Another chapter and we're back with Jim.

This is a (heavily) reworked chapter and the next one is still to be written so the next update will probably be in a day or two. I know what I'm going to write, I just want to get the tone right.

Enjoy!

Jim woke up late the next morning. His head was pounding and the air conditioning sounded like it was grinding through glass. "Oh... ow..." he rolled out of bed and reached for a bottle of water from the mini-bar and an aspirin from his bag. The curtains were mercifully blocking out most of the morning light as he crawled back into the surprisingly comfortable bed for another hours sleep. He heard paper crumple loudly as he got back under the covers and found a note. "Sarah." He remembered lying next to her as he fell asleep last night completely overwhelmed with exhaustion, alcohol and Pam. Her smell of suntan lotion mixed with his hung in the sheets.

Morning American Boy,

Hope you're not dead. I think I am. Don't think I'll be drinking that blue stuff ever again. I had to go to work but I hope you're ok. If you still want a tour of the Opera House I'll see you downstairs at 8.30am tomorrow morning so no drinking like last night! My mobile number is on the other side of this note.

See you soon, Sarah

"Nice girl." Jim said aloud. Their friendship had come about so randomly but he was so grateful to have met Sarah last night. He listened as she spoke about Jen, she listened as he spoke about Pam. Both of them were mourning the love they lost because they both loved someone else. In Pam's case it was Roy, in Jen's case it was a baby. He placed the note on his bedside table and closed his eyes.

It's over. She's married.

He wasn't sure, but he thought he just might be ok.

After a few hours more rest to sleep off the worst of his hangover he head out brightly into the midday sun. He walked round and found a place serving soft shell crab. He figured he'd have lunch now his stomach had settled and then go book a trip to walk over Sydney Harbour Bridge and perhaps go check out the beach as it had been the warmest day yet for an Australian winter.

That's when he saw her on the opposite side of the street. He could only see the back of her but he'd know those tumbling curls and shy walk anywhere. She seemed to be looking which way to go but the crowd was bumping into her. Oh my god, that's Pam. He ran across the street without looking and cursed as a car screeched to a halt a little too late knocking him clean to the ground. His palms scraped took the brunt of the impact and his knee clattered into the tarmac but mostly he was okay, his mind focused only on finding Pam in the crowd. It took Jim a second to realise the driver was shouting at him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Yelled the irate Australian out the window.

"Sorry, sorry." He jumped back up limping slightly and tried to find her again. Shit, where is she.

"You damaged my car."

Jim grabbed his wallet and grabbed a handful of Aussie dollars and thrust it into the angry Australian's hand before running off with a limp to the spot where he last saw her. She's here, she's in Sydney. He looked but he couldn't see her. He was turning his head so fast he was getting dizzy. "Pam!" he shouted. "Pam!" He was beginning to panic as the sea of faces remained foreign and unfamiliar. He stood on tiptoe and strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of his Pam but the lunchtime crowd was thick with tourists.

Wait, there she is.

He saw the same curls leaving a shop with a map. He pushed through the crowd until he got to her, his height helping to keep her in sight. Oh my god, Pam, I love you so much and you're here. He couldn't stop smiling as he reached her, his heart was pounding through his chest. He took a breath before placing and hand on her shoulder. "Pam."

She turned around.

Oh.

Jim's heart broke again. He didn't think it could.

"Sorry, um, I think you're looking for someone else." She spoke in a British accent. She didn't resemble Pam in the slightest.

"Yeah, sorry for bothering you." He forced the wortds out and wandered away in a daze. He felt sick. He felt alone. He felt broken.

Again.

He wasn't sure how far he walked or for how long but he kept walking north and reached the beach. He walked through miles of suburbs before finally sighting stretches of golden sands. He walked down onto the beach and just sat, his legs giving way beneath him and his body drained of energy. Without the rhythm of his feet to distract him like white noise he let himself think.

I'm not ok. I'm not ok. How can something hurt this much and not kill me?

He looked at his grazed palms, his skin scraped and raw so he could still see the ruffled bits of skin that reminded him of a thousand childhood bike accidents. He hardly felt it despite the throb.

She's married. She married him, that lazy, pathetic, dream crushing, fat, stupid, drunken, inattentive, selfish, idiot.

He wiped away a stray tear and hung his head, staring at the granules of fine blonde sand between his feet.

I can't do this. Why'd I come here? It's no different, she'll be Mrs Anderson wherever I am and she'll still say no. Or "I can't" wherever I am. I'm an idiot. God, I was so sure it was her, I let myself believe it because I'm that damn stupid and that damn pathetic. She's been with him almost ten years, there must be something there, she loves... him. She must have been right, I misinterpreted everything. How could she love me?

He closed his eyes tight and tried to think of something to pull himself out of this spiral so he could stop feeling this way but there wasn't anything to cling to, every thought in his head was darkened by his defeat and loss. He always turned his thoughts on himself.

How did I let this get this bad? Living my life thinking one thing and saying another day in, day out. All the time I was getting in too deep and telling myself I had it under control. Falling in love when I could have stopped it.

I know the moment it happened too as much as I denied it but then no one does self delusion like me. I'd been sick the day before, food poisoning after trying Turkish food from a cart with Mark, he had been pretty sick too. The next day I made it into work and there was a bunch of multicoloured post-it notes stuck to my computer screen. She'd folded the bottom corner of each post-it so they stood out letting me read one at a time. The first one was a message reminding me to change my password by order of corporate; she'd written suggestions like 'Battlestar', 'Conspiracy' or 'Dwightfanclub'. God how I smiled at just that note, made my day.

He was smiling, almost against his will as he let the memory continue to sweetly torture him.

The next notes told me everything I missed that day.

'Dwight arrived with a friend this morning, guess who?' I guessed someone from his dojo in my head as Pam wasn't there yet.

'A duck. (See pictoral evidence)

She'd drawn this amazingly detailed picture of a duck on the next post-it with a speech bubble that said "Help me!" I'd seen some of her drawings before when I taken a peek at her notepad during meetings but this was her best yet, I thought that maybe she wanted to show me how good she was, maybe impress me or see if I'd believe in her. I did. I do.

'Dwight's evil plan is tokill and eat the duck for lunch, I must thwart this plan and save Robert's life. Yes, we've named the duck; he's currently in the break room.'

*THINKING* She'd drawn herself as a stick figure scratching her head, I know I was just standing at my desk still, grinning like an idiot.

'Operation: Jail Break' was crossed out and she'd tried 'Operation: Free Bird. I figure the mission has its own theme song.' I bought her that song the next day too.

'Phyllis was giving Dwight hell so I snuck Robert out under my coat and took him to the park in my car. I think he knew I was helping him because he didn't leave any presents in the car and sat in the passenger seat with less complaining than most people I know. I almost adopted him. Shame, I really liked crispy duck... damn...' She never did eat duck again.

'Dwight doesn't like me.' She'd drawn this sad face and for moment I thought that she'd been really upset and I hadn't been there to shield her from Dwight. Then I flipped over to the next page.

'I remembered I don't care!' and she'd drawn a smiling face with balloons, confetti and a cake.

'I missed you. Get better soon.' That was the last one. My favourite. The camera's showed up for the first time the following week.

I still have the notes in my bedside table at home,I should have thrown them out before I left, I am a fool, I know but, it was the moment I knew I loved her. I swear everyone could see it on my face. I told myself I was just letting the crush get to me and I just needed to meet someone available and I'd be over this in a second but that was it, the moment I sank too deep.

The weak smile that had clung to his mouth lost the battle and faded away.

I could have left. I should have left. She was the only reason I had to stay. I eventually fooled myself thinking she felt the same, that she'd work it out and that...

His fists were balled up so tight his fingernails dug into the raw patches of skin from being hit by the car and he finally felt the pain.