Pam had rushed out of Poor Richards as soon as Roy had started throwing things and breaking glass. She couldn't do that, not anymore. No, little old Pammy is getting what she wants, and it sure as hell wasn't that. Jesus Christ, she was shaking. She had been able to hold up the strong front until she got to the car, but as soon as she pulled out, she felt her nerves begin to get the best of her. Not knowing any other coping mechanism, she pulled out her phone and held down the 2 key for speed dial.
"Hey, Beasley." Jim's voice answered after a ring, and Pam could practically hear his easygoing grin.
"Hey, are you with Karen? Because if you're with Karen it's totally-"
"I'm not with Karen. Are you alright?" Jim interrupted, hearing the nervousness in her tone.
"Yeah, I'm totally fine. It's not an emergency." Pam said dismissively.
"What's not an emergency?"
"Nothing," Pam said, even more dismissively now.
"Pam," Jim said, knowing it didn't sound like nothing.
"I was at a bar with Roy," Pam began. "Well there's your first mistake," Jim thought. "And in the spirit of being a more honest person and whatever, I told him about Casino Night when we kissed and he freaked out and started throwing things and breaking glass and oh my God, Jim, it was so scary."
"Pam, Pam, listen to me." Jim said, now knowing that it was an emergency. "Pam, are you still with him right now?"
"No, I left him in the bar." Pam answered, trying not to cry.
"Okay, Pam, so you're in your car, right?"
"Yeah," she confirmed, sniffling.
"Come to my apartment, okay?"
"Jim, I can't, he's already pissed at you, it'll only be worse if he finds out I'm at your apartment."
"I'll deal with that if I have to. I don't want you to be alone right now. Not after the fright you just had."
"It's been worse," Pam admitted, knowing right after she said it that it wasn't the right thing to say in this situation.
"Now it's definitely an emergency." Jim thought to himself. "How much worse?"
"Forget I said anything. I'm here. Can you buzz me in?" She requested. Jim pressed the button, and Pam was in his apartment a moment later, sitting at his kitchen counter. He poured her a glass of water and slid it across the counter towards her.
"Pam," Jim began gently. "What did you mean by "It's been worse?"
"Nothing, Jim. Forget I said anything." Pam said, pulling down at her shirtsleeves.
"Pam, did he ever hi-"
"No." Pam answered before Jim even finished asking the question. His grip was too tight on many an occasion and he had shoved her into walls when he got frustrated, but he wouldn't ever hit her.
"Are you telling me the truth?" Jim asked.
"Of course." Pam answered. "Not that it matters, I broke it off, for good this time."
"You okay?" Jim asked, shocked at this revelation but trying not to show it.
"I'll be fine."
There was a silence, but it wasn't the same as the pleasant silences they had sometimes shared before Jim went to Stamford.
"I'm really sorry, Jim."
"Sorry for what?" he asked, surprised.
"I should've broken it off with Roy way before I did. I should've broken it off on Casino night. I should've stopped you from going to Stamford. I'm just, really sorry we never got the timing right."
Jim sat down next to Pam, putting his hand over her own. Smiling, he turned to look at her. "Well, there's no time like the present, right?"