The morning after her coal walk, Pam awakens with the soles of her feet in absolute agony, exactly as she’d expected. Weirdly enough she can’t seem to locate any actual physical burns, and wonders if the pain is mostly in her head. Just in case, she spends most of the weekend with two bags of frozen peas attached to each foot with matching purple hair ties, feeling a bit more like Michael than she wants to. 

Not once does she experience an ounce of regret. 

She should be heartbroken over Jim. She should be drowning herself in Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food and watching An Affair to Remember. But strangely, she doesn’t feel as sad as she thought she might. She still wants him, yes, and maybe there’s a part of her that always will. But wanting and needing are two very different kinds of desire and she’s learned to appreciate the difference.

Her mother comes over to visit on Sunday and Pam tells her the entire story of what happened at the beach: how Jim had admitted he wasn’t the same anymore, but that he missed her, too. That they’ve cleared the air between them at last. 

Mostly, that she’d finally been brave. That’s the thing that keeps her going. Her mom is really proud of her, and she's glad. She’s proud of herself, too.

When she goes back to the office, the first couple of days are a little awkward. Karen sort of avoids her, which makes sense after what had gone down that night. Jim doesn’t, however, and she’s relieved to sense a very real shift between them. Whenever she does catch his eye now, he smiles. If there’s an opportunity to share a joke, he takes it. Somehow, this is enough to make her believe they might actually be okay. Maybe they won’t be exactly what she’d wished or imagined – she won’t get to feel his hands at her waist or his lips pressed against hers again – but that painful distance between them has evaporated. She hopes, at the very least, she might get to see that sparkle back in his eyes before he leaves. Even just once.

On Wednesday, he comes into the office with a new haircut for his interview. She doesn’t really care for it; it looks sort of corporate, which is exactly what he must be going for, but it’s not Jim. Still, she wants to know this new Jim, to be his friend. She’s promised she would. Even though he doesn’t really look like himself, he still looks nice, and she tells him so. Fancy New Beesly doesn’t hold back.

As for the note she sends with him to New York, there is no grand plan, no underhanded scheme. She decides to do it completely spontaneously, and only because of the way Karen asks her to make copies of their sales reports. 

On any other day Pam wouldn’t blink at the request; even though it’s something Karen could easily do herself, she’s usually happy to help the salespeople with tasks that might keep them from making sales. But today, Karen’s request feels different. It seems territorial, and Pam has to wonder why. Why, after Jim had obviously chosen Karen, does his girlfriend still appear threatened?

She tells herself the medal is to wish him luck, to be a good friend. That’s all. But she can’t deny that Karen’s behavior has given her an opening that she’d be a fool to let slip by. So she makes Karen’s copies. And she seizes an opportunity. There’s a part of her that hopes it might remind Jim of who he used to be: that paper salesman who was in love with the receptionist. 

Maybe it’s a long shot, but the receptionist who’s still in love with the paper salesman figures it can’t hurt to try. 

The documentary crew have been very careful with her this week. It’s strange the way they seem to be walking on eggshells whenever they sit her down for an interview. She rarely cares or even thinks about how the crew sees her love life but by Thursday, Delilah has a look on her face that’s so sympathetic, Pam is beginning to think this whole thing has had a bigger effect on the producer than on her.

“How are you doing?” Delilah asks in a voice that’s weirdly reminiscent of her mother’s.

Pam sighs. “I’m fine. You keep saying that like I’m going to burst into tears or something.”

“Sorry. I’m just a little surprised at how this all panned out, to be honest.”

Pam raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

Delilah, to her credit, appears to catch herself saying too much and switches gears. “Nothing. I guess… you said something yesterday after Jim left that I can’t really get out of my head. You said… that you just want him to be happy.”

“I did. I do.”

Delilah cocks her head, appearing a little confused. “Well, that’s a very noble sentiment, but… what about your own happiness?”

Pam thinks about this for a moment. She does want to be happy, and hopes she will be someday. But imagining her friend genuinely content, getting this promotion, and going after the things he wants does make her happy. It’s hard to explain.

Maybe that’s what love is.

She shakes her head. “I think… that whatever’s meant to be will be. And that whatever happens with Jim, I’m going to be just fine.” 

She has to tell herself this: that she will feel the same way about someone else someday as she does now about Jim. That she will laugh again, that she’ll smile again with someone the way she always had with him.

Someday.

Delilah clears her throat. “So who do you think is going to get that corporate position? I mean, if Jim gets it, he won’t be coming back to Scranton.” 

The thought of him far away from her once again sends a sharp ache straight to her belly. She can’t help it. 

“I haven't heard anything, but I bet Jim got the job,” she says. “I mean, why wouldn't he? He's totally qualified, and smart, everyone loves him… and, if he never comes back again... that's okay. We're friends. And I'm sure we'll stay friends.”

“I hope so,” Delilah says. “You two always seemed to have such a special bond.” The producer’s voice is somewhat wistful, and for a moment Pam wonders if she’d been secretly rooting for her and Jim to end up together all along.

“You think so?”

Delilah nods. “Maybe it’s weird of me to say but… after the other night, we all sort of thought that would be it, you know? I guess I’m just sitting here wondering… why couldn’t you guys make it work?”

Delilah’s frankness surprises her. Pam tries to cycle through every interview she’d ever done with the crew, every moment she’d experienced with Jim since they’d arrived. She’s not surprised anymore that they interpreted what they’d seen in such a way, but it does surprise her that any of them actually cared so much.

She doesn’t have an explanation for the other night that would satisfy Delilah, or anyone, for that matter. More words of substance had transpired between herself and Jim in those few minutes by the lake than in the many years they’d known each other. But at the end of the day, the answer is probably simple, and painfully so.

“We just… we never got the timing right, you know? I shut him down, and then he did the same to me…” Pam realizes that the crew is actually unaware of what had transpired between them in the parking lot last May, but she’s not about to get into all that now. “But you know what? It's okay. I'm totally fine. Everything is gonna be totally–”

She’s about to tell Delilah that everything is going to be okay when the door to the conference room opens. Before she even has a chance to wonder what shenanigans Michael must be up to this time, Jim pokes his head in.

“Pam,” he says, then after briefly turning to offer Delilah an apology for interrupting, "um… are you free for dinner tonight?”

His invitation confuses her on every possible level, but she doesn’t need time to think. She doesn’t even need time to breathe. There’s only one word left she has on reserve for Jim, and she cannot say it fast enough.

“Yes,” she says automatically.

He smiles, and she can feel her heart bursting in a way it never has before. He’s back. It doesn’t matter what he did to his hair. Jim, her Jim, is back.

“All right,” he grins. “Then… it’s a date.”

The sparkle is back in his eyes and it flickers not with relief, but with absolution. She has no concept of how, or why, but it’s almost as if everything that happened before this moment no longer exists.

He closes the door, as if her interview with the documentary crew somehow takes precedence over such a momentous occasion.

…it’s a date. 

Pam can’t fully process anything other than her immediate euphoria, which she can tell is all over her face. The tears that have been threatening to spill all week over losing him for good are finally making an appearance, but this time, they’re tears of happiness. 

Her happiness.

She turns back to Delilah, whose mouth is hanging open, and tries to remember what they were talking about. 

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” 

Delilah turns to look at Emily, who’s operating the camera today. She’s still looking through the viewfinder, grinning like an absolute idiot. “What just happened?”

“I think Jim just asked Pam out on a date,” Emily replies helpfully.

“But… what about the job interview? What about Karen?” Delilah looks around. “What the hell is going on?”

Emily shrugs. She’s peeking around her camera, eyeing Pam with a stupid grin on her face.  While Pam is wondering all of the same things, what matters most is that Jim came back. All the way back.

He came back for her.

The three women sort of stare at each other for several seconds, a dizzying mix of confusion and happiness bouncing around the room. Delilah then quickly shifts back into business mode. “Wait, where is Will?”

“I thought he was still in New York,” Emily says. “But I guess I thought Jim was, too.”

“Em, go downstairs and try to catch Jim for a quick interview,” she says, and Emily obeys, rushing out with her camera and leaving Pam and Delilah alone in the conference room. The producer turns to look at her, apparently conditioned to ask her the same questions regardless of the presence or absence of a camera.

“How are you feeling right now?”

Pam doesn’t even know how to respond to that. How is she feeling? She has her Jim back, and they’re finally going out on a date, a real date. She’s never felt so wonderful in her entire life.

“I’m feeling…” she points at the door. “Did that really just happen?”

Delilah nods, beaming. “Yes, it did.”

“I can’t describe how I’m feeling. I’m happy.”

“You said you would be,” Delilah laughs. “I guess it happened sooner than you thought.” 

Pam can barely speak from excitement, so she just grins. 

“Well, I guess you have a date to go get ready for,” Delilah says. 

“Yeah,” Pam replies, still in a bit of a daze. She gestures to her mic, starts removing it. “Are we… done, then?” 

Delilah chuckles. “I hope so.” 

“What?”

“Never mind.” The producer shakes her head and smiles, waving Pam out.

Pam exits the conference room and closes the door gently behind her, looking around the bullpen. Everyone is working quietly, completely oblivious. She wants to tell them. She wants to go scream it from the rooftops the way Michael would, to gather everyone up and make them see how happy she is, how lucky she is. How – finally – Pam Beesly got what she wanted.

But she keeps it inside. Jim knows, and that’s all that really matters.

Emily comes back upstairs from the parking lot and brushes past her to return to the conference room, looking slightly annoyed, and Pam assumes she must not have caught him in time. 

She wanders behind her desk at reception to check her cell phone, to see if Jim texted her a time or place or anything, but there’s nothing. For a brief moment she fears she might have made it all up; that he didn’t come back at all, he didn’t ask her out. Maybe in her effort to convince herself she could get over Jim she’s experiencing some kind of psychotic break. But then she hears the door to the bathroom swing shut, and snaps her head up to see Jim walking out of the kitchen, his bag slung over his shoulder. He looks completely relaxed, his jacket draped over his arm, his shirtsleeves rolled up to the crooks of his elbows. He doesn’t break eye contact with her the entire length of his walk to the front desk, where he perches in his usual spot, dangles his bare forearms across the counter, and pops a jelly bean into his mouth.

He leans in close — very close — so only she can hear him, and asks his next question in that husky tone she’s been imagining for months. 

“Pick you up at seven?”

The sound of his voice sends tiny shockwaves pulsing through her entire body that she’s no longer obligated to ignore. He’s done this with her so many times before, but things are different now; very different. The Pam and Jim she knew has changed once again – perhaps permanently – and she feels like she’s now allowed to see him in an entirely new light. 

He stares at her patiently until all she can do is nod as enthusiastically as possible, still in utter awe that any of this is happening.

“Great. See you then.” He takes one more jelly bean, flashes a smile, and turns to go. 

Pam just watches him for several seconds, and it isn’t until he’s gotten into the elevator that she shakes herself out of her haze and leaps into action. She rushes out of the office, tears down the stairwell, and dashes through the lobby doors to catch him.

“Jim!” she calls after him, lingering by the door. 

He’s just about to duck into his car, but stands up and turns to face her. “Hey,” he calls back. The afternoon sunlight trickles through the trees, giving him an otherworldly golden glow. 

She shakes her head, confused. “What… happened? What about the job? What about New York?” 

He leans against the open car door, considering his response. She can see the twinkle in his eyes from all the way across the parking lot. 

“Well… as it turns out, I have kind of a big thing for Scranton,” he says with a tiny shrug. “Guess I always have.”

He smiles at her the same way he always had, that exact same smile, only now she can indulge the way she’d always wanted to. She beams back at him as he gets into his car, watches him drive away, then steps out into the parking lot – their parking lot – the door swinging shut behind her.

She closes her eyes and lets the sunlight warm her face. It feels like hope.

epilogue

He tries to imagine what his life would be like if he’d made the wrong choice. How close he’d come to blowing it with Pam, moving on and turning into someone else. It could have happened, and the thought is terrifying. He always stops himself before he gets too far. 

After so many years of wanting nothing but this, he finally has it: permission to kiss her, to touch her, to hold her. To love her as completely as he’s always wanted to, with absolutely nothing standing in their way. 

The day he’d asked Pam out had been the greatest day of his life, and each day since has set a new high mark. It’s been a long time since he’s felt like this. He has to admit it’s a pretty amazing feeling to go to sleep every single night thinking “that was the greatest day of my life.”

There have been moments over the past twenty eight days, thirteen hours and forty two minutes where he’s had to pinch himself to believe any of it is real. For one, that very first night he’d taken Pam to dinner, when he’d admitted his feelings for her had never gone away. It was unorthodox to declare love on the first date, for sure, but his love had so long predated the actual event that it felt disingenuous to hold anything back anymore. And when Pam had taken a sip from her drink, gazed across the table at him, and admitted the same, it was music to his ears: finally, a song he could sing along to.

Another moment had come a few days later, when they walked hand-in-hand around his neighborhood that same way he’d always envisioned they might. It was such a simple thing but it felt so surreal, a fantasy come to life.

One of the most overwhelming moments had come a mere week after they’d begun dating. He’d found himself in a local jewelry store on his lunch break – just looking, he’d told himself – but before long had ended up on the phone with his mother asking about things like cut and clarity and color. 

His mom wasn’t surprised by his decision to buy the ring. She’d been all too familiar with Jim’s feelings for Pam over the years. She’d asked only one question of her son: are you sure?

Jim had considered what his mom was asking, because even though he was in the midst of the happiest time in his life, even though he’d been caught up in a wave of romance that had ended with him about to hand his credit card over to a jeweler, he owed it to himself to take a brief pause. So he did. 

And he was struck by just how sure he was about this.

With Pam, he’d never questioned his own feelings, even when he thought they were unrequited. He’d always been certain that what he felt for her was love. And as he stood in that jewelry store, his cell phone pressed up against his ear, his mom waiting to hear his reply, he could only think of that feeling: how Pam gave him butterflies whenever she walked into a room. How every single day he felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. And how he’d never, not once – even when he was with Karen – doubted in his heart that Pam was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. 

So… yes, he’d said to his mom. I’ve never been more sure about anything.

He bought the ring and socked it away in his bedside table for the right moment to present itself. And as if the universe were winking at him, giving its cosmic approval of his decision, that very night was the night Pam moved their relationship to the next level: the next in that continuing line of unbelievable moments.

Jim had long wondered what it would be like to make love to Pam. He’d wondered about it so often that his apprehension was evident the night of their first time: would it live up to his expectations? Would this – the one aspect of their relationship that remained elusive – be the one area in which they might fall short?

He thought he’d been preparing for this moment, that when they decided it was time and it finally happened, he would be ready. But he was incredibly nervous and he knew she could tell. Pam, however, was not. There was something different in her eyes that night; resolve in her expression he hadn’t seen since Beach Day as she reached for the bottom of his T-shirt, lifting it slowly up and over his head, ghosting her fingertips along his bare chest like he was a newly discovered relic, something rare and precious. 

He could feel his ears turning pink and his hands trembling as she took them in her own, saying nothing, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him softly, gently placing his hands at her waist, cradling his face with her own. It felt exactly like that night next to his desk, exactly the same, almost as if she’d been recreating that moment, only this time she did not pull away from him. This time, she’d whispered I love you over and over and over as she kissed him until his nerves were replaced with only that very same love. 

Her confidence was contagious, and when he’d taken her into his arms at last, everything felt perfect; that final piece of their puzzle snapping into place with a satisfying click. And even now he knows he’ll never forget the look in her eyes when they became one, when she arched her back and breathed his name — his name — the way he’d wanted to hear it for so long. 

These and many more images take up residence in his mind now, alongside countless dreams of what their future might be like: him dropping to one knee, Pam in a beautiful wedding dress. Kissing the soft head of a wrinkly newborn in her arms as they become parents, then waving goodbye as they send that child off to college. The images exist without any exertion, with no struggle.

It’s effortless, the way he loves her. 

It’s a Thursday afternoon in June, only a couple of weeks into the sticky heat of a Pennsylvania summer. Usually he prefers the cold weather but not lately. Pam’s outfit of choice when they get off work almost always involves some kind of tank top. He gets to see (and touch) her bare shoulders all the time now.

They’re on his couch catching up on Big Brother, which isn’t a show he particularly likes, but Pam is slightly obsessed with it. It had taken him a while to figure out her TiVo but she’d insisted they set it up at his place, which was an encouraging sign. If nothing else, it’s a standing appointment three times a week during which he gets to hold her in his arms, spooned up together on the sofa with his nose buried in her hair and their bare feet intertwined. 

Mostly, it’s an opportunity to daydream about her. They spend practically every waking minute together these days, and while he’s certainly not complaining, it leaves him precious little time to just think about her. 

It’s ironic that even though he has her all to himself now, just dreaming about Pam is still one of his favorite activities.

So Pam watches morons compete for the Power of Veto and Jim lets his mind wander, thinking about their future, about their past, but mostly just about her.

A commercial comes on, and she wriggles her body a bit, snuggling into him closer. She slides her foot between his and sighs contentedly.

Jim leans down a bit to kiss her shoulder. “Hey, do you know what day it is?”

“Um, Thursday?” 

“No, I know, but… like… for us.”

She spins around in his arms and cups the back of his neck, drawing him in for a kiss. When she pulls back and looks up at him with those eyes he completely forgets what he was even talking about.

“Of course I know it’s our one month anniversary,” she says. 

“I wasn’t sure if it was lame to be keeping track of these things.”

“Definitely not,” she replies. “It’s excellent boyfriend behavior.” 

He chuckles a bit, thinking about all of the times she’d probably been disappointed in the past, but then leans in to kiss her again, effectively banishing all of those thoughts. 

“Well what do you say, Beesly? Think we can make it to two?”

“Eh,” she shrugs. “We’ll see.”

He grins. “Jerk.” 

He starts tickling her and she shrieks, rolling them off the couch, eventually ending up on top of him and pinning his wrists to the floor next to his head. Typically this would be pretty effective foreplay, but that doesn’t seem to be what’s on her mind as she stops, staring down at him with a serious look on her face.

“You know, when you were gone at Stamford… I missed this so much.”

“I’m pretty sure we never did this before. I would have remembered.”

She laughs. “No, I just mean… being with you. You make me so happy. You always did. I should have told you that a long time ago.”

“I knew,” he says. Even though he'd told himself over and over there was no way she could possibly love him during those hellish months of misery, the happiness they'd always shared in the past was the one thing that had kept him going.

“I wish I knew,” she says. 

He raises an eyebrow. “I think you knew. You just didn’t want to say.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She blushes a bit. “I’m sure the camera crew knew, though. They probably thought I was a total idiot.”

“They definitely knew I was,” he says with a groan. “One time Delilah actually had to make the crew leave the room so she could tell me to get my shit together.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” he recalls. “But it’s a good thing, I guess. Because if she hadn’t said anything to me then maybe I wouldn’t have said anything to you.”

“And I’d be married to Roy.”

He shakes his head. “I really don’t want that image in my head, thanks.”

“I’m really sorry, Jim,” she says, very seriously. “About everything. If I’d just been honest sooner…”

He reaches up, cupping her cheek with his hand. “Hey. You need to stop apologizing for stuff that doesn’t matter anymore. We both do, okay? Because I should have said something sooner too, and I didn’t.”

“I think about it all the time, though,” she says, covering his hand with her own. “Where would we be today if I’d just said yes when you asked? Or even before that?”

He shakes his head. “You weren’t ready. And to be honest, I probably wasn’t either.”

Maybe it’s just something he has to tell himself, but they’d both gone through a series of changes over the past year that allowed them to end up where they are today. It had been a painful time, but maybe it’s a blessing in disguise; the victory of finally getting it right tastes even sweeter.

Pam lets go of his wrists so he can sit up, pulling her into his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck tightly and he kisses her softly on her cheek.

“I love you,” she says quietly into his ear. “So much.”

He closes his eyes, letting the words envelop him like a warm, cozy blanket. It’s not the first time she’s said them and they won’t be the last, but every single time he can feel it: that love that had always been missing with anyone else. It feels so right, so real with Pam. So easy. 

“I love you, too.”

They sit together quietly, her chin resting on his shoulder, the chatter of the television behind them, when Pam eventually speaks again. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Anything.”

“It’s not a fun one.”

“Oh, boy.”

She takes a deep breath, leans back to look him in the eyes. “Did you… love her?”

Even though they’ve talked about Karen plenty over the past few weeks, this is a question she hadn’t yet asked. But it’s not a difficult one to answer. One of the many luxuries of being with Pam is that he doesn’t have to lie anymore. 

“No,” he says, looking her right in the eyes. “I could only love you.”

Pam breathes an audible sigh of relief. She doesn’t elaborate, but she doesn’t have to. He has a sneaking suspicion her query is more out of concern for her role in their breakup than of simple jealousy. 

There are tears forming in her eyes now, but they’re happy tears. She leans in to kiss him, and they live inside it for a moment: this magnificent thing they’ve waited so long to have, this thing he can’t help but feel like they’ve earned.

His body is already reacting to her nearness, and her hands move to his waistband like a reflex, but there’s something he wants to do first.

“Hang on, I have something for you,” he says, pulling away from her lips. 

“You do?”

“Yeah, wait here a second.” He lifts her off his lap and gets up off the floor, jogging into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

He pads over to his night table and opens the top drawer, where the engagement ring still hides patiently, awaiting its debut. He picks it up, and not for the first time since he bought it, wonders if today is the day.

He turns the box over a couple times, opens it just to double check, to make sure the ring is still safe inside. It isn’t the right moment yet, he decides. He wants to take his time, do it right. Even for a couple whose story has lasted as long as theirs, it’s still too soon. 

But next to the small black ring box, there sits another slightly larger gray one… something else he’d picked up that same day for a day like today, when he might be tempted to pull the ring out too early. He removes the second box, pushes the engagement ring way back inside, then closes the drawer.

When he goes back into the living room, Pam has paused the TiVo, her knees pulled up to her chest, waiting. He plunks down on the floor across from her and she scoots closer to him until they’re sitting cross-legged with their knees touching. 

He hands her the box. It’s not the shape of a ring box, but she eyes it reverently as if it were.

“What… is it?” she asks carefully.

“Open it.”

She lifts the lid and when she sees what’s inside, lets out a quiet gasp, lifting it out of the box. 

“Do you like it?” he asks hopefully.

“Jim, I love it,” she breathes, taking the gold necklace with the butterfly pendant out of its box. “Here, help me put it on.”

She hands it to him and brings her hands up to her neck, removing the unicorn necklace she’s wearing and placing it in the box. Turning around and holding her hair up, Jim reaches around, putting the new necklace on and fastening the clasp. Pam spins back around to face him, holding the pendant delicately and looking down at it with a smile.

“Why a butterfly?” she asks.

He shrugs. “I thought of you when I saw it. You’ve been drawing them so much lately.”

It’s true, her art had been his inspiration. Ever since they started dating it seemed she'd been fixated on butterflies for some reason… sketches, watercolors, charcoal drawings. They’re still scattered all over her apartment in varying states of completion.

“So maybe I should ask you… why butterflies?” he asks.

“Well, in art class, we’ve been working on our end-of-the-year project. I was supposed to find a cohesive theme, some kind of unifying idea. So I decided my theme is freedom, and how we achieve it, the idea that we all have to sort of grow and change to move past our fears, our own dishonesty. To become truly free. And I’m using the butterfly to represent that. ” She eyes him. “Is this boring?”

He shakes his head in awe, wondering how often she’d ‘bored’ Roy with the things that made her come alive. “Not at all.”

“Okay. Well, it’s kind of a self-discovery project, I guess, because for me it started that night you kissed me. It took me a really long time but I finally got there. I mean.. here. You know.” She laughs a bit and blushes. “So… that’s what the butterflies are about.” 

“Huh,” Jim smirks. “I was kind of hoping it’s because I give you butterflies.”

“Well, that too.” She smiles and leans forward to kiss him softly but deliberately, her fingers cradling the sides of his face. “You gave me this one,” she points out, touching the pendant. “Thanks.”

“It’s funny you said all that though, because I definitely have noticed the change,” he admits. “I noticed it a while ago, just… you know, how you carried yourself around the office.”

“Do you mean walking around in my provocative outfits and saying whatever thought pops into my head?”

He blinks. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You sounded like Angela for a second there.”

She laughs, a mischievous glint in her eye that she doesn’t explain. But she doesn’t have to. He will never again have to wonder if that glint is for him, if that smile is for him. 

She lunges forward and tackles him to the ground, covering his face with kisses. They roll around on the floor, laughing together, and at first she is playful, giggling like the receptionist he fell in love with so many years ago; his best friend. But soon enough her kisses transition from playful to the kind he’s come to learn mean business. The kind from that fearless, fiery Pam he's in love with today, the one he’s just beginning to get to know. 

She threads her fingers into his hair, gripping his scalp, grinding against him slowly. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly she can make him hard, but thankfully she never seems to mind. They make quick work of it, undressing each other with the kind of haste that only comes with new love. Already she feels so familiar surrounding him, as if they’ve been doing this for years, and whenever he’s inside her he’s humbled by the conviction that he will never want to do this with any other woman for the rest of his life. 

She is it. They are it. 

In what feels like no time at all she cries out her release, collapsing across his chest, and soon afterwards he is coming apart beneath her, his hands lost in her hair, her breath tickling his neck. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close, their chests pressed together. They are quiet for a few moments, and he can hear it again just like he did back on the deck of that booze cruise: the distant whisper of the universe telling him stay. 

Only this time, he can. This time, he will.

Forever.

“Happy one month anniversary, Beesly,” he says, gently pushing a damp strand of hair out of her face. She lifts her head up to gaze into his eyes, tiny beads of sweat across her brow. She’s fucking perfect, and she’s all his. 

“I feel kind of bad,” she says with a little pout. “I didn’t get you anything.” 

He chuckles a bit at this, the irony of Pam thinking he could possibly want anything more than this — just this — for the rest of his life. 

“No, Pam,” he answers. Her eyes flicker with those tiny specks of gold again. “You got me everything.”