Jim was in the kitchen, dishing Pam's grilled cheese onto a plate and pouring her a glass of Cherry flavored Juicy Juice when he heard her quiet footsteps, as she came down the stairs. He looked over at the stairs and grinned at her, but he received only a weak smile in return. Her arms crossed over her chest, she stood looking above him slightly, her eyes glazed over and her hair a mess.
He set her plate and drink on the table, pulling a fork and some napkins out of the drawer. She watched him do so, silently, leaning against the wall. He walked over to her, and as he got closer, he watched her eyes get bigger. She clutched her arms to her chest tighter instinctively, taking a step backwards.
"Hey…" he murmured, reaching his hand out for her to take. "I made you some lunch." She looked at him, reluctance in her eyes, and it made his heart drop as he realized how scared she was. He had completely destroyed her. Not only her body, but her spirit as well. He had no idea how to convince her he was for real.
"Pam, I…" he looked in her eyes, and as soon as he did, he knew there was nothing he could say. At this point, it wasn't words that she needed to hear. It was actions. She needed to see his love for her. As he locked eyes with her, she started to look away, but he brought his hand to her face, gently, wincing as she flinched with his touch. He moved her face so he could look in her eyes, simply staring into them, willing himself to show her all the love he felt for her. He heard her gasp softly as she looked at him, but then she closed her eyes, as if just looking in his eyes was too exhausting.
"I'm here for you," he whispered softly in her ear. She nodded softly and touched his hand, looking up at him. He looked back, and as he did, he noticed the wrinkles on her forehead.
She looked down at herself in his boxers and shirt. She was silent, but her eyes were pleading.
"You need clothes." He stated, as if it was a fact. She nodded lightly, fear overcoming her once again. "Think the door is unlocked?" She nodded softly. He squeezed her hand lightly.
"You eat your lunch, I'll go get your stuff." He said. He felt her gaze on him as she smiled lightly, some fear from her eyes disappearing as she realized she wouldn't need to go back there. Just as he was about to let go of her hand, he felt her squeeze back softly. He smiled to himself and handed her his key, leaving his house and locking the door behind him.
As Jim drove the four blocks to her house, he thought about her. How cute she looked in his t-shirt and boxers. How much his heart ached every time he saw her hurting. How, if he ever ran into Roy, he would totally and completely demolish him. He thought about what he'd done wrong when it came to Pam. How he hadn't talked to her earlier. How he hadn't been there for her when he needed her. How he hadn't thought to tell her he loved her before today. He'd sat by idly as Roy abused her. It ate away at his heart that the one person he loved most in the world had been hurt, and he hadn't done anything to stop it.
He parked his car in the driveway and walked up to the door, silently observing the house. It was strange to see it again. To see how perfect it looked from the outside, and yet he knew how absolutely demolished it was inside. How scary and demented it was. He took a deep breath and braced himself before turning the knob. As the door opened, his eyes watered at the sight. He shut the door behind him and slowly wandered throughout the living room. He could see the broken shards of glass. His heart sank.
He made his way up the stairs, scared of what he might find. As he stopped at the top of the stairs, tears fell freely down his cheeks. He walked over to the place where he'd found Pam and noticed the dried blood. He reached down and fingered it, unsure of why, but knowing he needed to. He walked around the apartment slowly, looking at everything around him. He noticed a trail of blood to the bathroom and gasped as he opened the door, seeing strands of Pam's hair next to the tub, right near a small pool of blood. His feet gave out from under him as he slid onto the floor, hugging his chest. How dare he do this to her?
He sat there, staring for a few minutes, unable to stop the tears from choking in his throat. Slowly, he pulled himself up. He took a deep breath and walked into the bedroom, forcing himself inside. He saw a picture of Pam and Roy on the nightstand, his smile glowing as he held her. Hers was there, but he could tell it was forced. That's when he noticed a small discoloring on her arm. He gasped and picked up the picture, throwing it hard against the wall so that the glass frame shattered.
He reached into her closet and pulled her duffel bag from it, throwing as many of her clothes as he could into it. He made his way through the bedroom, picking other random oddities that he knew were hers that she'd want. As he walked downstairs with her duffel bag, he saw the teapot he'd got her for Christmas sitting in the kitchen. He picked it up slowly, and walked out the door, duffel bag in one hand, teapot and keys in the other. And that's when he noticed the truck pull into the driveway. His heart leapt into his throat as he opened his car door, placing the duffel bag and teapot inside. He closed the door behind him, locked it, and turned to face Roy.
Roy groaned as he drove into the driveway, parking his car next to Jim's old Toyota. What was he doing here? Roy'd woken up this morning in his car, unsure of where he was. He'd driven by the house before going to work, but all of the lights were out, so he figured Pam had already left with Angela. When he'd gotten to work that morning, one of the guys in the warehouse had asked him what Pam had come down with. He went to ask Toby what the problem was, and Toby had told him she was sick. He'd decided to bring her lunch on hopes of getting out of the doghouse after their apparent fight last night. He didn't remember it, but he figured if he woke up in his car, something had happened.
He got out of his car, staring at Jim. He thought he'd seen him through something in his car, but he wasn't sure. It was probably just that dumb messenger bag he carries to work every day.
"Hey man," Roy said, walking toward him. "She doin' okay in there?"
"What?" Jim asked, looking confused. Roy gave him a strange glance before repeating his question. "Is she feeling okay? Toby said she was out sick."
"Not quite," Jim said, clenching his teeth.
"Then what's the deal?" Roy asked, curious as to why Jim was standing in his driveway, apparently having hung out with his fiancée.
"She's not here," Jim replied coldly, matter-of-factly.
"I'll kill you." Roy's voice was loud and angry. He felt as if he could leap out of his skin, his rage was boiling. "What the fuck are you doing, man? That's my fiancée. You don't mess with another guy's fiancée!"
Jim could feel his anger at Roy rising. In his mind, mental images of Pam, lying on the ground bleeding and shivering came to his mind. He knew he would never be able to shake the images from his mind, and they were especially vivid with Roy standing in front of him. He took a step closer to him so that he was right in Roy's face before speaking.
"She's not your fiancée anymore. She'll never be your fiancée again." His voice was sturdy and strong. So sturdy and strong it nearly scared Roy. He was confused. What was Jim talking about? All he had ever done was love Pam. He'd given her the best sex of her life. Many times. At all times of the night. What could she possibly want to leave him for? Besides, she didn't have a mind of her own. He'd made sure of that years ago. She belonged to him, now.
"Oh, please Jim. I own her," He said through gritted teeth.
Jim looked at him, horrified. He could feel his face getting red and his fists forming as he spat, "You do NOT own her, you asshole."
Roy could feel the heat rise up through his arms as reached his arm up and punched Jim across the face. Jim glared at him, holding his jaw, before striking Roy hard in the face, sending him backwards a few steps. As Roy prepared to punch him again, Jim put his hand up, blocking Roy's blow and sent his knees flying into Roy's crotch, sending him down to the pavement. Jim hovered over him, his voice stern and his face unforgiving.
"Don't you ever touch her again, you son of a bitch." Roy shrunk under Jim's voice, feeling smaller and smaller as he looked up. Whatever he'd done to Pam, he could tell that Jim wasn't kidding around about this. As Jim walked over to his car and climbed in, his face still red, Roy could see Pam's duffel bag sitting on the seat. The anger boiled inside of him again as he got to his feet.
Jim started the car and as he saw Roy running toward its hood, he snickered to himself. Leaning his head out of the window, he yelled out to Roy, "I already want to pummel your ass. Get out of my way, or I'll do so with my car." He saw Roy back away, and Jim backed out of the driveway, racing home to find Pam.
She stood next to the refrigerator, looking over the pictures on the doors, tears falling down her cheeks. Pictures of Jim with his nieces covered the fridge. She smiled and reached out her finger to touch one. There was a little girl with curly blonde-brown hair, sitting on Jim's lap. She had a Snow White dress on with puffy sleeves, and it was easy for Pam to tell she'd been wearing lipstick. She couldn't have been more than four, but the look on her face was priceless. She was sitting on Jim's lap, her legs crossed over his. Her eyes were gazing into Jim's and she was laughing, or smiling, but it looked like she was laughing. She was probably the happiest little girl in the world. But, what really struck Pam was Jim's eyes. As he stared at his neice, she could see how much love he had for her. He was wearing her tiara, laughing and touching her nose.
As she stared at the picture, her heart melted. She realized how much she wanted to have man that would stare at his children the way Jim stared at his nieces. She knew Roy would never have been that man. She would have been the parent, the only one who cared about her kids at all. And it would have taken so much of an effort for her to even get pregnant. To convince Roy to have children. And she would have been broken-hearted by the way he treated them.
Tears fell down her cheeks as she let her hand slide off the picture. She wasn't sure if she'd ever get the happy ending she so dreamed of. As the tears fell, she felt a hand graze her shoulder lightly. She turned to look at Jim, tears falling down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, not able to even utter a single word. He wrapped his arms around her and held her. When she pulled away minutes later, wiping her tears, she noticed the bruise on his face and once again the tears fell. Faster. Freer. Crying for him was different than crying for herself. Hurting for him was different than hurting for herself. Every pain she'd felt the night Roy had attacked her came back, but so much more powerful. Her entire body burned as she thought of what Roy had done to him. And all he had ever done was try to protect her.
She looked up at his face and touched his bruise lightly. He winced under her touch, and she let out a shriek before dropping to the floor, bawling.
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