It was hard for her to get used to, not having him at the desk beside her. She found herself looking up whenever she had completed a task, just to try to see him. She used to play 'footsie' with him under the tables, and although she wouldn't be looking directly at him, she knew he was smiling. She would always check Yahoo News every hour on the hour, and would update him on events, or on the chronicles of Lindsay Lohan—his favorite train wreck. It was those little things that got her through the day, breaking up the monotony of office life. She could still see him every day, it just was different. She'd have to crane her neck and squint her eyes, tilting slightly to the left, just to see his shoulders through the blinds in his new office. She'd have to forward him the links to the news articles she knew he'd be interested in, and wait impatiently for his response when he got around to checking his e-mail. She knew she should be happy for his promotion, but sometimes she couldn't help but feel it was pulling them apart, exaggerating the distance between their desks and their lives.
She couldn't place her finger on it, what had changed. He was still the same person and she loved him just as much as she did yesterday, and the day before, and the day before. He was still just as sensitive, caring, funny, and loyal. But now he was successful, and she thought that kind of changed things. He stopped joking around with her at work, cut their lunches short, and brought his work home with him, sometimes reading expense reports tucked under the covers beside the light of his lamp, as she would read Pride and Prejudice. When he finished, he'd ask if she was ready to go to sleep, and she'd say yes. He put the documents on his night table, reached for the switch on the lamp, and submerged into the sea of cotton around them. He'd roll over to face her, and looked into her eyes before she shut them.
"Goodnight, Pam," he'd say.
"Goodnight, Jim," she'd reply.
Then he'd roll back around, facing their window instead of her. He thought she wouldn't notice, and that once she closed her eyes she was in a deep sleep, as if she was a newborn child. She always knew though, and she could feel the bed squeak as he tried to get comfortable. She wondered what had changed since they first moved in together, where they would fall asleep nestled together, holding hands, and looking in each other's eyes. They used to fall asleep instantaneously, completely worn out from the amazing sex that they would continue to have (sometimes twice) each and every night. Now they only made love on the weekends. He said he was exhausted from work and needed to be up early in the morning. She felt like a nymph, fantasizing about him all day during work, building up her sexual energy until it could be released on Friday. Sometimes she wished that he would go back to being a salesman, return to his old desk and his old pranks. But as she felt the 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets rub against her leg, she remembered the she liked the financial freedom they had these days, and the family that they were saving up for. She forced her doubts about the new position to the back of her mind, and tried to fall asleep. She couldn't help but remember that it seemed much easier to fall asleep when she had the rhythm of his heartbeat gently lulling her to a calm.