OK, those of you who are still reading, here you go. This is the last chapter-chapter. I will likely be back with an epilogue, though, because I have a hard time letting stories go. This one was fun to write, and I really appreciate the feedback along the way. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know!
Answering the phone was a knee-jerk response to its insistent buzz. She gave it no thought at all, at least until she caught a glimpse of Jim's face. The combination of emotions she saw there—hurt, shock, sadness, a healthy dose of anger—almost stopped her. Almost.
Roy was speaking before she got the phone all the way up to her ear. His words didn't matter; she wasn't listening to them. His tone was what caught her, rough and heavy. Like his hands, sometimes. She had long since come to hate his drinking voice. She'd been familiar with it for years, since the days when he'd steal six-packs from his dad's garage fridge and guzzle them in his truck before taking her out for a fast-food dinner or a movie. "Pammy," he would say, reaching across the console to slip a hand between her legs and speaking with the dreaded slur that predicted vomiting and unprovoked mood swings later, "You're a good girl. You don't have to be so good all the time."
Now he was saying something entirely different, but it didn't matter, really, as her eyes were still fixed on Jim and her mind still trapped in Roy's high school truck.
Jim's expression didn't waver, and it was making it hard for her to think clearly. It was the anger that hit her hardest; she could count on one hand the number of times she had seen Jim mad, and less than half of those fingers accounted for the times he'd been mad at her. But who could blame him? He must be so tired of taking care of her. He must be ready for her to just get her shit together and stand up on her own two feet so he wouldn't have to worry about her anymore.
The thought hurt, almost as if he'd actually said that to her, and she sucked in a breath and turned her back to him. She heard him sigh and then the couch springs squeaked as he got up and moved toward the kitchen.
"Wait," she said sharply, and God help her she didn't know which of them she was addressing. Jim froze in his tracks, and Roy shut up mid-senseless-ramble.
Then she realized she meant both of them.
"I'm not going to do this anymore," she said to everyone within earshot. "It's not that I can't, don't think that. I could. I could go on like this forever; I've been doing it for a long time. But it's not what I want. And it's not what I deserve. I know that now." She paused to catch her breath, painfully aware that Jim was staring at her with his mouth hanging open, as though she had just sprouted a second head. "It's over between us, Roy. Don't test me on this. I don't want to have to call the cops on you, but I will if you leave me no choice. I'm asking you to stay away."
She hadn't noticed she was backing up, but suddenly the back of her knees met the edge of the couch and she sat down heavily. Roy was—shockingly—silent on the other end of the phone. She took advantage of the opportunity to put paid to a decade of her life.
"Goodbye, Roy," she muttered, and snapped her phone shut.
The silence that followed was thick and deep; it was as if neither she nor Jim even dared to breathe.
He was the first to break it, even though she thought it was her responsibility. He was amazing that way. That way, and so many others.
And she'd known it all along. She'd known.
"What do you need?" he asked in a husky whisper. When she looked up at him questioningly, he shrugged, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I don't want to do the wrong thing. I'm pretty likely to go down in flames without an assist."
Her smile caught them both by surprise. "You usually find your way," she said. "Just do what comes naturally."
And he did. In a moment he was next to her, his strong arm encircling her shoulders and his lips pressing against her temple in a kiss that almost succeeded in erasing all the badness that came before. He was comfort personified, and it felt so good she wanted to melt into him.
"Jim," she whispered after a few minutes had passed. "I don't know what to do either."
"You just did the bravest thing I've ever seen anyone do," he said. "I think you're all set for the night."
"No. I …" she drifted off, steadfast in what she wanted to say but not sure she should, or how she could. "I know I just broke up with Roy, and that in light of that fact, this is going to sound probably pretty crazy. But I know that you know me, Jim, and I hope that's enough. I hope that will help you see that this isn't just some—I mean, it's—I'm—God, this is hard!"
He leaned back enough that he could look directly in her eyes, smiling gently. "Just spit it out, Beesly."
She exhaled laughter and found that baseline of ease and naturalness, the one that was the very foundation of who they were when they were together and things weren't all screwy.
She reached for his uninjured hand and squeezed it tightly in both of hers. "I love you, Jim. I'm in love with you."
There they were, those words. They hung in the air and his face revealed nothing, nothing, like he hadn't even heard her, and Pam suddenly felt utterly vulnerable, stark naked in the middle of a busy street. So she kept going, her mouth on autopilot and her clutching fingers digging even deeper into his hand. "I've known it for a long time, deep down, I just couldn't see a way out of the hole I'd dug. And you told me you felt the same way but I couldn't quite let that in; I was so wrapped up in what was going on with Roy and me, and I thought maybe you'd made it up to get me away from him, but now that just sounds crazy, right? And I know by now you're probably sick of me and all my baggage, having to clean up after me and deal with my stupid little emotional breakdowns, and if you tell me no thanks, I'll … Well, that would really suck. But I would back off. Why are you smiling?"
She'd been watching their intertwined fingers instead of his face, noting the way hers fit perfectly in the spaces between his. So she was surprised when she glanced back up and saw his wide, radiant grin. Surprised, but knee-bucklingly relieved.
"I'm just wondering if you're ever going to shut up so I can kiss you," he said.
"Oh." The word escaped her lips in a little sigh, just before he pulled her into his lap and made good on the bargain.