entire thing has opened my eyes.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“I mean, that if you don’t believe that I’m serious, that I’m choosing to stay with you because it’s what I really want, I’m going to figure out a way to prove that to you.”

She squints, a bit confused, and slightly unsure of how he could possibly prove such a thing. She certainly doesn't want to make him think this is something he now has to shoulder as well.

“Jim, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he grins, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I want to.”