She just wants to be alone, so she can cry, really cry, like she hasn’t since everything fell apart just as the summer and her life were about to begin. But she’s never found a way to be successfully alone.

She cries. She can’t even make it to the bathroom, nearly collapsing at the end of the hallway; her knees buckling just as her eyes overflow. She hears the door open and freezes; she looks up to see Toby cautiously approaching. He halts nervously in front of her and drums his fingers absentmindedly against his thigh as she tries to stop.

“Are you alright, Pam?” She starts counting cracks in the floor.

“I’m ok.”

“Did Michael accuse you of stealing again?” She smiles, slightly, as she remembers the last time she cried in front of Toby.

“No. Nothing like that.” He glances away, clears his throat. She thinks he might sit next to her, but he doesn’t; he crouches in front of her, balancing his weight and looking into her eyes.

“Is it...Roy?”

“It’s nothing.” She catches her breath, and it comes out as a shuddering sigh. He flinches and nearly loses his balance.

“If you don’t want to talk about it – “ She cuts him off.

“It’s just a stupid thing I did. Again.” The last part is spoken under her breath, but she knows that he heard her. He stands up suddenly, a crack from one of his knees causing her eyelid to flutter. Fumbling in his pocket, he comes up with a paper napkin from a fast food place and hands it to her. Using the corner to wipe her eyes, she can smell French fries and fabric softener.

“Sorry I don’t have anything else.”

“No, it’s fine. This is a help. Thanks, Toby.” She looks at him and tries to smile, struggling to find the right expression. He removes his jacket and hands it to her, sits down. His knee shakes a little, and she places a finger on it to calm him. He moves his hand over hers.

“Jim?” She coughs.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He’s with Karen.”

“I know.”

“Oh.”

It suddenly dawns on her how he knows; they must be registered with HR as a couple. Jim is her superior, after all. The thought of that makes it final, makes it somehow legal, a piece of paper acknowledging their relationship. After two months. She was with someone for ten years, and she never had that. She starts to cry again. Toby holds her hand.

She’s not sure how long they sit there, but eventually Toby gets up and her face is dry. As he walks away, she calls his name. “Toby?”

“Yeah, Pam?”

“Can I redact my little crying fest?” He smiles.

“Sure.”

“Don’t send it to my permanent New York file.”

“That box is full, anyway.”

“Thanks.” He walks away, and as the door closes behind him she nearly slumps over; exhaustion has set in. She is so tired of everything. As she walks back to the warehouse, her legs feel like dead weight and she fights to keep her eyes open.